Don’t Lie to Me

by Amber Bardan

  He almost passed for a regular guy.

  I tore my gaze free before I could study him too deeply. Angelina moved toward them. I reached for another friend—Leigh—searching to regain footing on the ground, but lost all sense of timing.

  The music pounded too loud. The beat skipped too fast. The scented candles burned too strong. Everything kept moving, but I stopped. I witnessed every motion of every person around me as though in double time.

  All these friends danced for me now.

  All these “friends” hadn’t bothered to call the whole year I’d been away. They adored me when I was here and forgot me when I was gone.

  Because I was for parties. I was for good times—easy and fun.

  I panted, struggling to catch my breath. I stood among friends, yet the loneliness had never been so bleak.

  “You okay?” Leigh touched my shoulder.

  My gaze focused on her. Leigh who I’d hung out with the most after school. Leigh who’d been on my team. Her blue eyes squinted with concern that knifed through me. Leigh who’d never once asked how the star goal shooter managed to “fall down stairs” yet again.

  “I’m fine.” I brushed away her hand and wandered from the group to the kitchen. I grabbed a plastic cup, and sifted through the bottles of soda I never usually touched, and my fingers stopped at a wine bottle with Angelina’s name on it.

  “Our first vintage.” Haithem walked up beside me.

  I picked up the bottle without looking at him, twisted the top and poured a little into the cup, then took a sip. The wine was crisp with the barest hint of sweetness—exactly what I liked on the rare occasions I was inclined to indulge.

  “What do you think?”

  I turned to him. “Is there anything you’re not great at?”

  He frowned. I flinched. That hadn’t meant to sound so bitter. It really hadn’t. I stepped back from this gorgeous, genius man, who’d managed to fall desperately in love with my best friend and proved that such a thing was possible.

  Just not for me.

  I filled the paper cup, sacrilege given there were wine glasses on the bench.

  “You don’t usually drink.”

  Haithem didn’t usually provide commentary on my behavior either. “I do with the girls.”

  “This isn’t the girls.”

  My gaze darted to the other room. No, it wasn’t. There were plenty of other people at this party, not just him. There was even Aaron, who I’d slept with years ago before circle rules.

  “Anyone here I shouldn’t trust?” I stepped closer, staring at him, daring him to repeat his warning from Italy.

  “No,” he said. “You’re safe in my house.”

  I found myself flinching again. Had Avner told him what happened at the bar? Of course he would. Did Angelina know too? Heat filled my cheeks.

  I chugged the wine from the cup, then set it down. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

  “I’m only looking out for you.”

  I laughed dryly. Didn’t they all seem to be trying to do that. “Worried I’ll get messy and embarrass your saintly wife?”

  I turned to leave, and a jolt tore through me—Angelina stood in the doorway, eyes wide and hurt. The wine hit me all at once. My head buzzed. Angelina retreated back into the party. Haithem went after her, knocking my elbow on his way past.

  I stood frozen for a moment, then did a thing I swore I’d never, ever do—poured myself a drink to numb it.

  Drink finished, I returned to the living room. Avner leaned up off the wall when he saw me, his mouth fully downturned. My chest constricted. In the week since he’d slammed my door in my face, he’d gone from breaking into my apartment and inviting me to live with him, to text messages letting me know my things were on their way to my new apartment.

  Curt, formal messages.

  Like the ones you get from an ex when he tells you that you left your jacket at his place.

  Now it appeared not even my friendship was good enough for him. I licked my lips, and tried to suck it all in—the wretchedness that I’d never let myself feel.

  But couldn’t.

  Because someone who’d hurt me in a way I still couldn’t wrap my head around or begin to understand, watched me. So I held his gaze and hoped he saw it.

  His frown fell further. But that wasn’t enough. He wasn’t bothered enough. I wanted to torture him the way he’d tortured me. I wanted him to suffer as I was suffering.

  In that mercenary moment, I didn’t play with the fire—I threw myself into it.

  I left the living room, removed my panties then danced enthusiastically enough that any one paying close enough attention would know that I had.

  I rubbed up against Aaron, who you bet had not gotten over me since high school. I danced with everyone, the boys and the girls, but my attention fixed on the one person not joining in at all.

  The one observing too much.

  * * *

  I sashayed into the adjoining dining room where the music was a hum. Haithem, Angelina, Avner and a few others who must’ve been new friends had retreated to the table covered in desserts. When did Angelina get friends I didn’t know?

  Avner’s back straightened as though he smelled me coming. I saw the way he’d looked at me earlier—disappointed—again and again.

  That look would haunt my sleep.

  What right did he have to be disappointed? He was the one who was seducing me one minute and rejecting me the next. Who was calling us friends then ignoring me altogether.

  I curled my fingers over the top of his chair. “So this is where you hide the treats.”

  “Want Pavlova?” Angelina didn’t quite meet my gaze. I didn’t blame her, yet somehow, I still hadn’t brought myself to apologize.

  There seemed to be something growing in my chest. Lumps led up to my throat, and had to be breathed and swallowed over. By the feel of it I might have a tumor.

  “That’s okay, I’ll just share with my buddy.” I brushed Avner’s arm aside and sat sideways across his lap. His heat enveloped me, yet bumps rose on the backs of my arms. He clutched my hip as I wiggled myself cruelly into place. “You’ll give me a taste won’t you, babe?”

  He stared at me. I put an arm around his shoulders as though his gaze wasn’t the least bit intimidating. My heart thunked. He wouldn’t push me away.

  Avner wouldn’t embarrass me, that wasn’t his style.

  He held his cards closest of all. Unlike Haithem, Avner contained his power. He rarely spoke in company, but when he did his words were potent.

  I shifted my hips, and his eyes flickered in unspoken warning. Oh, I’d pay for this—I was counting on it—but I’d pay privately.

  He held his fork out to me, but I reached for his wrist.

  “Oh, you got cream on you.” I slipped the fork free and raised his hand. My lips closed swiftly on his thumb knuckle. My tongue brushed his clean, completely cream-free skin.

  His chest hitched.

  My system rioted with the urge to take his whole thumb into my mouth and suck, and suck, and suck.

  I let go.

  “Thank you,” he said, Mr. Politeness, without blinking. Heat burned from him into me.

  Oh lord, would I ever pay.

  He held his plate in front of me. I only stole the strawberries, then returned his fork. He set it on the plate on the table, dessert apparently forgotten.

  “Did you enjoy the gala?” Haithem broke through my daze.

  I should thank Haithem again for the invitation, but something brewed in me and I couldn’t switch off the ugliness. After warning me off, he’d sent Avner to take me to the gala, and as a result everything I’d hoped for had fallen apart.

  I clutched the back of Avner’s collar. If his arm hadn’t
been around me, I’d have fallen on the floor. Tonight there was already too much smothering me to suffer the reminder that all I’d striven for was amounting to pipe dreams. That if I didn’t bite the bullet and take a job working on someone else’s research soon, I’d be back to wearing gold bikinis, pulling on bitches’ hair.

  “Great.” I reached for Avner’s beer on the table, then took a shaky gulp. “What’s not to love about degustation.”

  Avner stroked my hip. My muscles constricted. I hated how my mind twisted the action to be him comforting me. Hated that some silly place in me wanted to believe that he sensed absolutely everything was difficult for me right now. Hated that I wanted to cuddle into him for real.

  Hated that I wanted nothing more than to sink against his strength, and join in the deeper conversations that happened in here before I came in and killed the mood.

  I clutched the bottle to my chest.

  “Can I get you another soda?” Haithem asked.

  My teeth grit together. Since when was he so hung up on what I did? Avner’s fingers stilled on my side. I glanced between them. The narrowing of Haithem’s gaze stoked the rage building in me.

  It hit me. If he’d asked Avner to take me to the gala, then he’d definitely tried to set the terms of our “friendship” again. Warned Avner off me again. It all made sense now, why Avner was still so set on rejecting me when the chemistry between us was cataclysmic. Haithem could say what he wanted to me about Avner, but deep down I knew the truth—he didn’t think I was good enough for his friend.

  “That’s okay, we like to share. We’re good buddies.” I sipped and put the beer down, then trailed my fingers from Avner’s collar into the back of his hair. “We were almost roommates. Avner asked me to move in.”

  Haithem’s gaze locked on Avner’s, confirming my suspicions. Yet one thing was clear, Avner didn’t tell Haithem everything after all.

  I bit my lower lip and widened my eyes. “Oh, but I said no.”

  Haithem didn’t so much as glance at me, but Angelina’s brow wrinkled and she stared at me as though I’d lost my mind.

  Avner’s thumb pressed into my side. I twitched. His grip loosened as though he hadn’t known he’d squeezed me until then.

  “You know me, I never mix business and friendship.” My words snapped sharply. I dropped my hand from his hair.

  Angelina stood. “Emma—a hand in the kitchen.”

  “Sure,” I said, but remained where I was.

  Angelina tuned to leave.

  I pressed my lips to Avner’s ear. His face tilted slightly—listening.

  “I am getting laid tonight.” I lurched out of his lap, leaving him with that to chew on, and sped into the kitchen.

  Angelina yanked a bowl out of a cabinet and slammed it on the bench, then glared at me. “What is up with you?”

  “Your husband, that’s who’s up.” I followed her behind the counter. “He’s all the way up in my business. What I drink—who I screw. He needs to stay out of it.”

  She tore open a box of cheese rings. “He’s trying to be a friend.”

  “No, you’re the one supposed to be my friend.” I grabbed the other side of the box. She tugged. I held on. “Tell me Avner’s deal.”

  She took a breath. “I don’t really know his deal.”

  “You know more than I know. Why is Haithem so adamant we not hook up?” I let her take the box.

  She stared at the foil packet inside. “He hasn’t said.” She looked back up at me. “But he didn’t seem to think it was an issue anymore. Is it?”

  “Yes, it’s an issue. I’ve been waiting over a month for Avner, and your husband is still cock blocking.”

  “A month, huh?” She popped open the foil packet. “You’ve waited an entire month?”

  “Pfft,” I scoffed. “No, not a month.” Try twice that, since we’d been traveling before I met him. “But too long.”

  Angelina poured the cheesy chips into a bowl.

  I picked out a ring and crunched it. “It’s not like I’m trying to marry him. We’re supposedly buddies now, so just tell the boss man he can relax—back off. We’re just going to have a little fun.”

  It was Angelina’s turn to scoff. She squeezed the lid of a pickle jar, then switched hands, straining.

  “Here,” I said, and reached for the jar.

  She handed it over and rubbed her palm on her side. “If it’s just about sex, then what are you so cut up about?”

  I gripped the jar hard enough it should’ve shattered. “This is my life. Maybe you’re okay with being dictated to, but I’m my own woman—I take what I want.”

  Angelina went still. Her green eyes squinted daggers. “So all this sulking is because there is finally one guy who won’t drop his pants at your command?”

  I swallowed. Another layer slammed down on top of my concoction of awfulness. I twisted the lid of the pickle jar. It burst open, spilling over the counter and sloshing on the front of my man-killer-red dress.

  “You know, I’d have thought you’d have people to do all this for you now.” I deposited the jar on the countertop, and mopped at myself with a hand towel.

  “You’re a lot of things, Emma, but I’ve never known you be cruel.” The husky, softly spoken sound of Angelina’s voice caused whatever strength was keeping my heart from the pit of my belly to let go.

  I was a lot of things according to other people. Slut. My nails bit into my palms. Easy. I knew exactly what she meant. What everyone meant. Irresponsible. I’d heard it my whole life. Heard it from the girls at school, heard it from my father, heard it from every boy I ever said no to.

  My stomach churned—I could just about vomit up my pulverized heart.

  I didn’t regret for a minute being easy in the way they all thought I should apologize for. But I did regret being easy. I regretted being easy in the way that meant I had a hundred friends and none who knew me. Easy in the way where I skirted the difficult conversations. Easy in the way where I’m not sure anyone besides Angelina knew what I did for a living, let alone understood at all why.

  She knew me, she should know better, yet she implied it.

  “Oh Emma, I didn’t mean it like that.” She touched my shoulder.

  I glanced at her hand. I couldn’t trust her any more than anyone else. She’d hurt me the worst of all.

  In that instant I hated her. Hated my best friend. My soul sister. She’d let me think she was dead. The closest thing left to family I had in the world—the only person I’d ever fully trusted—and she did that.

  When she went missing, something happened to me. All the ways in which I’d protected myself hadn’t been enough.

  I’d locked myself up tighter.

  More rules. More routine. More focus.

  Get up. Work out. Go to job. Study. Party. Fuck. Sleep. Start again.

  Until those things were all there was. I’d stopped all forms of dating in favor of having “dates.”

  “You’re one to talk to me about cruelty.” My voice cracked.

  Angelina’s expression stiffened. Her teeth gnashed. I’d never seen anyone look so pained, and apparently, I could feel more brokenhearted.

  “Are you ever going to forgive me?”

  The hurt in her voice made me wish back the words.

  I tried to breathe and talk. “I already forgave you.”

  “No, you haven’t.” Her eyes brimmed.

  Oh, fuck. Look what I’d done now.

  She turned to walk out. I grabbed her wrist. She stopped, and faced me again. The back of my eyes stung. If I kept this up I’d lose her. She might be kind, but even she wouldn’t take this much of my shit. I was self-aware enough to know that I pushed people away. I couldn’t do it with her.

  I wouldn’t.

  “I�
��m sorry, Angelina.”

  She sighed, glancing to the ground.

  “I’m not myself.” I let her go.

  She didn’t try to turn away this time, but did look at me.

  “So maybe I’m not completely okay with moving back to Melbourne. It hasn’t always been a great place for me.” My hand moved to my raw throat. Now that I’d started confessing, it wouldn’t stop. “Maybe I’m nervous about not having a job lined up to take care of myself.” I swallowed once, twice and a third time. “Maybe I’m a bit terrified that everything I’ve worked for is stupid and never going to come to anything.”

  Angelina eased closer, watching me intently. She better than anyone knew I didn’t say these kinds of things—even to her.

  “Maybe I’m a bit jealous that you used to be all mine, but now you’re his.” I choked. “That you’re so close with him and I’m not close with anybody.”

  I covered my mouth, snorting back the tears. What the fuck was happening with me?

  Angelina moved in and hugged me. I clutched the back of her dress with both hands.

  She squeezed me just as tightly. “Just because I’m married, doesn’t make us lesser friends.”

  “I know.” I inhaled deeply, and pulled myself together. “I just feel like everything is up in the air, and I don’t know where any of it will fall.”

  She pulled back. “Emma, let me help—”

  “You can’t.” I ran my index finger under my eye. “Thank you, really, but I need to work this out myself.”

  She sighed again but nodded. “Come on, let’s go back.”

  I glanced toward the sound of the music. “I don’t think I can.”

  “Why?”

  I puffed air into my cheeks. “I can’t switch back on tonight.”

  “Who says you have to?” She smiled at me gently. “Just come sit with us.”

  I stared at the dining room door where I’d left Avner with my ultimatum scorching his ear. “Will you hate me if I leave?”

  “Hate, no, but I wish you’d stay.”

  I hugged her again. “Thanks for throwing me a party. I’m sorry for freaking out like this.”