First Lie Wins(2)

I mean, it’s amusing to believe one person would go to those lengths just to meet another.



* * *





“I totally nailed it,” I say, as I dip the last dinner plate into the sink full of soapy water. Ryan moves in behind me, his arms skimming my hips until they are wrapped around my waist. His chin settles on my shoulder, and his lips press against that spot on my neck in a way he knows I adore.

“They loved you,” he whispers.

They don’t love me. At most, I satisfied the first wave of curiosity. And I imagine before the first car left the driveway, every woman was in the passenger seat swiping between the group text message picking apart every aspect of the night and the search bar on every social media site trying to track down exactly who I am and what small town in Alabama I came from.

“Ray just sent me a text. Sara wants your number so she can invite you to lunch next week.”

That was faster than I anticipated. I guess the second wave of curiosity is barreling toward me, fueled by the discovery that all searches turned up just the bare minimum of information, and they are hungry for more.

“I sent it to him. Hope that’s okay,” he says.

I twist around until I’m facing him, my hands crawling up his chest until they’re framing his face. “Of course. They’re your friends. And I hope they’ll be my friends too.”

So now there will be a lunch where the questions will be more direct, because Ryan won’t be there to make sure they aren’t.

Standing on my tiptoes, I pull him closer, until my mouth is mere inches from his. We both love this part, the anticipation, when breaths mingle and my brown eyes stare into his blue ones. We’re close but not close enough. His hands slip under the hem on my shirt, his fingers digging into the soft skin at my waist while mine slide up the back of his neck, my fingers curling into his dark hair. Ryan’s hair is longer than it was when we first met, when I first started watching him. I told him I liked it like this. That I liked having something to hold on to, so he stopped cutting it. I could tell his friends were surprised when they saw him, because from my own social media research, his hair has never touched his collar. And then they looked to me, and I could see their questions. Why has Ryan changed? And is it because of this girl?

He drags his hands lower, gripping my thighs under my short skirt and pulling me up so my legs can wrap around him.

“Will you stay?” he whispers, even though we’re the only two people in the house. He asks me this question every night.

“Yes,” I whisper back. My answer is always the same.

Ryan’s mouth hovers over mine but still maintains a sliver of space between us. I lose focus on his face. Even though he’s killing me, I wait for him to close the distance between us.

“I don’t want to ask anymore. I want to know you’ll be here every night because it’s your home too. Will you do that? Make this your home?”

I dig my fingers deeper into his hair and lock my legs tighter around him. “I thought you’d never ask.”

I feel his smile against my lips, and he’s kissing me then carrying me through the kitchen, down the hall to the bedroom.

Our bedroom.





Chapter 2


Ever since Ryan asked me to move in with him five days ago and I said yes, he’s been impatient for it to happen. I woke up the morning after the dinner party to him on the phone with a moving company, scheduling their services for later that day, thanks to a last-minute cancellation.

I convinced him to wait, even if it was just for a week, to make sure this was really what he wanted and not just something he said after an evening of expensive wine and perfectly cooked beef tenderloin. Plus, I mentioned he was getting a little ahead of himself by calling the movers when I haven’t packed anything yet.

“If you didn’t really want to move in with me, you’d tell me, right?” Ryan is standing in front of the bathroom mirror, knotting a dark blue and gray striped tie, and trying to act like he’s asked me some insignificant thing. He’s pouting. Something I’ve seen before when he doesn’t get his way.

I hop up on the counter and scoot down the white marble surface until I’m sitting right in front of him. He looks over my shoulder as if he can still watch his progress in the mirror behind me. He’s being a little bit of a baby this morning.

I’ve memorized his face, but I still study it every chance I get, looking for any small piece I may have missed. He’s attractive in a classic way. His dark hair is thick and tends to curl at the edges when it gets too long, as it is now. His blue eyes are striking, and even though he just shaved I know by the time I see him tonight his jaw will be shadowed and I’ll get goose bumps when it grazes my neck.

Brushing his hands away, I finish tying the tie for him. “Of course I want to move in here. Where’s this coming from?”

Ryan looks down at the tie, straightening it even though it’s already straight but needing something to do. He hasn’t touched me this morning and barely looked at me. Yep, total baby.

Since he hasn’t answered me, I add, “Have you changed your mind about me being here? I know you think I’ve been avoiding packing, but I’ve set aside the entire day today to get it done, and Goodwill is coming by to pick up everything I don’t need anymore. But I can call them and cancel . . .”