The Lies That Define Us Part 7
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I headed inside and straight to the kitchen for a snack. Liam had already disappeared, which didn't surprise me at all.
I made my sandwich and carried it upstairs to the room I was staying in. I figured the less he saw of me the better. And it wasn't like I wanted to be around him anyway.
Right?.
Liam.
Ari had been living with me for two weeks, and in that two weeks she'd woken up screaming every single night.
She usually found me in the kitchen, just like that first night, but I never said anything, and she didn't either. I think she hoped I didn't hear her night terrors, but in her gut she knew I had to, and that's why she didn't say anything.
Standing by the gla.s.s door leading into my backyard, I watched as workers hustled around getting set up for the Fourth of July party.
It would be the second year I held the party at my house.
In past years, I'd always celebrated the holiday with my family at the Wentworth Mansion.
Once I left Virginia, though, I hadn't wanted to go back.
I knew my parents and extended family would be upset that I was missing yet another holiday, but I couldn't bring myself to care.
Willow, my cousin who was more like my unofficial little sister, had already called me five times today. First, to beg me to jump on a plane and get my a.s.s there even if I was late, and when that didn't work, she just b.i.t.c.hed at me. I let her, because I deserved her anger. I hadn't been too nice to her when she showed up a month ago. My behavior had been unacceptable considering how close we'd always been.
But Willow, she didn't know how hard it was for me.
Yes, her dad was in the same band as mine, but he'd never faced the same ridicule as my father had and in turn me. My dad was the so-called bad boy of the band Willow Creek, which in the media's eyes automatically made me bad.
But that wasn't all there was to the story.
There was always more, and that's why you should never judge a book by its cover.
"What's going on?"
I turned away from the window at the sound of Ari's voice. She stood a few feet behind me in a pair of tiny cotton shorts and a loose s.h.i.+rt that fell off one shoulder exposing the smooth slope of it and golden glow of her skin. On her feet were a pair of fuzzy pink socks. Her dark hair was pulled away from her face in a ponytail, but a few stray pieces fell forward to frame her face.
I knew I was staring, checking her out without saying a word, but I couldn't help it.
I was a guy, and Ari was hot.
That didn't mean I was going there, though.
I didn't have time for the baggage of a relations.h.i.+p. Not then, and maybe not ever. I'd been burned once, and I had no desire to head back into the fiery pit of the dating world.
Clearing my throat, I finally answered, "Party. It's the Fourth of July."
Her lips parted, forming a perfect O shape.
"I didn't realize." She shook her head. "I don't work today, but I'll stay in my room and out of your way."
I winced. I hadn't been the nicest to Ari. In an effort to distance myself I'd been a downright a.s.shole. It wasn't much different than my usual persona, but the poor girl did have to live with me.
"Nah, don't do that. It's a party. Join us. Have fun." I shrugged like it was no big deal, but it was, because I was effectively inviting her into the inner circle I'd spent the last two weeks shoving her out of.
Her nose wrinkled, and she looked at me curiously. "Are you sure? I don't want to be in your way."
"You won't be."
She narrowed her eyes.
I raised my hands in surrender. "Okay, so maybe I have told you a few times you've been in my way, but I'm inviting you, so this is different."
"More than a few," she countered, glaring at me.
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "If you don't want to come, don't. If you do, then great. Do whatever the f.u.c.k you want. I don't care."
I turned away from her and stormed outside to supervise the table set-up. It was really an excuse to get out of the house away from Ari.
"I want that over there," I barked at one of the workers.
The guy's fear-filled eyes lifted to meet mine and he hurried to correct his wrong.
For a brief second I felt bad for my harshness. I knew my intensity and rash demeanor was off-putting, and I used it to my advantage to keep people away. I'd been doing it for so long that it had become second nature.
I paced around the backyard, checking out everything that had been set up so far. There were a few tables for sitting and one long one where food would be placed. All the exciting stuff was being set up on the beach. My yard wasn't big enough for a real party.
I tipped my head at the guy I'd yelled at, hoping that it counted as some sort of an apology, and headed inside to make breakfast.
I was surprised, although I shouldn't have been, to find Ari already making breakfast. The past two weeks she'd made almost all of our meals-at least, if she wasn't working.
"Let me do that." I stepped up behind her.
She jumped, and a gasp tumbled from her lips. She turned around so fast that our bodies collided, and we both went tumbling to the floor like a pair of bowling pins.
I caught the brunt of our fall, but her knee smacked against the floor, and she hissed between her teeth.
"You okay?" I asked, holding onto her arms.
She nodded her head quickly, ducking her head to hide her gaze. She scurried out of my hold and quickly stood. I stared up at her from where I was still sprawled on the floor. She was jumpy, her eyes darting around the room.
"You need to stop sneaking up on me," she finally muttered and returned to stirring the eggs.
I shook my head, completely confused by her. "Yeah, sure, whatever."
Straightening her shoulders, she said, "You can toast the bread."
I nodded, fighting the urge to smile as I gathered myself from the floor and then moved to grab the bread from the drawer.
Ari had gradually become more comfortable, growing a bit of a backbone and biting back when I snapped at her, just as she had the moment before. Don't get me wrong, there were still those times when she just about jumped out of her skin-like when I surprised her just then, but I'd seen enough to know that she was no harmless kitten. Nah. She had teeth and claws and wasn't afraid to use them. When she remembered she had them, that is.
I stuck the bread in the toaster and pushed the b.u.t.ton down. Turning my back to it, I stretched my arms behind me to rest on the counter.
"Where are you from, exactly?" I questioned her.
Her awe of the ocean and palm trees was enough to tell me she wasn't from California. She glanced up from what she was doing, her lips parted in surprise. A dark curl fell over her forehead, and she blew it away with a puff of air.
"I thought we didn't talk about personal things." Her eyes were steel. Unyielding.
"We don't." I tilted my head to the side. "But I don't consider where you're from that personal. Now your bra size, that's personal, but I'm guessing a B-cup." I eyed her chest.
"You're unbelievable," she cried, grabbing the nearest item she could get ahold of-a dishrag, as it turned out-and slinging it at my head. There was that fire again.
I caught it easily and clenched my teeth to contain the laughter that wanted to escape.
"Easy, Tiger," I jested.
She bristled even more at that.
I really shouldn't try to rile her up, but it is too intoxicating to resist.
Her ponytail was coming loose, and little pieces of hair floated around her head.
With a huff, she turned away from me and slid the cooked eggs onto plates.
"I should spit in yours," she hissed, venom coating her words.
My lips twitched. "We both know you won't do it."
Her shoulders sagged, and she glanced at me over her shoulder, her blue eyes softening. "I know."
She grabbed the plates and turned around. "Toast?" She nodded at the toaster.
"Yes, ma'am." I mock-saluted her.
She rolled her eyes and set the plates down on the bar before taking a seat on one of the stools.
I grabbed our toast and b.u.t.tered them before joining her.
"Here you go, Tiger." I handed her a piece.
She took it, flicking her head to the side to rid a piece of hair from her eyes. "Tiger?"
"It's nothing." I shrugged, shoveling food into my mouth.
"Of course not," she muttered, pus.h.i.+ng her eggs around her plate. Finally, she speared a bit and took a small bite. "Stop watching me."
I looked away. "I'm not watching you."
"You were," she argued.
"You were mistaken." I took a big bite of toast and smiled goofily at her as crumbs fell out of my mouth.
She glared back at me. "Mistaken, my a.s.s."
I finished my breakfast and took her plate when she was done. She barely ate anything. I shook my head at the nearly-full plate before moving to the trashcan to dump it.
I heard her shuffle off the chair, and before she could leave the kitchen, I called out, "If you decide to come to the party, it's pretty casual. Most of the girls wear bikinis and shorts or something."
She paused and her eyes raked over my face. I didn't know exactly what she was searching for there. The girl confused the h.e.l.l out of me.
"I'll keep that in mind." She turned quickly, and, with a swish of her ponytail, was gone.
I shook my head.
Ari baffled me in a way no one else ever had.
I knew-knew deep down in my gut-that there was much more to her than she was letting on.
The question was, would I be willing to get close enough to find out what exactly that was?
Ari.
I stood in my room, staring out the large windows that overlooked the beach, purposely standing far enough away that if anyone looked up they wouldn't see me.
The party had been raging in full-force for an hour, and I'd yet to join.
The easier choice would have been to hide in my room all day and night like I did most days.
But that gig was getting old.
I'd left one prison and put myself in another of my own making.
I was terrified that if I didn't hide Blaise's people would find me. Somehow. Some way.
The chances of one of his people being at Liam's party were slim to none, but still, that microscopic chance kept me chained to my room and the shadows.
When I escaped, I thought I was finally going to be free, but if anything I was even more scared and tied down than I was before. At least then I knew the deal. Now? I knew nothing and as long as Blaise was alive, I'd always be looking over my shoulder. Was that really a better life to live? Or would I have been better off to have stayed?
The Lies That Define Us Part 7
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The Lies That Define Us Part 7 summary
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