Cheater (Curious Liaisons Book 1)

by Rachel Van Dyken

  “It’s been a while.” I nodded thoughtfully. “Let’s just take it one step at a time, alright? You have the right to feel anxious.”

  “Lucas Thorn.” She breathed my name. “One day you’ll tell me what turned you into this, but until then . . . I’m going to be grateful for it, even if it was horrible, because I don’t think I could do this with anyone else.”

  I didn’t want to talk about my past. That was another thing I made sure my girls agreed to: they were never allowed to utter the question, Who hurt you?

  I never talked about it.

  And if one of them persisted in asking, I kicked her out of my bed and replaced her, but with Amy, it was different. She needed an emotional connection; hell, she just needed to be needed. Up until her husband’s sudden death she’d been a stay-at-home mom. Her new life was scary, and she was used to having a man depend on her for everything. Now she was back in the workforce and the dating field at the same time. I knew it was terrifying for her.

  She wasn’t my usual.

  I’d met her at one of my favorite bars and knew she’d be a great addition to my weekly list. She wasn’t pouty, or dramatic—hell, none of my girls were—she was just, nice.

  I liked nice.

  Needed it just as much as I needed sex.

  Besides, I had the roommates for my more unusual tastes.

  “Let’s go.” I held out my hand. Amy stared at it and then took it. I tugged her out the door. My apartment was in a luxury building near the edge of Belltown. The walk would be good for her, good for us, and maybe she’d be able to focus her thoughts more.

  Her breathing picked up speed the minute I stopped in front of the Volta building. With an amazing view of Puget Sound, my two-bedroom penthouse was a bachelor’s dream come true. And though I had a fantastic salary as a corporate VP, the only reason I had been able to lease one of the top floors was because the owner of the building had been my Wednesday. God, sometimes I missed Monica, but she’d gotten married, moved on, and often emailed me pictures of her baby.

  Even after she’d gotten married, I’d been to dinner at her apartment more times than I could count.

  I stopped going when she got pregnant. Her husband, while understanding, wasn’t really a big fan of my lifestyle. I couldn’t blame him.

  After all, I’d seen his wife naked and still had the balls to sleep with other women on other days of the week.

  “So”—Amy clenched her fists—“this is it?”

  “Let’s go.” I rubbed her back and led her through the lobby and quickly into the elevator, hitting the button for the eighth floor.

  Twenty seconds later, the doors opened.

  She gulped.

  I shoved the key in my door and let her in. She was one of the first women who had actually seen my place, although she’d never been in my bedroom. None of my girls had. And I had a feeling she wasn’t going to be staying long anyway.

  “Wow.” She gasped. “Your floors are incredible. Everything is so modern.” Another gasp. “That. Kitchen.”

  “I love cooking.” I smiled.

  She returned it, then nervously tucked her hair behind her ears. “Should we . . . go to the bedroom?”

  “Nope.” I grinned. “I think we should stay in the light, so I can see you.”

  “But—”

  “Amy . . .” I pulled her into my arms. “Let’s just kiss.”

  So we did.

  For a half hour, on the couch, and then, on the floor, me on top of her, her legs wrapped around my waist.

  I was into it.

  Until I started thinking of Avery.

  Amy must have felt my hesitation. “We don’t have to do this. I know I’m inexperienced, and—”

  I silenced her with my mouth and slid my hand up her thigh. “I think I know how to get you to stop thinking.”

  She fell apart in my arms within two minutes.

  Her body was so responsive, starving for a man’s attention. And I felt good about it, good about giving her the release she needed, even though I was confused about why I didn’t really feel like sex.

  Amy yawned.

  I let out a low chuckle. “I’ll call you a car.”

  “No, it’s okay. I’m just—” Another yawn. “Sleepy.”

  “Orgasms do that to a woman who’s always had to be on top all her life.” I winked and pulled her to her feet. “I’ll pour you a glass of wine while you wait.”

  She nodded, her eyes blurry, unfocused.

  I pulled up Uber and grabbed her a nice black sedan that was only five minutes away, then poured her a glass of chilled wine.

  When I returned to the living room, she was sitting in one of my favorite chairs, legs tucked beneath her, staring out at the Sound.

  “Here.” I handed her the wine and waited for the inevitable, when she’d tell me that while I was really great, she just couldn’t do this.

  “You’re wonderful.” She didn’t look at me. “And I’m so thankful that you’ve been patient with me, giving me weeks to decide what I want—and I think, I think I want something different . . . than this.” A tear slid down her cheek.

  I caught it with my thumb and pressed a kiss to her neck. “Amy, you’re absolutely beautiful, and it’s okay to feel that way.”

  She stared into my eyes. “I don’t get it.”

  “Get what?”

  “You.” She shook her head. “This, Lucas.”—Ah, the expected last-name drop!—“You’re better than this.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” I smiled sadly. “I’m not.”

  “But—”

  I stood. “Your car should be here in about one minute. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

  “Thank you.” Standing up on her tiptoes, she placed a polite kiss against my cheek. “I hope you find your happy, Lucas—I really do.”

  She walked away, and I stared as the door clicked shut. I gulped down the rest of her wine and continued staring at the door.

  “What the hell is in the water?” I muttered, then reached for my cell and called my best friend, Thatch.

  I wasn’t interested in any of the substitutes tonight.

  Maybe I just needed a guys’ night, a night to clear my head of all things work and Avery.

  I wanted to blame her.

  So I did.

  It was, after all, her moans I wanted to hear, not Amy’s, damn it, and when I’d tried to get in the mood, I couldn’t.

  Because even though Avery was sometimes a judgmental psycho, all I could imagine was her standing over me with tears in her eyes—like her hero had fallen into the depths of hell, and she had no way of saving him.

  “What?” Thatch barked by way of answering his cell. “I’m getting ready to go into the OR.”

  “You work tonight?”

  “Off after this last breast augmentation.”

  Lucky bastard got to touch tits all day long and get paid for it. “Our spot at seven?”

  “Done.”

  He hung up. Thank God he was free, because for a half a second I had entertained the thought of calling Avery.

  Shit.

  Chapter Eight

  AVERY

  “I hate him.” I sucked my drink down, my lips clamping hard on the straw with a vengeance.

  “Eh.” Austin arched an eyebrow and grinned. “You’ve said that like ten times—once on the way over here, twice when we walked in, and every time you take a sip. I’m pretty sure I got the memo.”

  “Why are we friends?” I wondered aloud.

  “You’ve been stuck with me since second grade. I’m not changing now, even though I’m so busy these days I can barely see straight.” She pouted her red-tinged lips and twirled her hair into a low bun, then slumped her shoulders. “I think I may actually decide to become a bum. You know, live off the land.”

  “You were kicked out of Brownies,” I pointed out. “And last time your electricity went out, you asked if I knew how to light a match.”

  “I
was just making sure I was doing it right!” she yelled defensively, her pale skin going red.

  I burst out laughing. “Because you’re afraid of fire, admit it.”

  She lifted one shoulder. “It’s more of a healthy fear, like Oh, that shit’s hot—let’s not burn down the house or a finger off. Those things happen, you know, with stuff like firecrackers.”

  “Okay, my little fire-fearing friend.” I patted her hand gently.

  She scowled. “How much do you hate him again?”

  “This much.” I held my hands wide, nearly taking out our waitress as she tried to squeeze by us. We were at the bar, drinking away our sorrows. The only reason I was there was because Austin had promised to buy me two drinks. Then again, her parents were rich, so I didn’t feel too guilty about saying yes.

  She still lived at home.

  Of course, if my parents had three pools, a sauna, and a tennis court, I would ask to be buried in their house.

  But no. Instead, I had my mom’s macaroni and a room filled with stuffed animals that came alive at night. Yay me!

  When I was little, I was convinced my teddy bear was real—and all these years later, I still found him in different spots throughout the house, though I was pretty sure my dad moved him around to freak me out, the bastard.

  I let out a wide yawn. “Hating people is exhausting.”

  Austin gave me a funny gaping look, then red flooded her cheeks.

  “What? Why are you blushing? Who did you see?” I glanced around the dimly lit bar, hungrily seeking the reason for her reaction, but all I saw were overworked men in poorly fitting suits and a few girls with way too bright lipstick and skirts that barely covered their asses.

  Austin gaped again, her gaze tracking right behind me.

  “What?” I turned, but she grabbed me by the dress and held me in place.

  “If you love me, as a friend, you won’t turn around right now.”

  “Why?” I asked slowly.

  “Because the hottest man candy in the entire world just looked our way, and if you look, he’ll know I’m talking about him. Quick, lipstick on my teeth? Weird makeup smudges on my cheeks? Tell me straight, sister, because I’m going over.”

  Austin always looked perfect, even when she was tired from trying to finish her MBA in less than two years.

  Her dark brown hair was wavy and messy but gorgeous, and her blue eyes stood out like giant, dazzling diamonds.

  “You look horrible, ugly. How did you even leave the house this morning?”

  “Thanks.” She kissed the top of my head, hopped off the barstool, and ran off.

  I finally turned around when I thought it was safe, but it was too dark to make out the guy she was talking to. Then again, she was taller than most, so her body was blocking the view.

  “Move, bitch,” I hissed under my breath.

  “Well, well, well. Drinking alone I see,” a familiar voice said to my left.

  I closed my eyes and willed Satan away. That was how those things worked, right? I needed garlic.

  Instead, I reached for the salt in front of me and shook a little in Lucas’s direction.

  When I opened my eyes, he was glancing down at the salt on his pants with a cheerful grin. “I think that only works on vampires. Or is it witches?”

  “And here I thought it worked on all of Satan’s minions and even the little red man himself—my bad.” I smiled wide and took a large drink of my vodka and Coke. “And I’m not drinking alone. Austin found, according to her, the hottest man alive, so she just had to chase after him. Fingers crossed she won’t get another restraining order.”

  He scowled. “You still hang out with her?”

  It was no secret that he’d never approved of my friendship with the girl who pushed me off the monkey bars in first grade. I have the scars to prove it.

  “Yes, Thorn.” I nodded. “Because that’s what friends do when they don’t screw you over and destroy your life by betraying your trust. They stay loyal, friends for life and all that. Duh, we only had like fifteen friendship bracelets in middle school.”

  “Oh, I know.” He stole my drink and gulped it like a caveman. “I’m the one that had to cut them all off when you broke your wrist and it started to swell to the size of a small whale.”

  “Hey!” I snatched my drink back, only to find the glass was empty. See? He was a complete monster! “It’s not my fault I fell off the roof!”

  “It was totally your fault!” His voice rose. “You were waiting there to dump water on me!”

  “Because you called me stupid!”

  “You failed math on purpose to talk to the quarterback!”

  We were chest to chest.

  I don’t know when it happened. When the anger between us sizzled into something else.

  But it did.

  And I had no graceful way of making it unhappen, so I jerked away, like he was too hot and I’d just burned myself on his perfectly sculpted chest.

  He rolled his eyes and motioned at the bartender. “Chill, I don’t hit on children.”

  “I’m sorry.” I punched him in the shoulder. “Did you just call me a child?”

  He eyed me up and down quickly, dismissing me like I wasn’t in a really tight purple dress that made my boobs look awesome. “You’re twenty-two. Hardly an adult.”

  At that moment, there were so many immature things I wanted to say and do. Most of the latter involved something sharp—or maybe just a really, really large car that I could steal and run him over with—but instead, I went with a more stupid option, knowing it would cause Lucas to back off. I thrust out my chest and whispered in a low voice, “Funny, I’m pretty sure that’s the last thing my boyfriend thinks when we’re in bed together.”

  Lucas spit the drink he’d just ordered all over the bar, slowly turning his head, hazel eyes locked on mine. “No.”

  “What? What do you mean no?”

  “You shouldn’t be having sex.”

  I burst out laughing. “You do hear yourself, right? The king of the polygamy colony? Because that’s not just the pot calling the kettle black, that’s like—you know, I can’t even come up with a comparison. It’s plain stupid.”

  “So now I’m stupid?”

  “At least I didn’t call you a child.”

  He smirked. I didn’t like it. I knew that smirk. He believed he had the upper hand, though he clearly didn’t. “So you want me to think of you as a woman—is that what you’re saying?”

  My mouth opened and closed at least twice before I gulped and looked away, then whispered, “You’re still stupid.”

  I was really good at comebacks.

  Austin chose that awesome moment in time to charge up to me with a man in tow and yell, “We’re going to do shots!”

  “Pass.”

  “Thatch?” Lucas coughed out. “Found yourself a girl, have you?”

  I looked back and forth at each of the men. If Thorn knew the dude, that was bad news for Austin. She deserved a good guy, a nice guy, one she could take home to her mansion and make sweet love to while her maid brought her grapes in bed. Not . . . him.

  “Oh, hey, Lucas—sorry, didn’t see you.”

  “How was surgery?” Lucas asked, completely ignoring everyone but mainly me, which was dumb. I wanted him to ignore me.

  And maybe if I kept repeating that in my head, I’d actually start believing it.

  “Typical, boring.” Thatch sighed and flashed a sultry smile my way. His wavy blond hair touched his shoulders, making him look like a really hot surfer. “And you are?”

  “My best friend,” Austin purred. “I begged her to come out tonight and—” Something must have clicked in Austin’s brain, because she stopped talking, and her eyes zeroed in on Lucas. “YOU!”

  “Oh hell,” Lucas muttered. “Hi, Austin, nice to see you’ve grown into your ears.”

  “And yet here you are.” Austin shook her head. “Years later, and your nose, still big. I bet your good friend Thatch can help
you out with that.”

  Lucas’s nostrils flared on cue, while Thatch hid a laugh behind his hand and coughed out, “Well, this is fun! You guys all know each other?”

  “I’ll give you the short version,” I piped in. “Lucas almost married one of my sisters before sleeping with my other sister the night before said wedding that didn’t happen. Austin and I were bridesmaids, so she was spending the night. In a drunken attempt to leave the house without getting shanked by my grandfather—who fought in Nam, by the way—Lucas ran into Austin’s brand-new Mercedes with his SUV.” I grinned. “I skipped the really fun parts, but you get the idea.”

  Thatch whistled, while Lucas mouthed “Thanks” in my direction.

  Austin added a dreamy sigh. “I loved that car.”

  “I’m sure your parents were more than happy to buy you another,” Lucas added with no regret in his smooth voice.

  And although he was spot-on, I felt the need to defend my friend. I was just about to when Thatch interrupted.

  “Hey, I live just down the road. Why don’t we all take the party to my place and order pizza? I’m starving, and as much as I’d love to take Austin out alone, I’m pretty sure that one or both of you will end up dead if left to your own devices—so let’s go.”

  “I like him, so take-charge,” I whispered to Austin.

  “Good with his hands,” Austin added.

  “Sexy too. He wears jeans well.”

  “He can hear you,” Lucas said.

  “Oh, he was meant to.” I winked at Thatch and gave him a little wave while Austin grabbed her purse and jacket.

  I followed everyone out of the crowded bar, because at this point going home to my empty apartment meant I’d lose whatever war that was beginning between Lucas and me.

  One of my heels caught in a crack in the sidewalk, and I tripped.

  Lucas caught my arm and hissed out a curse. “Learn to walk in them or don’t wear them at all, Avery.”

  There would be blood, folks.

  There would be blood.

  Chapter Nine

  LUCAS

  “What the hell was that?” I was torn between strangling Thatch or hitting him over the head with the pizza box. “They can’t be here!”