The Truth About Lies

by Aly Martinez

  “And, Cora, being with you isn’t exactly torture. So no apologies needed, okay?”

  I was definitely right about Penn. He was a really good guy.

  He sucked in a deep breath. “However, at the risk of pissing you off again, I want to be honest and let you know I’ve heard all about Nic. Drew told me.”

  I turned to stone in his arms.

  Right. No doubt Manuel had rambled for hours about the devil I was and the curse I’d brought onto his family.

  Straightening, I tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but Penn didn’t budge.

  “Say the word, Cora, and I’ll let you go, but I’d really like it if you didn’t.”

  I stilled, my heart aching. “Did he tell Drew that it was my fault? Nic dying?”

  He shook his head, the five-o’clock stubble on his jaw scratching my cheek. “I don’t know what Manuel told Drew about that. But I can promise you, after meeting Marcos and Dante, neither of us think a Guerrero getting killed was your fault.”

  He was not wrong about that. However…

  “Nic wasn’t like them. He was a really good guy. One of the best.”

  “And knowing he was your man, neither of us would doubt that, either.”

  God, why did that feel so good? Someone assuming the best about me rather than the worst?

  I melted deeper into his arms.

  “If you knew about what happened to Nic, is that why you cleaned Angela’s apartment?”

  He sighed and his arms loosened for a fraction of a second. “Partially. Ripping out the carpet was completely selfish. I couldn’t live in a building knowing the bloodstains were there. It was too much like… Yeah. Anyway. Laying the linoleum and getting rid of the couch was for you. I didn’t know that woman, but you did. And I didn’t want you to have to go down there and let her go all over again.”

  A silent sob reverberated in my chest. “Thank you. Truly. I’m not sure turkey bacon burgers and screaming at you to get out of my apartment was the appropriate way to say it, but…thanks.”

  He leaned away to flash me a weak smile, and then he dipped low to rest his forehead on mine. “I don’t like talking about Lisa, but if you ever want to talk about your man, I’ll listen.”

  Great. I’d been an ass and he was being sweet and understanding. Guilt soured in my stomach. “I’m sorry I accused you of working for Manuel.”

  His nose brushed mine. “I’m sorry I gave you reason to think I was. But I swear to you, I have no fond feelings or sense of obligation toward any of the Guerreros.” He paused. “Present company excluded. Because, even though she’s stubborn as hell and refused to let this thing go between us, I happen to have quite a few fond feelings for this one.”

  My cheeks heated, and I bit my lip.

  He groaned. “Christ, you’re fucking cute.”

  I’d prefer stunning, irresistible, or sexy. But, from Penn, I’d take cute any day of the week.

  “So, truth or lie?” I blurted.

  His mouth stretched, so obviously recognizing my redirection. “You gonna explain it now?”

  “It’s a game I made up so that I can tell lies.”

  “Oh, well, that’s reassuring.”

  Rolling my eyes—and probably grinning like a maniac—I took advantage of our continued embrace and traced his biceps up to his shoulders. “If someone asks a question and you don’t want to answer it, you can lie, but you have to announce that it’s a lie. That way, you don’t break trust and there are no hurt feelings, but the truth remains a secret.”

  His hand traveled up my back, stopping between my shoulder blades. “Makes sense.”

  “You can also ask for a lie if you’re not ready or don’t want to hear something.”

  “And what if I want the truth?”

  I shrugged. “Well, you can ask for it. But I’m under no obligation to give it to you. That’s the purpose of the game. So, truth or lie? Which one do you want?”

  His smile fell. “From you? I always want the truth. You don’t have to hide with me, Cora. I’m not somebody else you have to protect.”

  My breath caught. Sweet baby Jesus. He was not allowed to say things like that anymore. Because I liked them. A lot.

  I cleared my throat and then stated, “Okay, then. Truth. Despite me turning into a statue when you arrived, then morphing into a crazy woman after dinner, and then spending a solid five minutes telling you all about my ex, this wasn’t the worst date-slash-non-date in the history of all date-slash-non-dates.”

  His hand came up to my face, sweeping my jaw up to my cheek before tucking my hair behind my ear. “It did end pretty okay, didn’t it?”

  “Is it already over?” My disappointment was laughable.

  “Well, considering that River and Savannah are standing in the hall behind me, I’d say the date part is over, but I’d be happy to hang around for the non-date portion of the evening.”

  I pushed up onto my toes to peer over his shoulder, and just as he’d stated, both girls were peeking their heads out, watching us intently.

  “What happened to you two staying in your room all night?”

  “We heard you yell,” Savannah defended, River’s pale face confirming it.

  Reluctantly, I released Penn, hating the loss immediately. After walking over to them, I patted Savannah on the cheek and then threw my arm around River for a side hug. “All the more reason you should have stayed in your room. You both know better than to come out during something like that. But relax, okay? Everything’s fine. Penn and I just had a little misunderstanding. The good news is he’s offered to hang around and watch Moulin Rouge with us.”

  Penn put his palms up in defense. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! I did not agree to that!”

  The girls both laughed.

  Penn grinned.

  And I beamed at him.

  Definitely, definitely not the worst first date.

  Penn

  All three of them were asleep. The home screen on the DVD player illuminated the room. Savannah was stretched out on the ugly, brown loveseat. River was curled into a ball on the opposite end of the couch. And Cora was in the middle, her legs pulled up, her heels to the cushion, her head resting on my chest, and her hand on my abs.

  My body was still amped from her confessions about her family and her ex. I wanted to slay the entire universe for having abandoned her in a life like that. If there was ever a woman who deserved more, it was her.

  I tightened my arm around her and she briefly stirred only to fall back asleep with a sigh.

  Cora was a cuddler.

  And I was whatever the hell she wanted me to be.

  Now, with her secured to my chest and lost in what I hoped were dreams for her future, I hated that I had to wake her up.

  I hated that I had to leave.

  I hated the life that awaited me outside that apartment.

  This wasn’t supposed to be a part of it. The warmth in my chest. The overwhelming contentment with her in my arms. The singe of desire.

  But, for some fucked-up reason, it was all there, rising to the surface like a pot of boiling water.

  Sweeping my fingers around the curve of her face, I whispered, “Cora. Baby.”

  She hummed, but her eyes didn’t open.

  “I gotta get going. I need you to lock the door behind me.”

  With closed eyes, she tilted her head up. “What time is it?”

  Resting my palm on the side of her face, I lazily traced her cheekbone with my thumb. “One.”

  She groaned, stretching her legs out like a cat. “Shit. I need to make sure all the girls got out on time.” She pried one eye open and peered up at me like an adorable weirdo. “Hi.”

  I smiled, feeling it radiate over my entire body. “Hi.”

  “Sorry I fell asleep.”

  “Don’t be. I thoroughly enjoyed watching you do it.”

  “Not creepy at all,” she teased.

  “Nah, creepy was when I held your nose to make you stop snoring. For the record, it
didn’t work.”

  Her mouth fell open and a brilliant laugh bubbled from her throat. “You liar.”

  “All right, fine. You caught me. It actually worked like a charm.”

  She slapped my chest and softly giggled. “You know, I like this guy. He’s a lot more entertaining than Mr. Broody.”

  I quirked an eyebrow. “You better be talking about me, or Mr. Broody and I are going to have words.”

  This earned me another giggle, only she didn’t slap me. She glided her hand up my chest and around my neck, all the while staring at my mouth.

  Or at least I think she was staring at my mouth. Because I sure as hell was staring at hers. With the way she’d been watching me all night, it was a miracle of epic proportions that I hadn’t kissed her already. I’d snuck a few in on the top of her head while she had been pouring her heart out, but I hadn’t been brave enough to take her mouth yet.

  Snapping my attention away from her pink, crescent-shaped lips before I had the chance to do something seriously stupid—and more than likely seriously amazing—I said, “I gotta go. Can you lock the door?”

  “Yeah,” she groaned, sitting up. Dragging her messy hair up into a ponytail, securing it with a rubber band from around her wrist, she glanced at River and Savannah. “Jeez, we all passed out.”

  I stood. “Obviously, it was a very stimulating movie.”

  “Hush, I saw you mouthing along to ‘Roxanne.’”

  “It was a cover of The Police. But, being that you were barely a fetus in the eighties, I don’t expect you to understand.” I extended a hand down to help her up.

  Her round ass swayed as she led me outside. I closed the door behind myself so as not to wake the girls. The cool, early morning temperature was only hours from giving way to the heat of the sun, but for now, it swirled all around us.

  “I had fun tonight.” Crossing her arms, she rubbed her shoulders for warmth.

  I needed to walk away. Go back into my apartment. Remember who I was and why I was there. Instead…

  “Come here,” I said, opening my arms.

  She didn’t delay in moving into them.

  I wrapped her in a hug, warding off the chill in the air—and in my chest. “That better?”

  “Much,” she whispered, snuggling in close. “Thanks for tonight. I had a lot of fun. Even if I did snore on you.”

  I chuckled. “Me too, Cor. Also, I should probably tell you while I’ve got you wrapped up so tight you could never escape that I do in fact like mustard. But I should warn you it is by far not my worst quality.”

  She gasped dramatically. “You leave the toilet seat up, don’t you? Re-wear socks? Dear God, don’t tell me you wear a Speedo.”

  “I don’t wear underwear, Cora. You think I’m tucking into a Speedo?”

  She giggled. And I fucking loved it.

  My stomach wrenched, and the words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Why do you live in a world like this?”

  Her body tensed, but she made no attempt to step out of my hold. I ran a hand up and down her spine until she relaxed again.

  “Lie,” she whispered. “I like it here.”

  Careful to contain my anger at how amazingly screwed up that answer was, I murmured, “Fair enough.”

  Her head tipped back, her chin resting on my chest as she gazed up at me. “So I guess I’ll see you in the morning?”

  “Bright and early.” After one last squeeze, I won the war with my arms and reluctantly let her go.

  I watched as she turned to the door, the most incredible high coursing through my veins.

  “Hey, Cora?” I called, stopping her just before she went inside. “How do half-truths work in your game?”

  She slanted her head to the side and shrugged. “Well, I guess they’d have to be two separate statements. One truth. One lie.”

  “In that case, I feel the need to tell you that I haven’t thought about kissing you at least a dozen times tonight.” I forced a smile through the storm brewing in my chest. “And yeah. That was a lie.”

  Her breath hitched and her lips parted, the most beautiful surprise covering her more beautiful face. “That’s not fair,” she whispered, bringing a hand up to her mouth to touch her lips. I felt it as though she were stroking my own. “No one should be that good the first time playing.”

  “Beginner’s luck?”

  Her face lit as she cut her gaze to the ground. Instinctively, I bent at the knee as though I could keep her in my sights. I hated that I was missing her smile.

  “A dozen times, huh?” she asked.

  “Give or take a three-percent margin of error.”

  She looked back up at me with eyes so bright that they made my stomach knot. “Only three percent?”

  “That may have been another lie.” I shot her a wink, but on the inside, I was cursing the universe.

  She rocked on her toes. “Maybe we could test the margin of error another night? You know, for research and all.”

  “That sounds like a date.”

  “It does, doesn’t it?” Her excitement paired with the blush of her cheeks punched me in the gut. “Okay, then. Thanks for…ya know. Everything, Penn.”

  I nodded. “Night, Cora.”

  “Night.”

  I watched her until she shut the door. And I stood there until I heard all three locks click into place.

  Only then did I suck in a deep breath and prepare to face my destiny.

  The moment I got inside, Drew sat straight up on the couch. “How’d it go?”

  “You were right. She knows where Catalina is.”

  Cora

  After Penn had left, I hadn’t been able to fall asleep. I’d stared at the ceiling smiling like crazy until everyone had checked in, the sun had risen on the horizon, and I’d been forced to get up and get to work.

  Throughout the day, I’d seen Penn twice. The first time we’d passed in the hall, he’d smiled, cordial and distant.

  It’d sucked—hard and a lot.

  However, the next time as he’d squeezed past me in the hall of my apartment, going as I was coming, he’d trailed the tip of his finger across the back of my hand and tossed me a sexy wink that had nearly made me trip.

  I’d been mentally replaying that one at around six thirty that afternoon, when I’d sat on the couch for the briefest of seconds.

  Some hours later, I woke from a dead sleep because of a hard knock at my door. Disoriented, I leapt to my feet and searched the room, relieved to find it empty when another knock sounded.

  “Shit,” I mumbled, trying to get my bearings. “Um…who is it?”

  “It’s Penn. I was wondering if maybe I could give it another go with the pipes in your bathroom?”

  I glanced at the clock. It was after nine. The guys worked long hours, but that was a bit much. Though it’s not like I was going to tell him no. I’d been dying to talk to him all day.

  “Yeah. Sure.” I looked down at myself. Old, stained yoga pants and a white tank top, sans bra. Shit. “Can you hang on for a second?”

  I didn’t wait for his response before I raced to my bedroom. Okay…my options were get fully dressed and try not to look like a woman who was just comatose on the couch, though the wild hair and the seams imprinted on the side of my face would have been hard to hide…

  Or I could pull on a pair of not-hideous sleep shorts and a bra, drag my hair up, and pop a piece of gum to combat my middle-of-the-night morning breath.

  I hated both options. But I went with door number two.

  Finger-combing the curls at the ends of my ponytail, I hurried back to the door, pausing to toss the gum out—ya know, just in case.

  “Sorry about that,” I greeted.

  His smile fell as he gave me a quick head-to-toe. “Shit. Were you asleep?”

  Stepping to the side, I motioned for him to come in. “Kinda. I passed out on the couch.”

  He remained in the hall, his large red toolbox at his side. “Damn it. I should have called.
I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

  “It’s okay. I needed to get up anyway.”

  His smile returned. “Truth?”

  I rolled my eyes, regretting that I’d ever taught him that damn game. “Fine, no. That was a lie.”

  He finally took a step over the threshold. “Whatever. I’ll take it.” I watched his back as he headed to the…kitchen? He set his toolbox on the counter. And then things got even more confusing.

  After flipping the thing open, he revealed two white takeout containers. “How do you feel about Thai?”

  “From a restaurant? I don’t know. I’ve never had it. Out of your toolbox? I’ll pass.”

  Humor danced on his face. “It’s from a restaurant, crazy. I just didn’t want anyone to see me carrying it in here. I didn’t figure you’d want word to get out about our non-dating status.”

  My back shot straight. “We have a status?”

  He smirked. “No. Currently we have a non-status. Though I was hoping Thai food”—he retrieved a bakery box—“and six cupcakes might help me change that.”

  My mouth fell open, and I clutched my chest. “Dear God, you’re like Mary Poppins with muscles and a toolbox.”

  He laughed in a short burst. “One, I like that you’ve noticed the muscles. Two, it’s Maury Poppins, actually. Mary’s a distant cousin.”

  Giggling, I took the bakery box from his hand, cracked it open, and then moaned. Dear sweet, sweet baby Jesus. They were chocolate with mounds of chocolate icing and even more chocolate shaved on top. These were not your average grocery store cupcakes. These snack-sized cakes from heaven had come from Delilah’s—my absolute favorite hole-in-the-wall bakery in the world. Well, maybe just Chicago; I hadn’t really traveled anywhere else to shop comparisons.

  Delilah’s was a good twenty minutes away, but one bite of that melt-in-your-mouth icing and it was well worth the trip. Every year on my birthday, I made the trek, paid thirty freaking dollars for six of those orgasm-inducing confections, and then spent the next few days treating myself for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Very few people knew that though.

  As in one other person knew that. Only because I would get her six on her birthday as well.