Lies We Tell

by Angel Lawson

  As far as I’m concerned, they can both go to hell.

  My mood hasn’t altered by the time I get home.

  “How was school?” my mom calls.

  “Fine,” I mutter, heading to the cabinet for a box of cookies. Sugar. That’ll make me feel better.

  “That ‘fine,’ huh?”

  She says it lightheartedly, but my mom has been through the ringer the last few months. First Rose—then what Monica did to me. I arrange my expression into something more neutral. “No, seriously, it was fine. Just busy. I’m on the committee for the retreat.”

  A frown tugs at her mouth. “Right. The retreat. You sure that’s a good idea?”

  “Why wouldn’t it be a good idea?” I ask through a mouthful of cookie.

  She leans against the counter. “It’s two hours away and with everything that’s gone on…I don’t know, I guess I don’t like having you that far away.”

  “I’m going to college in eight months. Maybe farther than two hours away.”

  She exhales. “You’re right.”

  I walk over and give her a hug. “I know the past few months have been scary, but I’m okay. My friends will be there, and we’ll be well supervised. We talked about that today at the meeting.”

  She squeezes me tight and releases me. “Okay. I know I’m just being dramatic.”

  “You’re not, but maybe a little overprotective.”

  “Like your dad says, it’s my job to do all this.”

  “It is, and it’s my job to push the boundaries.”

  She looks down at the cookie bag and reaches for it. I grab two more and let her have it.

  “Don’t spoil your dinner,” she says in her most authoritative voice.

  I grab my backpack. As much as I’m ready to get the hell out of Thistle Cove, especially after that scene after school today, I’m definitely going to miss my mom.

  I enter my room and the first thing I see is a flat, square box on my bed. My stomach twists, both nervous and excited. Finn, I presume. He’s in and out of this room like a thief.

  As always, there’s a note written in thick black marker.

  No pressure. When you’re ready. Just thought it would look good on you.

  His name is smudged.

  That boy spoils me.

  I haven’t even had the chance to tell him or the others about the ending of my shit-tastic day. Sitting on the bed, I lay the box in my lap and open it. I push aside the pink tissue paper and stare at the contents.

  My heart and stomach react as I touch the silky, pale blue lingerie.

  Alice’s words echo in my brain.

  “Promiscuous behavior.”

  That’s part of what made me so angry. The slut-shaming. I haven’t even had sex with two of the boys. Other stuff? Yes, but we’ve been playing a slow game of cat and mouse. Yet even now, even leaving this for me, Finn’s not pushing me toward anything.

  When you’re ready.

  Finn’s been good about going slow—letting us get reacquainted. Taking it on my terms. This is the most forward move he’s made yet. I’m not a rash person. I’m a thinker and a planner. Which is what I do through dinner. Think about the lingerie hidden under my pillow. Plan how I want to move forward.

  This is my story.

  Not Rose’s. Not Alice’s. Not Jason Chandler's.

  Am I ready?

  By the time the dishes are cleaned, and my homework is done, I’ve decided.

  I’m ready.

  He likes to surprise me with little things—well, I can surprise him too.

  I pick up the box and open it, running my fingers over the silky lace.

  I know just how to do it.

  11

  Finn

  I get home from my training session late. I look out the window, but Kenley’s light is off. She’s already in bed or studying downstairs. I hate being so busy—so physically tired—but I’ve worked hard for the opportunity to play college ball and I can’t throw that away. Even if it’s for the most beautiful girl in the world.

  I shower and change, eating my dinner in my room while reading my class assignment. I hear college athletes can get fluff classes. I almost hope it’s true. There are just only so many hours in a day.

  I fall asleep twice during homework, the second time letting my books slide off the bed and onto the floor. I reach for the light and turn it off, passing out as soon as my head hits the pillow.

  A loud thud draws me from my sleep. I blink at the noise outside the window. Probably a tree branch or a dream. I sit up, pull off my shirt and push down my sweatpants, before getting back in bed.

  I’m not sure how long it’s been when I feel the edge of my bed sink and a warm hand on my stomach. I jerk up and see the glint of blonde hair on someone sitting on the edge of my bed.

  “KK?”

  “Expecting someone else?”

  This may be a dream too.

  I rub my face and feel her hand slide around to my side. Nope. She’s real.

  “I just wasn’t expecting anyone, but wow,” I reach out and touch her face, “this is a nice surprise. How did you get in here?”

  “I jumped.”

  “You what? Alone? Are you crazy?” My heart leaps into my chest. That jump—it’s not terribly hard, but if she’d fallen…

  “I’m stronger now that you’ve been working with me. And I wanted to surprise you.”

  “Next time let me know, I’ll open the basement door.”

  “That’s kind of the opposite of a surprise.”

  “Trust me, Ken, you showing up in my bedroom is always welcome. You could’ve been hurt. I can’t handle that.”

  “I’m fine. Promise.” She smiles down at me—a little bit nervous, and I pull back the cover and scoot over, giving her room to get in.

  There’s not much room in my narrow single bed and I try to keep a bit of distance. The last thing she needs to be is assaulted by my overeager, hormonally charged body. Kenley has other plans.

  “You smell good,” she says, sniffing my shoulder. “Clean.”

  “You always smell good.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “It is, even covered in sweat I can’t get enough of you.” I kiss her nose, her jaw, her lips. Her mouth is minty, her tongue warm. I move my hand to grip her hip and pull her to me.

  “Sorry,” I say, grimacing.

  “Don’t be sorry,” she says. I can feel her smile. “He’s happy to see me.”

  “Ecstatic.”

  I kiss her again. She has no idea how hard I try to keep myself under control around her, but tonight? Coming to me in my bed? It’s testing every ounce of willpower I have.

  Her hands run over my chest, nails grazing my nipples, I pull her to me, on top of me, and her hair hangs over her shoulders. She reaches for the zipper on her hoodie and tugs it down, revealing pale, perfect flesh. My mouth goes dry when I see the intricate lace and the thin straps holding up her breasts. I’m still processing as she lifts up and removes her shorts, revealing the sexiest lingerie I’ve ever seen.

  I’ve seen Kenley in a bathing suit before. She lifeguarded all summer at the pool and although she wasn’t mine to look at, I did. Wistfully. But having her here, straddling my hips in pale blue panties with lace barely covering the parts of her that I’m dying to explore, may kill me.

  I swallow and lift myself, so I can kiss her on the mouth.

  “You like?” she asks with a knowing smile.

  “So much.”

  “Good.”

  She pushes me back down and comes with me, tongue licking against mine. I feel the heat between her legs and I know for damn sure she feels the steel rod between mine.

  “I’m ready,” she whispers, kissing my ear and neck.

  “You sure?”

  “Positive.”

  She sits up, giving me a fantastic view of her body—the body she’s pushed and transformed over the last few months. She’s strong. Beautiful. Fierce. I run my hands over her breasts, tug
ging at the lace, and revealing a brown peaked nipple. I rise up and lick the tip, eliciting a shiver that runs through her body.

  Heat courses through me, long held-off desire. I kiss her mouth, her shoulders, her breasts. My thumbs slide under the thin strap at her hips and she lifts, giving me room to slide them down. I’ve seen her before, tasted her, but this is different. This isn’t just pleasure—it’s bonding. She came to me, she’s giving herself to me, and I want to give myself back to her.

  I don’t know how far she’s gone with the other guys—I don’t want to know—her movements are excited but sure, any nerves are about the two of us doing something new together, rather than about her being a virgin.

  She pulls at my shorts and I lose them quickly, my cock bobbing in excited freedom. Kenley touches me, running her thumb across the gooey tip, before taking me in her hand and stroking my shaft.

  “Hey,” I say, touching her face. My heart hammers harder than it ever has before in my life. “I love you.”

  She smiles and blushes, less from being on top of me nearly naked and more from my words. I swallow back the fear of her not feeling it too, of going too fast, of being a cliché or cheesy or lame. Her finger traces my lips. “I love you too, Finn Holloway. I always have.”

  I smile in return, feeling a rush of euphoria. My hand skims down her side and I reach for my bedside table. I knock my phone off the top and rummage around for the box of condoms that has remained untouched for the last six months. My fingers graze the foil and I pull it out.

  Kenley takes it from me, tearing the package with her teeth. I lean back as she rolls it on, hands gentle and precise.

  Yeah, she’s done this before.

  My balls tighten, my belly twists, I’ve never been so turned on in my life.

  I wrap my arms around her and rolls us over, holding my weight while pushing against her. Her eyes hold mine; eager and watchful. I kiss her as I enter, her breath becoming mine as I become one with her.

  “Okay?” I ask, brushing her hair out of her eyes.

  “Yes,” she replies in a low exhale, her legs wrapping around my body.

  I go deeper, and we fall into an easy rhythm. I love the way she looks under me, I love the way she feels. Tight, but not tense, sweet, but dangerously sexy. I’ve known it for a long time, but as she comes undone, and our bodies succumb in a mix of pleasure and ecstasy, I know for certain Kenley Keene is the only girl for me.

  Ever.

  12

  Kenley

  “I should go,” I say, snuggled against the warmth of Finn’s body. It’s the last thing I want to do but there’s no way I can stay. It’s two a.m. and every nerve in my body feels like a live wire. Sex with Finn was as good—no, better—than I ever expected.

  “Get dressed and I’ll walk you over.”

  “I can go back the way I came.”

  He shakes his head. “Not a chance. Don’t ever do that again. Especially if you’re on your own.”

  His protective streak is endearing, even if it’s a little annoying. I kiss him and relent, searching for my clothes. I extend my arms around my back to fasten my bra and feel his fingers on my skin as he slides the hooks into place. He kisses my shoulder.

  “Don’t do that,” I say, reaching for my hoodie on the floor, “or I’ll never leave.”

  “One day.” He tosses me my shorts.

  He’s right. One day we’ll get out of Thistle Cove and live on our own—maybe together. Maybe with the other guys. There are so many possibilities for us once we leave this little town.

  We quietly walk down the stairs and out the back door. I search for the hidden key under the back deck and unlock mine. Even now, Thistle Cove is the kind of place where people don’t have security systems.

  “Good night,” I say from the top step so we’re face to face.

  He gives me a kiss. “I meant what I said.”

  “About what?”

  “Loving you.”

  My heart thuds hearing it again. The first time, I nearly melted in his bed—it’s just as good the second.

  “I meant it, too.”

  I hate leaving him, but I do, easing into my house and quietly closing the door. I wait for a beat, watching until he’s back at his house. It may have taken thirteen years, but Finn Holloway finally gave me his heart.

  I ignore my alarm not once but twice, burying my head under my pillow. That’s two nights in a row that I’ve stayed up later than I should. It’s the chime of a text, followed by two more, that finally drags me awake. I grab my phone and blink at the screen.

  F: Last night was great.

  F: You’re great.

  F: Surprise me any time you want.

  I smile at the phone, feeling my skin heat. Being with Finn was amazing, but he needs to own his part in getting me over there.

  K: Keep leaving me naughty presents and I’ll keep showing them to you.

  Little dots hover at the bottom as he types his response. I hop out of bed and head to the bathroom. He must be getting ready too, because the dots vanish. I quickly wash my face and change for school. My phone chimes as I’m putting on my shoes.

  F: Naughty presents?

  K: Sneaking in my room. Leaving me sexy lingerie?

  I tuck my phone in my pocket and grab my backpack and head downstairs. I grab a doughnut out of the box and a cup of coffee, then head outside.

  Finn’s waiting for me, his forehead creased.

  “Hey,” I say, swallowing a bite of doughnut. Now that football is over, he rides with Ozzy and I to school. “What’s wrong?”

  “Kenley, I didn’t leave you that lingerie.”

  “You left me cookies? And that box of candy? And a DVD of Goonies?” I’m terrified he’ll say no.

  “I did give you those things, but,” he swallows, confusion clouding his eyes, “I wouldn’t leave you something like that—something so intimate. Not where your mom could find it, or fuck, that presumptuous.”

  My heart pounds, first slowly, then increasing.

  “Maybe it was Ezra?” he suggests.

  I shake my head.

  “Ezra and I haven’t, you know,” I look into his worried eyes, “that yet.”

  “It’s not Ozzy’s style,” he says.

  No. Ozzy’s idea of a sexy outfit is me wearing his ratty Nirvana T-shirt with nothing underneath. I’m familiar with the fantasy.

  Only one other person has sent me something and left it in my room.

  The coffee cup trembles in my hand, then tumbles to the ground, shattering when it hits the pavement. A moment later the doughnut comes back up and I vomit in my mother’s bushes.

  “Kenley, what’s happening?” Finn asks, rubbing my back. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  I wipe my mouth and look at him. “Text the guys. I need to tell you something.”

  I’m fine until we get right in front of it—it being the play cottage in the woods behind Rose’s house. I smoked my first joint here. Reconnected with the guys. Kissed them all.

  I also almost died here.

  But it’s not Monica’s place. It’s ours—or it’s become ours over the last few months. Ozzy’s fingers thread through mine.

  “You okay?” he asks quietly. Finn and I picked him up and although I didn’t tell him anything in the car, he knew something was wrong.

  Not by a fucking long shot.

  “Let’s get inside, it’s cold.”

  Ezra holds open the tiny door and I duck, bending to get inside. Finn’s in an armchair, worriedly tugging at his hair. Ozzy and I take the miniature couch. Ezra closes the door and sits in the empty chair.

  “What’s such a big deal we’re all skipping school?” Ezra asks. “Not that I have a problem with that.”

  Finn’s eyes flash at me. “Tell us.”

  He only knows that the lingerie freaked me out—that it wasn’t from him or the other guys. The truth sticks in my throat and they all watch me with apprehension.

  “Before the police declared
Rose’s death a suicide and we were still trying to figure out what happened to her, I did a little more research on her SugarBabies account. I found out she’d been communicating pretty consistently with a guy that goes by the handle BD.”

  “Big Dick?” Ezra asks, shaking his head.

  Ozzy chimes in, “Big Daddy?”

  “I don’t know, and I don’t really care,” I say, hands nervously twisting in my lap. “I decided to see if I could lure him out—try to get some information from him. I created my own account.”

  “You what?” Finn asks, shoulders tight.

  “At first, I didn’t do anything with it. I forgot about it, really. But then one day I saw that he’d sent me a message.” I swallow, refusing to look at any of them. “And we started communicating.”

  “Jesus, KK,” Ezra mutters.

  Ozzy rests his hand over mine, calming them down. “Did you find out anything?”

  “No. Not really. The whole thing made me very uncomfortable. I got the feeling he has a method, like easing girls into trusting him—getting them to reveal private information--which I didn’t do,” I add quickly. “Everything I said was made up.”

  “Did he try to meet you?” Ozzy asks.

  “No. And I cut it off anyway.” I look into his blue eyes. “Not after you and I, you know, took our relationship to the next level. It seemed wrong.”

  “It seemed wrong because it was wrong,” Finn says. “What the hell, Kenley? How could you do something so dangerous and not tell us?”

  “Dude, chill,” Ezra says to Finn.

  Finn glares at me. “Tell them the rest.”

  Ozzy and Ezra share a questioning look.

  “When I cut it off, I cut it off. I messaged him one last time and I didn’t even open the app after that. I thought it was over and done with, but after Monica tried to hurt me,” I look around the cottage. It’d happened right here. I can still taste the bitterness of the pills in my mouth. “And I got out of the hospital, I got a lot of flowers and cards and messages. One of those was a vase of fresh flowers with a card, signed by BD.”

  I pull it out of my pocket and hand it over.

  “’I’m here when you need me.’ Holy shit, Ken. He has your real name and address.” Ozzy stares down at the card.