Little Lies

by H Hunting

  River is right where I expect to find him, sitting on the couch. I don’t expect him to be drinking one of my extra-sugary coolers and watching old episodes of Vampire Diaries, but then, this has been the year of the unexpected.

  His gaze shifts away from the TV and immediately finds me. His eyes narrow as he takes in Kodiak’s proximity and our clasped hands.

  His lip curls up, and he flings out a hand. “What is this?”

  “Can you hold the meltdown for a minute? I need to get popcorn for this.” Maverick is so excited, he’s like a shaken bottle of soda, ready to explode.

  I throw an unimpressed glare his way. “Not helpful, and you are not sticking around for this. I need to have a conversation with my brother without a bunch of gawkers.”

  “Sorry. I’ll keep my mouth shut.” Maverick looks appropriately chagrined.

  “I think we need to have a talk, Lavender, in fucking private.” River’s gaze bounces between me and Kodiak, nostrils flaring.

  “I fully agree that we need to have a talk, but there are some issues we need to address, and since they revolve around Kodiak, he should be involved.”

  River slams his bottle down on the table and pushes to his feet. “You can’t be serious!”

  He storms across the room, and I step in front of Kodiak, crossing my arms. “You need to calm down.”

  “And you need to get out of my way because I’m going to kick this fucker’s ass! How are you with him? He put you through hell!” River yells.

  “So have you!” I shout back.

  “What?” River recoils as though I’ve slapped him.

  “You keep blaming Kodiak for making a mess of things when we were kids, but you were just as bad. Look at what you’re doing right now.”

  “I just wanted to keep you safe. I’m always going to want to keep you safe, especially from someone who’s hurt you time and time again.” River jabs his finger toward Kodiak. I can feel him behind me, but I don’t turn to see his reaction.

  “I love you, River, and I will always love you, but this blame game has to stop. It’s not healthy for you, or me, and all you’ll do is push me away if this animosity between you and Kodiak continues.”

  “He’s been nothing but an asshole to you all semester, and now you’re going to what, go right back to the way things were when you were kids? How is that good for you?”

  “We aren’t kids anymore, River. I’m not the same girl I was, and he’s not the same boy. We’re adults, and we’re figuring things out. Holding on to the past is going to drag us both down.”

  “Can I say something?” Kodiak asks.

  River’s angry glare lifts. “You need her permission to speak now?” he sneers.

  Kodiak sighs. “Look, River, you have every right to hate me for the way I’ve acted this semester. I was 100 percent a dick. But, in the interest of not making things more difficult, I think we need to clear the air so we can all move forward like Lavender has been trying to do pretty much her entire life.”

  “This isn’t just about this semester!” River snaps.

  “I know.”

  “You can’t do to Lavender what you did to her before. I won’t let that happen.” His gaze shifts around, wild and panicked. “I can’t watch her go through that again.”

  I consider what it must have been like for him, watching me fall apart, powerless to do anything about it, only to have Kodiak constantly come in to pick up my pieces. Until he left. The aftermath wasn’t pretty.

  “Lavender isn’t the same person, and neither am I, River. She won’t let me do that, and I would rather die than drag her down like I did back then. But you have to see that the way you’re dealing with this isn’t any better.” Kodiak gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “We all feel bad about what happened when Lavender was a kid. You and I the most, I think. And I won’t pretend to know how hard it was for you to have me always in the way, but I do know that I carried around a lot of guilt for a long time, and the way I chose to atone for it did a lot more harm than good.”

  His jaw tics, but he says nothing.

  “I haven’t let it define me, River. You can’t let it define you either. It was never your fault,” I tell him.

  River runs his hands through his hair. “I don’t know how else to be. This is all I know.” He motions to me. “It’s who I am.”

  I finally see what the real issue is. Our entire lives have been about me—my anxiety, my struggles, my fears, and if we shift the focus away, where else can River look but inside himself?

  I look him in the eyes. “Can I have a minute with River?” I say to Kodiak.

  “Of course.” Kodiak bows his head, and his lips brush my temple. “I’ll meet you upstairs.” He steps around me and pauses in front of River. “I know we don’t have a lot in common, but the person we both love happens to be integral to our lives, so I hope we can at least be civil.”

  River nods, although he’s still frowning. “I’ll work on it. But if you fuck up, I’m probably going to kick your ass.”

  “I figured.” Kodiak disappears upstairs, and Maverick claps River on the shoulder before he follows, leaving me alone with my twin.

  “So, this is really happening?” He rubs the back of his neck. “You and Kody are a thing now?”

  “We’re trying to be.” I nod to the couch, and we both drop down. I rest my head on his biceps. “This isn’t really about Kodiak, though.”

  “What?”

  “You. The protectiveness. Needing to make sure I’m okay.”

  “I’m your twin. That’s my job.”

  “But it’s not, River. Of course you’re going to want to be there for me, but I think this is more than that.”

  His gaze darts away, and his jaw flexes. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “It’s always been different for you. Maverick is like Dad, I’m like Mom, Robbie is like Gram-pot, but you’re you, and sometimes I think you’ve struggled to figure out where you fit. And if you’re not focused on me, you have to focus on you. I’d kind of hoped that my staying home last year would give you the chance to be your own person, instead of always trying to be my person. We will always be connected. You will always be the other half of me, but you need to live for you.”

  River drops his head. “Sometimes I don’t feel like I know who I am.”

  “I think that’s pretty normal at our age, but if you stop channeling all your energy into me, maybe you’ll be able to figure out you and what you want.”

  “I’m sorry I’ve made things so hard for you.”

  My heart clenches for my poor twin. Our bond is unmatched. I love him as fiercely as he loves me, but sometimes we lack balance. “It’s okay. Nothing worth fighting for should come easy. And I know it comes from a good place. You’re my trampoline, and I’m yours.”

  “Safe to fall.”

  “Always.”

  Present day

  I WAIT, SITTING on the top step outside Lavender’s door.

  She appears at the landing and gives me a small smile. “No breaking and entering this time?”

  I grin sheepishly. I could’ve picked the lock, but waiting for her seems symbolic of this new version of us. “Figured it was better if you let me into your space, considering the conversation. Everything okay with River?”

  “I think so. He’s spent so much of his life focused on me that he hasn’t looked enough at himself and what he wants. We had that year apart, which was good for both of us, but now that I’m here it’s like we’re right back where we started. He needs to figure himself out, just like we need to figure us out.”

  I nod. “I guess I never thought about it like that.” But it makes sense. “Now that you don’t need looking out for, everything has shifted.”

  “But he’ll be okay. I think he probably needed someone to tell him it’s okay to live for himself instead of everyone else.”

  She holds out her hand, her expression both expectant and the tiniest bit uncertain until I stand and thread my fingers t
hrough hers. The connection we’ve always had feels stronger than ever.

  She unlocks her door, and we slip inside. The lamp beside her sewing machine is the only light in the room and casts shadows over her face, making it hard for me to read her expression. She links our fingers again and leads me over to her bed, flicking on the light beside it, which washes the pale purple comforter in its soft glow. She turns on her stereo, and the low tones of her favorite band fill the room.

  Lavender doesn’t speak as she moves me to sit on the edge of her bed. My heart pounds, and my palms are damp. I wipe them on my thighs and part my legs as she steps into the space. Those vibrant blue eyes meet mine as she sifts her fingers through my hair. I feel the contact through my entire body, all the way to the core of my guilty, fractured soul.

  “I missed you so much,” I whisper. “It’s been hell being this close to you and still feeling like we were a million miles apart.”

  She nods and inhales a slow, steadying breath as she steps in closer, wrapping her arms around me. I mirror the movement, pulling her into me and feeling the pulse in her throat against my cheek, breathing in her familiar scent.

  Lavender traces the infinity symbol up and down the back of my neck, along my spine, and I echo the pattern between her shoulder blades. Our breathing syncs, our heartbeats find a steady rhythm, and we hold on to each other, anchors and buoys.

  I turn my face toward her, her pulse thrumming against my lips. We both make a soft, needy sound and chuckle at the same time. Lavender shifts to straddle my lap and begins the torturous process of tracing the contours of my face, her fingers, gentle and warm, skimming my lips and eyes.

  I encircle her wrist and kiss the tip of each finger and the faded scars on her palm before I place it against the side of my neck. I brush my thumb across her bottom lip, over the scar that marked a beginning and an ending we never could have predicted.

  “I want to take away every hurt I caused, but I don’t know how,” I admit.

  She cups my face between her warm palms. “You can start by erasing all the little lies with truths.”

  It’s Lavender who tips her chin up and brings my mouth to hers.

  My entire universe shifts back into alignment.

  Her lips part, and I breathe in her forgiveness as our tongues meet on a soft stroke. I catalogue this moment: the slight weight of her body in my lap, the way her breasts press against my chest, the arch in her spine, the hum of her need vibrating through me, the uneven texture of her bottom lip where the scar is, the taste of watermelon Jolly Rancher, the smell of her sheets, her lavender shampoo, and her vanilla body lotion.

  Everything about this has been inevitable—our connection a wire stretched tight to the point of snapping, but with enough strength to survive the tension. We’ve been traveling in a figure eight, passing each other until we finally got the timing right and met in the middle.

  The calm I haven’t experienced in years merges with a desire so all-consuming, it feels like I’m melting from the inside. Lavender’s hands slide under the hem of my shirt, pushing the fabric up. She breaks our kiss and tugs it over my head, then removes her shirt. Her bra is the color of her name. It’s made of satin and lace, pretty, delicate.

  She takes my hand and places it over her heart—which also means I’m palming her breast—and mirrors the action with her own hand. A small smile tips the corner of her mouth, and she whispers, “Your need is my need.”

  It breaks the heavy tension filling the space around us, but only for a few seconds, because we lean in at the same time, mouths connecting once again. I explore her curves, the dip at her waist, the swell of her breasts, and I reach between her shoulder blades to flick the clasp on her bra.

  Part of me wants to rush, to get inside her and seal the connection that’s never dissipated, no matter how hard I tried to build a wall between us. You can’t keep out what makes your heart beat in the first place. But everything about the way she touches me is unhurried, slow and gentle, and I respond in kind, stripping down until we’re bared for each other.

  She pulls the cover back, and we stretch out on her sheets, legs tangled together, hands roaming as we sink deeper into our kiss. I smooth my palm down her stomach, and she makes the softest sound when I dip between her thighs. I lift my head, eyes on hers as I circle her clit and go lower, easing a finger inside.

  Her brow pulls down, and her teeth press into her lip, so close to that scar. She places one hand against the side of my neck, and the other moves down to rest on top of mine.

  “Do you want me to stop?”

  She shakes her head.

  “Keep going?”

  “Please.”

  I curl my finger, watching as her eyes soften and her breathing grows shallow and ragged. Her nails dig into the side of my neck, little punishments I hope I get to wear tomorrow on my skin.

  Her hips lift and roll, her hand pressing hard on top of mine, urging me deeper. I kiss my way down her body and bury my face between her legs, licking up the length of her, desperate to swallow her down and have the taste of her orgasm on my tongue.

  “Oh my God!” Lavender drags in a gasping breath, and her thighs clamp against my ears as I cover her clit.

  I grip her hips to keep her from wriggling away. “Too much?”

  She nods, and her fingertips skim my cheek. “Be soft for me.”

  I nuzzle in, lapping at her, learning her body and what she likes, what takes her higher and what pulls her away from the edge. I don’t know how long I spend with my face between her thighs, but when she comes, it’s on the sweetest sigh.

  I kiss my way back up, and she wraps her legs around my waist. Pulling my mouth to hers, she makes a sound between a moan and a hmm before she breaks the kiss.

  “Do you like the way I taste?” Curiosity colors her words and her expression.

  I groan into a laugh. “Yes, Lavender, I like the way you taste. So much so that I will gladly eat you any time you want.”

  “That’s good, because I think I’m going to want you to do that a lot.” She captures my top lip between her teeth and bites gently. “I like how much softer your tongue is than my fingers. And those sounds you make, like you’re starving for me.”

  I stroke her cheek. “That’s because I have been.”

  She shifts under me and makes a needy noise in the back of her throat. “Will you be in me?”

  I drop my forehead to hers. “Do you want me to?”

  “It’s a need, not a want.”

  I don’t know why her words strip me down. “You’re sure?”

  “I’ve always been sure, Kodiak.”

  “Let me get a condom.” I reach for my discarded jeans, hoping I remembered to put one in my wallet.

  “I’m on the pill.”

  I freeze and meet her searching gaze. Questions I have no right to ask sit on my tongue.

  She arches a brow in challenge. “Unless you think it’s a bad idea.”

  “I haven’t . . . there hasn’t been—” I haven’t been with anyone since she arrived in Chicago. And I’ve always used condoms, but I don’t want to have to admit that to her and risk ruining this. “Condoms are safer,” I grind out. But even as I say it, I ease my hips back, the head of my cock sliding over her clit and going low until I’m nudging at her entrance.

  “Just this first time, then.”

  “Just this time,” I agree. I lean down to kiss her, shifting until my fingers curl around her nape so I can feel her pulse against my palm. She mirrors the movment, her breath leaving her on an unsteady exhale, the same way mine does.

  “Okay?” I ask.

  She nods, and our gazes stay locked as I ease inside, inch by inch.

  Lavender’s eyes flare, her lips forming the words oh God as my hips meet hers. Her nails dig into the back of my neck, and her knees press into my sides.

  I’m unprepared for the way it feels to be connected to her so completely. My entire body hums with foreign energy, lighting up from the inside
like a neon sign. She’s so warm and tight and wet and soft.

  “Are you okay?” I grind out.

  “Yes. Are you?” Her finger travels in a figure eight along the top of my spine.

  I have to close my eyes for a second to block out her guileless eyes and get a handle on the emotions and sensations. Sex with Lavender isn’t just physical; it’s every part of me and every part of her fusing into one.

  We’ve always been connected in ways that defy reason, and now, in this, it’s like a circuit completing. Emotions pass between us, thick with desire, electric and dangerously addicting.

  “Kodiak?” Her thumb strokes along the edge of my jaw, and I open my eyes.

  “I’m here.”

  “I know. I can feel you.” She pulls my mouth down to hers. Every point of connection is another place we’re plugged into each other. I hover in some odd state of anxious calm. The urge to shift my hips is hard to deny, but I wait until Lavender tells me she’s ready for more.

  “Show me your truth,” she whispers.

  I start to move, long strokes and a slow climb. Lavender tilts her hips, eyes locked on my face. Logic slips away, and primal desire takes hold. The need to claim and be claimed overwhelms as I move faster, go deeper, and try to get closer.

  Lavender whispers words of encouragement against my lips, more and yes and oh, right there. I slide a hand under her and fold back on my knees, taking her with me so she’s sitting in my lap and we’re chest to chest, skin slick with sweat, breath coming in quick, hard pants.

  “Do you think you can come?” I ask.

  She grips my shoulders. “Maybe? I don’t know.”

  “Help me get you there,” I beg.

  She palms the back of my neck with one hand and drops the other between her thighs. Her fingertips graze the base of my cock where we’re joined. I groan, and we both look down as she makes tight circles over her swollen clit. I stay deep, rocking her over me.

  A quiet moan bubbles up, and she contracts around me. As soon as her eyes flutter open, I grip her hips and move her, lifting and lowering, hard and fast, slamming her down on my cock as my own orgasm rockets through me—a violent power surge that turns the world black before my vision returns in a vivid, colorful burst.