She looks good in my bed. Too good. And this feeling right here is exactly why I didn’t let myself go any further with her before. I knew I wouldn’t want to stop. Neither one of us speaks as the reality of what we just did hits us.
Shayne pulls my sheet up around her, and I see her wall starting to slide back in place, so I thow some sweatpants on, turn off my light, and crawl into bed with her, tugging her naked, boneless body back into my chest. She’s tense at first, but then she starts to relax, and her breathing evens out, telling me that she’s fallen asleep.
I push away the hint of guilt that tries to break though, allowing myself the temporary comfort of having Shayne back in my bed. I don’t know what this means for us, but I’ll worry about the fallout tomorrow.
Shayne
Thayer’s heavy arm is locked around me, his breathing coming out in steady breaths behind me. I don’t know what woke me. All I know is that I have the sudden urge to bolt. Sleeping here, being here like this with him…it’s a bad idea. It makes me want things I know I can’t have. After last night’s revelations, I feel like we turned a corner, but everyone knows words said in the heat of the moment are to be taken with a grain of salt. I don’t want to see the disappointment in his eyes that always seems to come after we give in to temptation. And I definitely don’t want to risk doing the walk of shame and getting busted by Christian or Holden.
I give myself thirty seconds. Thirty seconds to soak in the feeling of Thayer’s arm wrapped around the curve of my hip, his hand gripping my boob, even in sleep. I imagine what it would be like if he was just a boy and I was just a girl and our parents hadn’t ever met. I wonder how things would be by now if Danny hadn’t died. When my thirty seconds are up, I slip out from his hold, trying my best not to wake him. He groans in his sleep, rolling onto his back as I sit on the edge of his bed, wearing nothing but his scent and the bruises his mouth left on my skin, and I miss his warmth immediately. His shirt has risen enough to expose the V lines that lead below his low-slung sweatpants and I chew on my thumbnail, having to talk myself out of crawling back into bed.
But our story isn’t a fairytale. More like a Shakespearean tragedy. Allowing myself to believe otherwise is pathetic, and allowing this thing to go any further than it already has is reckless. Because when everything comes crumbling down, I’m going to be the one left feeling empty and alone. Again. I stand, using one arm to band across my bare chest, and push my wild hair out of my face, looking for my clothes.
Shit. Where are my shorts? I replay last night’s events in my mind, trying to remember what I did with them, when I realize they must still be downstairs. I’ll have to throw my dress from last night on. Tiptoeing over to my pile of soiled clothes, my hopes are dashed when I pick up the cold, still wet fabric. I consider putting it on anyway, but then I spot Thayer’s discarded hoodie on the floor next to the bed.
Good enough.
Bending over, I pluck it off the floor then slide my arms through the sleeves before zipping it up. I consider stealing a pair of his boxers, too, but his dresser is on the other side of the room, and I don’t want to risk getting caught. Luckily, his hoodie hits mid-thigh, so I slip on my Converse, tuck my wet underwear inside my pocket, and decide to abandon the dress entirely. I don’t care if I ever see it again, but I’m not going to leave my underwear on Thayer’s floor. Picking up my purse, I sling it over my head, the strap lying across my chest, and with one last look at Thayer’s sleeping form, I leave.
I shut the door behind me, slowly releasing the doorknob so as to not make a sound. I make my way down the stairs, cringing when one of the steps creaks beneath my foot. Tiptoeing the rest of the way down, I take in the unholy number of empty cups and bottles left on every surface. It’ll no doubt be gone in a couple hours once Holden calls their cleaners over to cover up the evidence.
Once I’m at the bottom of the stairs with the front door in sight, I breathe out a sigh of relief. That is, until it opens, revealing August. I freeze, rooted to the bottom step, heart racing. The shock on his face matches my own as his eyes roam over my bare legs, making their way up to my sex hair. He scowls at me, his expression troubled and angry. He calmly sets his briefcase down on the entryway table, closing the door behind him. His eyes drift past me, noticing the mess, but he doesn’t seem to care one way or another.
“Which one?” he asks.
“Excuse me?” I tilt my head, not understanding his meaning.
“Whose bed did you just crawl out of?” He raises a questioning eyebrow, his voice stern.
I frown, my stomach rolling with nerves. What kind of question is that? Never mind the fact that I did, in fact, just crawl out of Thayer’s bed. “No one’s,” I lie.
“I’m sure you’ve realized that you no longer have a bedroom here.” Dark hazel green eyes that remind me so much of Thayer’s bore into me.
“I’m aware. I fell asleep on the sofa in the poolroom.”
“Ah,” he says knowingly. “Over imbibe, did we?” He’s giving me an out, but I can tell he doesn’t believe me.
“Yeah.” I lick my dry lips, casting a glance upstairs. I was so hell-bent on getting out of here undetected just minutes ago, but now I’d give anything for Holden or Thayer to wake up and save me from this awkward encounter. “I’m not much of a drinker, so I decided to play it safe and sleep here.”
He nods, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Is Thayer awake?”
This feels like a trick question, and the fact that he knew to ask about Thayer specifically has me feeling even more on edge. Maybe we haven’t been as careful as I thought. I shrug, playing it off. “I’m not sure. I just woke up and I’m supposed to be meeting a friend.”
Another nod. When he doesn’t speak, I take that as my cue to leave. I step down from the last step, moving past him, but his hand darts out, catching my arm. I stop short, giving a pointed look at his where he grips me, apprehension snaking its way up my spine. He notices my discomfort and releases his hold immediately, taking a step back.
“How’s Greyson doing?”
I feel my eyebrows tug together, confused by the sudden change in subject.
“I haven’t seen him in town at all,” he elaborates when he notices my confusion. “Just making sure everything’s okay.” It sounds more like a question than a statement. Is it possible that August still cares for my mom?
“He’s okay,” I lie again. “School is keeping him busy, so we don’t see him as much as we’d like.”
Something genuine flashes in his eyes, but he conceals it before I’m able to place it. “And you? I was worried you and the boys wouldn’t get along, but I see that concern was unfounded.”
“I’m fine.” I leave it at that. He’s clearly fishing for information, and I’m not taking the bait. I don’t get the sudden interest in our lives. If he gives a shit, then where has he been for the past year? I think back to what Holden said about my mom having an affair but dismiss the possibility. Why is it when something goes wrong, their first reaction is to blame my family?
“Well, I’ll let you get to your plans,” he says, dismissing me as he loosens the tie around his neck. I head for the door once more, and this time, he doesn’t stop me.
I practically ran home through the woods. The sun was just starting to rise, barely peeking through the trees, telling me it was still before seven. If I hadn’t been in such a hurry, it would’ve been the perfect morning to hang out at the barn. I’ve never been a morning person, but there’s a certain peacefulness in the early hours. Thayer told me once that he could tell what time it was based on which birds were chirping, but the chirping left with the warm weather. This time of year, it’s calm and quiet, the air crisp. The only sound was my shoes running through the fallen leaves.
I managed to sneak into my house undetected. I grabbed a banana from the fruit rack, needing something to coat my empty stomach, then slipped off my shoes and quickly headed upstairs to my room. I finished half of my banana before giving up, t
hrew my dead phone on the charger, then promptly passed back out in the comfort of my own bed. I didn’t bother to shower or even change my clothes.
I wake up to Valen standing over me, a mixture of disgust and concern screwing up her features. “What—and I cannot stress this enough—the fuck.”
“What?” I grumble, half-awake.
“I’ve been calling you all morning.” She looks over to the table beside my bed and plucks my phone from it, showing me the missed calls and texts before tossing it down onto the bed. “You owe me answers. And a shower.” She pulls up the corner of my blanket, looking underneath. “Are you even wearing pants?”
I jerk the blanket back down and Valen climbs onto my bed, crossing her long legs. I sit up and stumble out of bed to lock my bedroom door.
“Ohhh, she locked the door. That means it’s juicy.” Valen wiggles her brows.
“You have no idea,” I mutter, padding back toward her.
“Whose jacket is that?” She tugs at the hem as I crawl back into my bed, pulling the blanket over my lap.
“I don’t even know where to start.” Taking the hair tie off my wrist, I throw my hair into a messy bun on top of my head.
“Let’s start with the fact that Thayer carried you off like a caveman in front of the entire town.”
I rack my brain for the right thing to say. I don’t know why I’m having such a hard time spitting it out. For so long, we met in secret, knowing it was wrong, but unable to stay away from each other. We knew it could ruin our family, that we ran the risk of being separated if anyone found out. So we took to stolen moments when no one was looking, and spending nearly all of our time in the barn. We had to hide for so long that I got used to lying to everyone around me. It became automatic. But we didn’t tell anyone, and things didn’t just fall apart. They shattered.
It’s not that I don’t trust Valen. We tell each other everything. But Thayer was different. I wanted our secret to stay safely tucked away inside our barn without anyone else’s opinions or judgment interfering. I felt like if I said it out loud, it would jinx it. But there’s no harm in telling her now that there’s nothing left to protect, and I could use someone to talk to.
“Before Danny died, Thayer and I were…together.” Sort of.
“I knew it!” she exclaims, slapping the mattress. “You fucked your stepbrother, didn’t you?”
I widen my eyes at her, gesturing toward the door. This is one conversation I don’t want my mom overhearing. “Be a little louder, why don’t you.”
Valen mimes zipping her lips and throwing away an invisible key. “Proceed,” she whispers.
Taking a fortifying breath, I decide to tell her everything. I tell her about the night of the funeral, when I nearly gave him my virginity. I tell her how I told him I loved him, and he told me to leave. I tell her about seeing Taylor there in his room later that night. I tell her about the suspicions surrounding Danny’s death, about Grey’s weird behavior, and how Holden and Thayer think he might have something to do with it. Everything I’ve been holding in spills out of me like an overflowing bathtub, but I can’t stop.
Valen goes through every emotion as I spew my verbal diarrhea, and when I’m done, all she does is pull me into a hug.
“I’ve made Valentina Solorio speechless.” I half-laugh into her sweater.
“You should’ve told me.”
“I know.”
“But I get why you didn’t.”
I hear Valen’s muffled laughter and I pull back, looking at her with my eyebrows raised in question.
“I’m sorry,” she says, shaking her head. “This just makes my petty heart so happy. Taylor is going to die when she finds out.”
“Valen! Did you not hear anything I just said? She’s not going to find out. There’s nothing to find out.”
“Why? It’s not like he’s your stepbrother anymore. And even if he was…” she trails off, a devilish gleam in her eyes.
I roll my eyes, flopping back onto my pillow. “It’s complicated.”
“Then uncomplicate it,” she says simply.
“I don’t know if it’s possible.” I wish it was. I wish we could let go of the lies, secrets, and hurt between us. I wish we could lay down our swords and give us a chance. But that kind of optimism belonged to the girl who confessed her love for the boy in the barn, only to have her heart broken. That girl learned her lesson.
Valen huffs out a sigh, falling back to my pillow beside me. We both stare at the ceiling, lost in thought.
“Let’s talk about something else,” I say.
“I think Liam’s going to break up with me.” Her tone is casual, betraying the sadness I know she must feel.
“What?” I ask, rolling onto my side to face her. “Why would you even think that?”
She keeps her eyes focused on the ceiling. “I don’t know. It’s just a feeling, you know? We’re drifting apart. We barely talk on the phone anymore. He hasn’t come down to see me for the past two weekends.”
“Maybe he’s just busy,” I offer. “He’s crazy about you.”
“Or maybe he’s surrounded by hot college girls and I’m not cutting it anymore.”
I snort out a laugh. “You’re joking, right? There isn’t a man between the age of twelve and two hundred who wouldn’t want you.”
“Yeah, for a night.”
When I realize she’s serious, the smile falls from my face. Valen is gorgeous and confident and strong and she knows it. It’s unlike her to let a boy get inside her head like this. Her sudden display of insecurity catches me off guard, but it also comforts me in some weird way. We all have our own shit.
“So go to him. Surprise him and spend the weekend with him. Show him what he’s missing.”
Valen bites down on her lip, considering it before she turns her head to look at me, a smile spreading across her face. “I do have some new lingerie that I’ve been waiting to put to use.”
“Not exactly where I was going with that, but that works, too.” I laugh.
“Okay. Enough feeling sorry for ourselves.” Valen sits up, pulling on my arm to bring me with her. “You’re going to shower. I’m going to order pizza, and then we’re going to watch that serial killer documentary you’ve been trying to force on me.”
“Who needs boyfriends when your best friend knows the way to your heart?” I jump down from the bed and she smacks my ass on my way out.
“Really sad that this is your idea of a good time. But you’re welcome.”
Shayne
I jog down the stairs, stopping in the kitchen to grab a muffin before I leave for school. My mom is at the counter with her back to me, coffee mug in one hand and the phone to her ear, speaking in a hushed voice. I slow my steps, trying not to alert her to my presence.
“It’s not the right time,” she says, sounding exasperated. “They’ve had a rough year. They all have. They’re just now finding their new normal.”
Who is she talking to? She pauses and my heartrate picks up in pace at her cryptic words, as if it has information that I’m not yet privy to.
“It’s not only up to you.”
Another pause.
“What do you expect me to do? Lock her in her room?” she whispers. “She’s a teenage girl, August.”
August? Great. He’s probably ratting me out for the other night. I roll my eyes. What a pal.
“Mom, I’m leaving!” I call out as I pluck a blueberry muffin out of the plastic container on the counter. She whips around to face me, and I give her a quick wave before turning to leave. She hurries off the phone, telling August they’ll continue their conversation later, and then she’s calling my name.
“Shayne, wait!”
My shoulders tense as I slowly turn back around, ready for the lecture that’s sure to come.
“I know you’ve got a lot going on with school and volleyball, but I could use your help cleaning out some of the rooms upstairs.”
I was not expecting that. “Okay.”
“The sooner we can get this place cleaned up, the sooner I can sell it.”
That gives me pause. “Sell it? Why would you sell it?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” she asks, as if that’s been her plan all along. “Grey’s on his own. You’re going off to college soon.” She glances around. “This place is too big and too much responsibility for just me.”
“That’s what you want?” I know my mom’s relationship with her parents was rough, but this is her childhood home. She has to have some attachment to it. This house doesn’t hold any sentimental value to me, but this town does, and the prospect of not having a reason to come back has my stomach twisting in knots.
She shrugs. “It’s really my only option, Shayne. I’ll sell the house to some rich jerk, put you through college, and buy myself a nice little three-bedroom home somewhere between you and Grey.”
I nod. “Okay. Well, I’m gonna be late,” I say, hitching a thumb over my shoulder. “Talk later?”
“Go, go,” she says, pasting a smile on her face. “I’ll be at your game tonight.”
I almost forgot I had a game.
“There is a game, right?” She looks down at her phone, tapping at the screen. “I could’ve sworn it said today.”
“No, it’s today. I’ll see you tonight then.”
Her phone rings again, and she gives me a wave before turning back for the kitchen. I walk to my car, hop inside, and start the engine, my mind going in twenty-seven directions. On a whim, I try to call Grey again as I’m backing out of the driveway. Maybe he’ll pick up this time.
Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t.
“Asshole,” I mutter, tossing my phone to the passenger seat.
I start driving, fingers tapping on my steering wheel. I don’t want to go school today. I want answers.
Fuck it.
I turn left instead of right and pull onto the highway.
Tell Me Pretty Lies Page 15
