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Forgiving Lies
  • Текст добавлен: 7 октября 2016, 13:17

Текст книги "Forgiving Lies"


Автор книги: Molly McAdams



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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

“Seriously, this conversation is grossing me out.”

He blew out a deep breath and the corners of his mouth tipped up. “Why didn’t you want to go to drinks with their cousin?”

Don’t shake. Don’t shake. I gripped the seat belt like it was a lifeline and worked at keeping my heart rate under control. “He and I have bad history, I really don’t like him.” God, even I could hear the shakiness in my response. Before Kash could comment on it, I forced myself to sound as normal as possible, but I sounded like a cracked-out Valley girl instead. I definitely wouldn’t be winning any Oscars in my life. “Logan Hendricks, were you jealous of Eli?”

“What? Come on, Rach, I just didn’t like that he was playing both of you like that. Or that I thought he was, anyway.” He started sucking on that lip ring again and my eyes zeroed in on the action.

We’d just pulled into a parking spot, so I took off my seat belt, leaned in close enough that I could smell his cinnamon gum, and whispered, “Liar,” before throwing open my door and hopping out of his truck.

“I wasn’t jealous,” he grumbled as he joined me on the concrete.

Such a baby. “Whatever you say, Kash. What do you say to a pseudo lock-out night? Neither of us are locked out, but I’m going to be bored . . . I’ll even let you pick out the movie this time.”

He immediately stopped sucking on his lip ring and I frowned. “Let’s go.” He grabbed my hand and began leading me to his apartment, but I pulled back.

“No way, crazy. You finished off the Ben and Jerry’s in your apartment the other night. My place tonight.”

“I have the better TV.”

“But I’m Rachel.”

His head jerked back and his shoulders scrunched up as he looked at me like he was lost. “What—what does that have to do with anything?”

Oh, good question. “I’m not sure. Give me a bit to come up with an answer. But for now, it means you’ll let me get my way.”

Kash’s eyes narrowed and he sucked in a deep breath, but then he shut his mouth and shook his head. “I was going to say something that probably would’ve resulted in me getting slapped right now . . . but it would also mean you wouldn’t cook pancakes for me anymore.”

“Probably smart to keep your mouth shut then.”

“Unfortunately.” He sighed. “All right, lead the way to the ice cream. I don’t want to look like I’m Photoshopped anymore and you really need an ass.”

I slapped him.

Hard.



9

Rachel

YOU EVER HAVE that feeling when you know someone is in the room with you, even though you should be alone?

Yeah. I was having it right now.

I kept my eyes closed and tried to keep my breathing steady, but I was on the verge of a full-blown Rachel freak-out before I caught the scent of cinnamon. Cracking one eye open, I saw Kash sitting on the edge of my bed just staring at me with an amused expression.

“Can I help you?” I mumbled against the pillow.

“I’m hungry and want pancakes.”

“You want . . . What are you, five?! Make your own. I even bought the easy-make pancakes last weekend. All you have to do is add water.” I rolled over and groaned. “Seven thirty? Kash, we didn’t get back from work until after one. You have got to stop waking me up so early. And how are you even in here?”

He looked like he was fighting a smile and his eyes kept flashing up above mine. “Candice let me in.”

Trying to act like I didn’t notice where his eyes kept going, and like I wasn’t flipping out because I was sure my hair looked like a hot mess, I slowly brought my arm up to brush back the hair from my face when my hand hit something that tugged at my forehead. “What the hell?” I tried to look straight up and even leaned my head back to try to follow whatever was at the very top of my forehead. I saw a blue tip and grabbed at it before yanking it off and holding it in front of my eyes. “A Nerf dart?!

Kash shamelessly pulled up a Nerf gun and waved it at his side. His eyes slid back up to my forehead and a hard laugh burst from his chest. Rolling back, he fell off the bed and landed with a dull thump on the floor.

“What?” I snapped, and scrambled out of bed. As I made my way to the bathroom, I was hit once in the butt and once on my calf by more darts. “You’re such a child, Kash!” Flipping on the light, I blinked against the brightness before focusing on the mirror. A loud gasp filled the small room. “Logan Kash Hendricks! What did you do?”

He was still cracking up as he got to his feet and came to stand behind me. “I just had to make sure it was on there real good. So I tested it a few times . . . you’re a really heavy sleeper, by the way.”

“There is a hickey on my forehead!”

His body was shaking from the laughter he was trying to keep in now.

“It’s not funny! This better be gone by the time we go to work tonight.”

“Don’t be mad, Sour Patch.” He planted his chin at the top of my head and brushed at my bangs. “You have those, they’ll cover it. Can we have pancakes now?”

My eyes went wide and my jaw dropped as I continued to stare at him in the mirror. “No! Go make them yourself.”

He frowned and brought the toy gun up in front of us. “I’ll let you shoot me.”

I chewed on my bottom lip for a moment. Pancakes sounded really good right now. With a heavy sigh, I held my hand out. “Give me the gun.” As soon as it was in my hand, I went around collecting the three darts and put them back in with the other three still in there before aiming it right at his forehead.

Kash smiled, closed his eyes, and took all six darts like a champ. When I was done he had little red marks all over his forehead, and though I knew his would be gone in a few minutes, I felt like he’d gotten it worse than I did.

“Feel better?”

“A little.” I handed the gun back to him and turned toward my door. “Let’s go make pancakes.” I’d barely hit the kitchen when I realized I didn’t hear him behind me. “And don’t even think about shooting me again, or you’ll be on your own for breakfast!”

Whirling around, I saw him lower the gun that had been aimed at me and, with a pathetic frown, let it drop onto the couch.

I gave him the silent treatment while he pulled out the skillet and mix and I began whisking together the batter. I really wasn’t mad at him—okay, that’s not exactly true; I still couldn’t believe he’d given me a hickey on my forehead with a freaking suction-cup dart. But it was hard to stay mad at Kash when we worked together in the kitchen. He always found reasons to brush up against me, and whenever I thought he wasn’t looking, I’d take my time studying what I could see of his half sleeves and usually made my way up to his full lips. When I saw him sucking on that lip ring, my belly started heating and my mouth went dry. Every. Time. It never failed. So how was I supposed to be mad when I was currently finding it difficult to remember why I kept us as just friends?

“Damn, that’s a good hickey.”

Oh, right. That’s how.

I frowned down at the fully mixed batter. My poor not-yet-made pancakes . . . it was fun while it lasted. The next time he turned to check the skillet, I pulled the whisk out and set it gently on the counter. I really wasn’t worried about messes right now. Grabbing the bowl with both hands, I stepped right up behind him, reached my arms up high, and tipped it over. The sense of glee I got as I watched his entire body stiffen and all that batter fall onto his head was kind of alarming. No wonder he’d been so proud of his suction-cup hickey. I was damn proud of this mess.

When only a little dribble was falling from the bowl, I brought the bowl away from his head, set it on the counter, and had only taken two steps when he grabbed me around my waist and hauled me back to him. The movement made him lose his footing on the now-slippery tile and we both crashed down to the floor.

Quickly getting up on my hands and knees, I slip-crawled a few feet before my legs went out and I fell back to the floor. Kash dragged me back by my legs and I was laughing so hard I couldn’t even attempt to try to crawl away as he flipped me over on my back and slipped toward me until he was covering my body.

I laughed harder and wiped at his cheek, which was completely covered. “You, uh, got a little something there.”

His eyes were silver as he growled, “Now do you feel better?”

“Much!”

“I probably deserved that.”

“A little bit.” My laughter finally quieted and I smiled widely at him.

“Rachel . . .” His voice dropped and the huskiness alone caused my breathing to deepen.

When I realized that our bodies were flush, mine started warming again, and my eyelids fluttered shut when he brought one hand up to cup my cheek.

When he repeated my name, I could feel his breath against my lips and they parted in anticipation. His hand left my cheek and he leaned closer to whisper in my ear, “Your hickey looks really lonely.”

Wait. What?! My eyes flew open just as he wiped a hand covered in batter across my face. “You son of a bitch!”

Kash laughed loudly and attempted to move some of the batter so it wasn’t in my eyes.

“I will end you,” I said, making him laugh harder. “I hate you.”

“Don’t lie, Sour Patch, you love me.”

He was joking, I knew he was joking—but my heart still took off at his assumption. Kash must have noticed the change somehow, because he immediately stopped laughing and his gray eyes turned silver.

“Rachel?”

“I, uh—we should clean this up.” I attempted to slide out from under him, but he kept his weight on me and brought his hand up to my cheek again. I stopped moving beneath him and locked up my body as his gaze held mine.

His silver eyes fell over my face as his head inched down, and in the torturous seconds where his lips hovered over mine again, I told myself a dozen times I needed to push him away.

But needing and wanting are two completely different things.

Kash closed the distance between us and pressed his lips to mine, and in that instant, I felt like I was exactly where I belonged and my body relaxed between him and the tile floor. He parted my mouth with his own and a soft whimper left me when our tongues met and moved against each other. Kissing my bottom lip softly, he pulled back a fraction of an inch to look into my eyes again and smiled before leaning back in.

The door burst open and we jolted away from each other as much as our positions allowed as Mason ran into the apartment, a loud war cry following him into my room, where it abruptly cut off.

Kash’s chest moved roughly as we both came back to reality, and after a heavy silence he turned his head and called out, “Mase?”

I blew out the breath I’d been holding and refused to look back up at Kash as I silently berated myself for my actions over the last few minutes. That wasn’t supposed to have happened, and it couldn’t happen again. We both knew that.

My inner scolding stopped abruptly when Mason slowly walked over to the kitchen with a Nerf gun in hand. In a black wife-beater and cargo pants, with a bandanna around his forehead . . . he almost looked like Rambo.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Kash asked as he cautiously lifted himself off me.

Mase looked down at himself, then back up. “I saw you coming in here on my way back from my run with your gun. I thought we were gonna have a Nerf fight.”

Oh. Dear. God.

Even with the tension coming from Kash and me, I couldn’t help it. I burst into laughter until I was crying and snorting uncontrollably.

IT WAS NIGHTS like this I wished I didn’t have a job.

The bar had been slammed for the first half of my shift. Normally, I wouldn’t have complained; it made the shift go by faster and it meant more tips for me. But one of my tables during the rush was a couple with their toddler who thought it was hilarious to throw food off the table and at me, as well as continuously knock over her parents’ drinks. You’d think maybe they’d—I don’t know—move the drinks away from the baby. Or feed the baby rather than let her have her own plate right in front of her. Or maybe, just maybe, apologize for the fact that I was now covered in sour cream and refried beans instead of sitting there arguing with each other about who was better at playing Angry Birds. Just a thought, but what did I know? I was just the food-covered waitress with a smile on her face. That, added to the fact that Kash and I hadn’t mentioned our kiss once, and that Eve had decided to remind me of original sin by bringing me my monthly gift, and I now had cramps bad enough to bring Chuck Norris down . . . equaled one incredibly grumpy me.

I then began messing up orders and spilling drinks, and, in an attempt to save a woman’s white blouse, I tipped my tray back my way so a full bowl of salsa fell on me instead of her. I’m pretty sure my shirt had been craving salsa anyway.

The after-work rush had just begun to taper off when Kash pushed me down the hall toward the bathrooms and handed me a new work shirt.

“Go change, Rach.”

“What, you don’t like what I’m wearing now?” I laughed humorlessly and grabbed the shirt from him.

He smiled wickedly at me and leaned over so his lips were at my ear. “You look so . . . very . . .” His lips brushed my ear before he leaned back.

I cleared my throat and tried not to lean toward him. “I look what? Edible?” I asked, pointing at my newest addition to my shirt.

Sucking on the metal in his lip, he gave me a once-over, and when his eyes came back up to mine they were heated. Completely not fitting his next statement. “I was going to say disgusting. But sure, edible works too.”

“You’re such an asshole.” I smacked his arm and turned toward the bathroom.

He laughed and backed up in the direction of the dining area. “Cheer up, Sour Patch.”

Until I was home, in my pajamas, and had a pint of Ben and Jerry’s in front of me, that wasn’t likely to happen.

A part of me hated that he could so easily go back to how we’d been, without so much as a hint of what had happened that morning—but I knew that’s how it needed to be and was thankful that at least it hadn’t changed the friendship I’d come to love from him. I changed shirts, tried to wipe off as much as possible on my other shirt before throwing it in a to-go bag and putting it in my purse, and planted another fake smile on my face. I could get through the rest of the shift. Three more hours was nothing. Right? My cramps made their presence known and my back started aching.

I’d lied. Three hours would feel like forever.

Over two hours later, I’d successfully avoided spilling anything else on myself. And thank God there were no more evil food-throwing babies.

I was clearing some plates off a table when I heard the familiar strum of guitar chords. My heart clenched painfully as I slowly made my way to the kitchen. Tonight was another open-mic night, and while I enjoyed having live music playing throughout the bar and dining room, I didn’t usually pay that much attention to it. But there was no way to miss this song. The deep, husky voice began crooning through the speakers as I came back out of the kitchen empty-handed. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that I knew that voice as I made my way to a spot where I could see the stage.

I rubbed a hand over my aching chest and stopped suddenly when I saw Kash sitting on the stool in front of the mic with a guitar in his hands. What was he doing? Since when did he play guitar and sing? And why this song? His eyes searched the dining area and landed on me just as he began the first chorus of “I’ll Be.” Tears pricked the back of my eyes and my entire body warmed under his intense stare as he continued through words that meant more to me than he could have known. Not once did he take his eyes from me, and my mind and heart fought over my conflicting feelings. Part of me wanted to yell that he was the guy I’d been waiting for. That I was in love with him and was done being only his friend. The other part wanted to know why he was torturing me with this song. With everything else that had happened tonight and the fourth anniversary of my parents’ death less than two months away, I wanted to run away from there, to curl in a ball and mourn what I had lost and would never have. I couldn’t call my mom and tell her I’d met a guy whose presence alone made me dizzy. Who sang to me the same song Dad had always sung to her. I couldn’t tell my parents that no matter how hard I fought my feelings and pushed Kash away, I knew I’d met the man I wanted to marry.

The haunting words drifted to an end, and soon the chords did too. When Kash was finished, he put the guitar on the stand and began walking in my direction. Throughout all of this, his eyes still hadn’t left mine. Before he could reach me, the bitter side of me won out and I turned on my heel and rushed back to my customers. I kept myself busy for the rest of the hour and whenever I had to go over to the bar, I made sure to go to Bryce’s side so I wouldn’t have to face Kash again.

I knew I was being ridiculous, but if it had been any song other than that one, if it had been on a night that wasn’t wearing me completely down, I may have been brave enough to finally fight for what I wanted. But right now all I could think of was finishing out this shift at work and staying far from Logan Hendricks. Somehow, he knew how to get to me. And somehow, I knew that our being together was right. But especially after that morning, everything about him—and us together—scared me. And I wasn’t sure I could handle that right now.

People say that being in love is amazing.

They lie. It’s freaking terrifying.

“WHAT’S UP, LADY, how was work?”

I looked at Candice and groaned. “It sucked so bad!” I went into the kitchen, where she was searching for dinner, and jumped on the counter as I told her about the entire night—including Kash’s song.

“Oh my God! Did you tell him about that song and what it means to you?”

“No! We’ve never even talked about it. I really think it was just some freaky coincidence but it—God, it hurt, Candi.” I wanted to tell her about the kiss that morning, but Candice and I hadn’t talked about guys for me since the whole Blake incident, and I didn’t know how to bring it up now.

She looked like she was about to cry. My parents’ death had been almost as hard on her. “Well, what did you say to him after?”

“Nothing. He was walking toward me and I turned and ran back into my part of the dining room. I avoided him the rest of my shift.”

“Rach, I’m sorry.” She sniffed and blinked back tears that were threatening to fall as she fanned at her eyes rapidly. “Screw this. Tonight is a Chinese-food-and-Ben-and-Jerry’s kind of night.” She grabbed the Lean Cuisine she’d taken out, put it back in the freezer, and looked at our stock. “I’m going to go get food and another couple pints; we’re running low and I have a feeling we’ll go through a lot this week.”

I smiled weakly at her and slid off the counter. “I’ll go with you.”

“No, go get comfy and take some Midol. I’ll be right back.”

“Love you, Candi.”

She wrapped her arms around my waist and squeezed me tight. “Love you back. Always.”

I was in my pajamas and had just finished downing the pills and a glass of water when the door opened and Kash walked in. Candice has seriously got to start locking that door when she leaves.

“Are you locked out tonight?” I asked, but didn’t look up at him.

“No. I want to know what’s going on with you.”

Shrugging, I put the cup in the dishwasher and walked over to the couch. “Nothing.”

“So you just walked away from me and avoided me for the rest of the night . . . because you felt like it?”

“Pretty much.”

He walked over until he was standing directly in front of me, blocking my view of the TV, but I still didn’t look at him. “We talked about this.”

When he didn’t continue, I snorted. “We talk about a lot, Kash. You expect me to know what conversation you’re referring to just because you know which one you’re talking about? Can you move? You’re in the way.”

He moved. But it was to grab the remote out of my hand to turn the TV off. “You’re shielding again. Why? Did I push things too far tonight? Did something happen to you? Are you having nightmares again?”

“I’m just having a shitty night. Isn’t that enough?”

“Then tell me! Don’t throw your shield at me. I told you, no shields with us; if something is wrong, I want you to tell me. I can’t help you through whatever is going on if you shut me out.”

“I don’t need you to help me, I need you to back off! You’re not my boyfriend, you’re not supposed to be there to fix things.”

His eyes turned silver and his brow furrowed. “Where’s my Rachel, huh? The girl who just this morning dumped an entire bowl of pancake batter on my head and was kissing me . . . where is she?”

“First of all, you don’t have a Rachel. And as for this morning, we’ll say it was a moment of stupidity on my part.”

“A mo—” His eyebrows shot up and he took a step back as he shook his head. “A moment of stupidity? That’s really what you’re going to call that?”

It was a moment in my life I wanted to relive over and over again. But it was stupid. I shoved off the couch and headed for my room. “Since you like to let yourself in, see yourself out.”

Before I made it to my door, he grabbed on to my wrist and yanked me back toward him. “Stop with the goddamn shields!”

“Fine! You don’t want shields? Then they’re gone!” I tried to free my wrist, but it was no use. “I had a shitty night at work. Which you already mostly know about, seeing as you had to buy me a new shirt. Bad shifts happen, people get over it. As for the kiss . . . can I remind you that you were acting like it’d never happened as well? We shouldn’t have let it happen in the first place.”

“And why the fuck not?”

I kept talking over him. “And then you had to go and sing that song! Why did you pick that song?”

His head jerked back slightly and his eyes lost some of their fierceness. “You’re mad about me singing the song? You love that song. You play it all the time.”

I finally succeeded at freeing my wrist and crossed my arms under my chest. “And how the hell would you know that? I know I’ve never played that song in front of you!”

“Seriously? You leave your windows open! We live right across from each other. I can hear it from my apartment.”

Oh. “Well, that’s private. It’s for my parents. You don’t understand what it could possibly mean to me for you to sing that song to me.”

Confusion crossed his face and he shook his head. “For your parents?”

“Yes! And since we’re throwing the shields out, I lied to you, Kash.”

“About what?” he said through gritted teeth, and called my name when I turned and dashed into my room. “Damn it, woman, stop running from me!”

“I’m not running. I never told my parents about what happened to me like I promised you I would,” I mumbled as I grabbed underneath my mattress for my journal. Turning back to him, I held it up so he could see it and dropped it on the bed. “That is how I told my parents.”

His eyes were narrowed again as they bounced between the journal and me. “Why?”

“Why did I lie to you? Because you kept telling me I should tell them. And . . . well . . . technically, I did. I wrote it to them, so I guess I wasn’t exactly lying, because this”—I picked the journal back up—“is the only way I can talk to them.”

“What are you—”

“They’re gone, Kash. My parents died almost four years ago! I told you I couldn’t tell them. But I wasn’t ready for you to know why; no one in Texas other than Candice knows about it. And that’s how I like it.”

Kash’s face fell and he took a few steps closer to me. “Rach . . .”

“No, Kash. You didn’t want any more shields. Now there aren’t any. That song you sang tonight, my dad used to sing to my mom when they thought no one was watching. He would pull her close and dance with her in the kitchen while he did it, and it’s my favorite memory of them. So I’m sorry if I didn’t know how to react to you singing it to me, but that song means so much to me.”

“Rachel, I’m sorry.”

I threw my arms up and planted them on his chest so he wouldn’t come any closer. “Is this what you wanted? You know everything now. Are you happy . . . are you glad the shields are gone?”

He pulled me into his arms and held me close. “I had no idea, I’m so sorry. I—I’m just sorry. For hurting you, for pushing you to tell me, for upsetting you with the song . . . all of it. I swear to you that isn’t what I wanted.”

My anger was quickly fading and I blinked back tears. “I know, I just . . .”

“That song is special to you. I get it, Rach.” He tipped my head back and brushed his lips across my forehead before capturing my eyes with his. “You need to know—”

“Rach, I’m back!” Candice called. “Time to start this junk-food night!”

Kash didn’t let me go, and I didn’t move. We continued to stare at each other, and when we heard Candice messing with the food in the kitchen, he leaned close and whispered in my ear. “You need to know that you’re special to me. I meant every single word I sang to you tonight and I will never regret that kiss.” He quickly let me go, then walked out of my room and out of the apartment.

I was staring at my empty doorway when Candice rushed in, eyes and mouth wide. “Oh my God, he was here?!”

Nodding, I just kept staring at the space Kash had just left through and replaying his words in my head. You’re special to me. I meant every single word.

“Well are you okay, what did he say? Did you tell him?”

“Yeah.” My voice was hoarse and I had to clear my throat a few times. “I did.”

Before I could even attempt to stop them, heavy tears rolled down my cheeks and a sob tore from my chest. Candice caught me just as my legs gave out and awkwardly sat us both down. We clung to each other and cried for what felt like hours. Since my phone call to Candice early in the morning after their plane had gone down, I hadn’t actually told anyone about my parents. Dad had been well-known, so people found out in their own ways, but I’d never repeated those words again. And even Candice and her parents hardly ever brought my parents up. Eli refused to talk about them.

Most people attempt to heal from loss. They grieve and deal with the pain that comes with it, and somehow try to keep moving forward in their lives. I hadn’t done that. I’d felt like I’d died with them in that wreck, and instead of grieving and moving on, I’d shut down and built walls around me to keep the pain out and tried to act like it had never happened. Kash had been so right; he’d pegged me from the beginning. I shielded myself from the pain and in doing that pushed everyone except Candice and her family away. But no matter how hard I tried to push him, he pushed right back . . . and I wasn’t sure yet if I loved or hated him for that. Regardless, I loved that man.

Once our tears had run dry, Candice and I made our way to the kitchen, piled up our plates, and grabbed a pint of Ben and Jerry’s each before heading to the couches. Halfway through the movie, she fell asleep, so after getting her to her bed, I set about cleaning everything up and went to take a long shower. As I got ready for bed, I continuously replayed Kash’s words and the sound of his gravelly voice as he sang to me. Each time, the memory of that sound and the heated look in his eyes gave me chills, and each time I think I fell for him a little more.


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