Twisted Truths: The Regretful Lies Duet Book 2

by Azzi, Gina

  I have to fight my grin. “Damn, Evan. Mr. Notorious Bachelor, when did you get so smart?”

  He dismisses my joke, his eyes leveling me with their severity. “We’ve all got things we’re working on, Eli. Fix this with Zoe if you want to have the real relationship you’ve always talked about. Otherwise, let her go. And that means you move forward too.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

  “I usually am.”

  “Fuck off,” I snort and he finally cracks a smile. “How’s work?”

  Evan pushes a long exhale through his nose. “A lot right now. Got a big case starting up. I think it’s going to be a complete shitstorm.”

  I frown, waiting for him to give me more, but he shakes his head. “I don’t want to get into it now, Eli. Just, do me a favor and make things right with Zoe. Whether that’s just professional or personal too, don’t leave things the way they are.”

  Where the hell is this serious side of Evan coming from? Not that he hasn’t always had my back or best interests in mind, but he’s never outright defended a girl I’m on the outs with before.

  “Eli?”

  “Yeah, I hear you.”

  “Hey.” Harlow lets herself into my suite, pulling the untouched water from my hand and taking a long drink.

  “Is that Harlow?” Evan asks.

  I flip the phone around so he can see her. “How’s it going, Ev?” she asks.

  “Same old. I hear you’re keeping our guy in line.”

  “Always.”

  Evan chuckles as I flip Harlow my middle finger. She grins.

  “Okay, guys. I’m signing off. Billable hours are calling my name.”

  “Get to it, slacker,” Harlow says, waving goodbye.

  “Later, Ev.” I click off, then flip my chin at Harlow. “What’re you doing now?”

  She holds up my water.

  “Want to blow off some steam? Drinks and good grub?” I ask, desperate to get out of my suite.

  Harlow smiles, placing the bottle on the countertop. “Yes. Yes, I do. I know just the place.”

  I pull a clean T-shirt from the back of a barstool, slip it over my head, and pull on a baseball cap. “Lead on, Harlow. I need a night off from my life.”

  “Ah, stop your whining,” she tosses over her shoulder as I follow her into the elevator and as far away from set as I can get.

  9

  Zoe

  “Did you see that scene today?” I ask Laurence as I bite into a chip piled high with guac.

  On the other side of the bar, my favorite bartender-turned-friend sighs as he mixes me a colorful beverage that packs quite the punch. Umbrella included.

  “He’s an actor, mon amie.” Laurence places a glass in front of me. “It’s his job.”

  “That seemed like more than acting,” I retort, taking a large gulp. “This is good.”

  “It’s strong.”

  “I need strong.”

  “You need sleep.” Laurence offers me a smile.

  Since confiding in him about my diagnosis over a week ago, we’ve been hanging out every day. It’s easy for me to pop by the restaurant for a bite or invite him to the hotel for a swim to eat up some of the long hours with endless thoughts about my future, about my life, about Eli.

  But he’s right, I’ve barely slept in the past week. Too stressed, too restless, too fearful, my nights are now filled with solitaire and Charlie’s rom-com recommendations on Netflix.

  “If it’s meant to be, it will happen,” Laurence offers his sage advice, swiping a chip and dunking it in guacamole before popping it into his mouth. “Right now, you need to focus on your health.” He fixes me with a stern glance.

  Instead of answering him, I take another long sip of my drink.

  “How’re you holding up, Zoe? For real.”

  “Okay.” I know he’s asking about my test results and the preventative elective surgeries I’m reading up on. He’s not inquiring about how much watching Eli devour Brooke in the most sensual way possible on set today was like death by a million cuts. Or how when Natalie smiles at him after a workout session, my heart lodges itself in my throat until I can’t swallow. Or that the way he ignores me, only offering one-word responses to my questions, causes my stomach to twist so painfully, I can’t eat afterwards.

  “Zoe.”

  “Really, I’m okay. Not great, not awful. But okay.”

  “Any word from your doctor?”

  “I’m still reading all the info she sent about preventative mastectomies and oophorectomies.” I smile at Laurence, grateful for his concern. Then, I pick up the pretty drink he made me and suck most of its contents through the neon straw, chasing the buzz that will numb my mind.

  Laurence sighs, taking my almost-empty glass from my hand and placing it on the bar. Loosely linking his fingers with mine, he dips his face until I’m forced to meet his eyes. They are dark, filled with a quiet strength I wish I had the courage to draw from. “I know it’s a lot, Zoe. I know it seems overwhelming and like you’re all alone in this. But if you want to talk about anything, ever, you know I’m here, right?”

  I stare at him, studying the planes of his face, the slope of his cheekbones, the curve of his mouth. How the hell is he still single? Especially on an island?

  “Zoe?” Laurence rattles our joined hands until I nod.

  “Thanks, Laurence. I—”

  “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” Eli’s snarl interrupts my sentence. My head snaps to him, and I drop Laurence’s hand even though I wasn’t doing anything wrong.

  “Hey Eli,” Laurence says, his voice even, his expression neutral. “Harlow.”

  I look behind Eli until Harlow’s face comes into view. She shoots me an apologetic glance.

  “We were just going to grab a drink,” she hurries to explain.

  “Yeah, to get away from all the shit on set. But then, here you guys are,” Eli’s tone is hard, his eyes even harder as they bore into mine. His jaw clicks closed, his lips pressed together.

  Laurence tilts his head to the far end of the bar. “Harlow, do you have a moment? I wanted to run a new drink I’m concocting by someone.”

  “Ooh, sure. I’d love to be the official taste tester,” Harlow agrees easily. Too easily.

  Closing my eyes, I reach for my drink and slurp up the remainder of its contents.

  “Never took you for a lush,” Eli pulls the empty glass from my hand and plops down on the barstool next to mine.

  “Never took you for jealous,” I shoot back, grateful for the liquid courage I just consumed. Hopefully, it will kick in soon.

  Eli dips a chip into the guacamole and shoves it into his mouth. “You’re the one who left set today.”

  Damn him. And damn the unbidden passionate images of him and Brooke touching, kissing, being that rush my mind.

  My throat burns as I recall the way he looked at her. Even from thirty feet away, I could see the softness in his expression, the tenderness shadowing his eyes. He was sucked into her orbit with the same intensity that I fell into his.

  Without even realizing it, I press the heel of my hand into my chest and Eli’s head turns toward me, his eyes zeroing in on the movement.

  “You’re right,” I admit, my voice too low, too throaty.

  Surprise colors his irises, lightening them even though his jaw ticks with frustration.

  “What’s going on between you and Laurence?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Yeah, right,” Eli snorts, swiveling on the barstool until his knee taps against mine. “You were holding his hand.”

  “He’s my friend.”

  “I don’t ever remember holding Harlow’s hand.”

  I shrug, closing my eyes as the first tendrils of numbness wrap around me. Relieved, I sink into the protection my buzz provides. “He’s just helping me through something.”

  Eli grunts, grabbing another chip. The veins in his forearms bulge as he rests his elbows on the bar, his hands tightening into fists.
“Did you fuck him?” he barks out, facing me again. His eyes flash, almost violent in their intensity even though his voice is low. So low, in fact, I’m convinced I heard him wrong.

  “Excuse me?” I draw out the words, staring at him like he lost his mind.

  “Did you and Laurence fuck?” he repeats, his eyes wild, like he could snap at any moment.

  “Nothing as intense as that exchange with Brooke today,” I challenge back, leaning closer.

  Eli sneers, his body wound tight. His foot shifts to the rung of my barstool, his knee separating mine. I can feel his skin through the material of his jeans, hot and burning. The toe of his sneaker taps out a beat against the rung and the vibrations hum through me. Awareness skyrockets, and the air between us shrinks.

  “I was doing my job. Answer me, Violet.” His voice is strangled, his eyes almost reckless with need. The need to know my answer or the need to claim me once more is debatable, but satisfaction rocks through me.

  I can still do this to him. Bring him to the brink of his sanity. Make him feel too much, so much it could devastate us both.

  My arm slips and I reach out to catch myself, my hand planting on his hard thigh. His muscles tighten under my touch and a hiss leaves his lips. “I didn’t sleep with Laurence.”

  Some of the tension eases from his shoulders. He sighs, clearly relieved. “There’s nothing going on between me and Brooke. Or me and Natalie.”

  I stare at him, grasp onto the truth flaring in his eyes, cling to the vulnerability threaded in his voice.

  “Why do you drop everything whenever she snaps her fingers?” I whisper.

  Eli sighs, his tongue darting out to hit the center of his bottom lip. My own mouth waters. I can’t tear my gaze from his lips, and the memory of them trailing over my skin, nibbling on the most intimate parts of my body.

  “I shouldn’t. It’s wrong of me. But Natalie and I have a complicated history. After the abortion, she fell into a depression. One she chased away with liquor. Partying. I couldn’t turn my back on her, regardless of how hurt I was. But now she’s with Gray—”

  “It’s his baby?” I ask, even though that makes sense. They very recently divorced.

  “Yeah, they’re working things out.”

  “That’s good.”

  “I swear to you, Violet, nothing happened between us since we broke up almost five years ago. Nothing,” he repeats, his hand covering mine, grinding my fingers into his thigh.

  A whimper sounds between us. I realize with a shock that it’s from me. Whimpering for his touch like a wanton woman.

  Eli’s breath hitches and I shift on the barstool, my thighs tightening as a need stronger than my own dignity rolls through my body like a tsunami.

  “I miss you, baby.” He dips his head closer, his words a caress against the shell of my ear. “I miss you so goddamn much.”

  “I just, I don’t—”

  “Why are you thinking so hard?” He presses a kiss to the underside of my jaw. I turn my head to the side a fraction, but the movement answers his unasked questions.

  I want more. I want him. Right now.

  Always.

  “Come on, let’s get out of here,” he urges, his knee inching up higher between my legs, the rough material of his jeans dragging so slowly up my skin that my core aches for the contact. For the friction. For the relief I know he’ll provide.

  My buzz heightens, alcohol numbing my reason and letting my emotions out of the cage in which I’ve locked them. Like Pandora’s box, if I take the next step with Eli, I risk wreaking havoc on his life.

  But I’m too needy, too curious, too damn selfish to care in this moment.

  “Eli.” His name is a plea on my lips, but he hears my desperation.

  “Let me take care of you, Violet. Please.” I hear him pull a wad of bills from his pocket and drop them on the bar.

  In my periphery, I catch sight of Laurence but don’t make eye contact, too ashamed of my actions. Too embarrassed by how badly I want, no, need Eli in this moment.

  I scan the bar for Harlow, but she’s nowhere to be found.

  “Harlow left about ten minutes ago,” Eli explains, pulling back and scanning my face. “Come home with me?”

  I nod, sliding off the barstool and letting Eli wrap his arm around my waist. I snuggle closer into his side, his scent washing over me.

  Leaving the bar in his arms, I remember how weeks earlier, he screwed me senseless up against an alleyway wall. How I gave myself to him in pieces and felt whole in the aftermath, glued together by his strength, invigorated by his admiration.

  His hand tightens on my hip and I sigh.

  Being with Eli feels like a homecoming.

  Even though I don’t deserve it.

  10

  Eli

  Her skin is soft under my palm and my fingertips sink into her warmth. I guide her into the back of a waiting car I arranged ahead of time for Harlow and me. Now, with my thigh pressed against Zoe’s and the scent of coconut perfuming the air, I’m relieved to have had the foresight even though I never imagined to be lucky enough to leave the bar with Zoe under my arm.

  The passionate haze from minutes earlier has softened into a comfortable silence.

  Her fingers slip through mine, easily lacing our palms together until they touch, kissing.

  “Violet,” I warn as her eyes dart to the driver, the corner of her mouth turning up into a mischievous smile.

  God, she’s beautiful.

  Her eyes, amber with threads of molasses and flecks of sage, are hypnotizing. Shining with emotions too deep to decipher, her smile spreads and I find myself grinning back.

  Her lips are full, her smile bright, her face serene.

  A pang thuds in my chest, dull but constant as I realize how stupid I was to ever think I could carry on without her in my life.

  “Zoe, I—”

  She shakes her head, cutting me off. “Now who’s thinking too hard?”

  I drop my head to press a kiss to her temple and she sighs, leaning into me. “I wish it could always be like this.”

  “It can.”

  “No.” Her voice is wistful, forlorn in a way I don’t understand.

  “I know it seems crazy, daunting even, to try and make a relationship work once we’re back in reality. But we can do it, baby. I know we can.”

  “Eli, promise me no matter what happens, you won’t hate me.” She glances up, her eyes pleading, her voice hopeful.

  “I could never hate you. Why would you even think that?”

  “Um, do you even recognize the way you’ve been acting toward me? One-word answers, brushing me off, ignoring me.”

  I sigh. Do I tell her the truth? Do I let her in one more time, even after the way she shut me out?

  “You hurt me, Zoe. You hurt me a lot and I still don’t understand why. What happened?” I press her, desperate to know what the hell went wrong when things seemed to be going right.

  She shrugs, turning to glance out the window. “We don’t want the same things, Eli. I’ve been upfront with you from the beginning. I just… I don’t want you to hate me. Just promise me.”

  “I promise.”

  She closes her eyes again, resting against me while we drive in silence to the hotel.

  Once we arrive, I gently tug her from the backseat of the car. “Do you want to grab a drink or—”

  “I just want to be with you. For tonight, can we just…be?” she asks, threading her arm through mine and navigating us toward her room.

  “We can just be for as many nights as you want, babe. Are you sure you don’t want to go to my room?”

  “I’m closer,” she smirks, tapping her key card against the lock. When the green light flashes, she presses inside and I slip in behind her.

  She turns, dropping her purse to the floor and kicking off her sandals. Stepping back a few paces, a wariness ripples over her expression and her eyes widen, vulnerability shimmering in their depths.

  “It’s just
me, babe. We don’t have to do anything,” I assure her, toeing off my sneakers. I cross my arms over my chest, lean back against the closed door, and study Zoe.

  Now that some of the energy and lively atmosphere of the pub has disappeared, she seems less confident than she was an hour ago. She’s more on guard, more reserved. I don’t fucking like it. “Why won’t you let me in?”

  “I don’t want to talk,” she murmurs, indecision heavy in the dip of her brow, in the purse of her lips. “I don’t want to talk or think or plan. I just want—I want…”

  “Tell me. I’ll give you anything, absolutely anything you desire.” I push off the door, dropping my hands to my sides so I can grasp her hips. “You’re torturing me, Violet. Hot, then cold, then indecisive. I don’t know which way is up with you, and you’re driving me crazy.” I hate that my resolve crumbles so quickly in her presence and yet, I hang on for her answer all the same.

  “I just want you,” she finally says, surprise coloring her tone. “I want you, Eli. But I don’t think I can keep you.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? I’ve given myself to you and—”

  She falls against my chest, her fingers clenching my shoulders, using them as leverage to reach my lips. Her mouth is soft and pliable, cutting off my words, halting my thoughts. Her chest presses against mine as I inhale her vulnerability and she swallows my uncertainty. I lift her into my arms and she wraps her legs around me, trailing kisses down my neck, her fingers gripping the collar of my T-shirt.

  My heart pounds as I hold her against me, drowning in a million sensations.

  Her skin is smooth, her body pulsing with a heat I want to absorb into my skin. My hands track her back, one palm lowering to caress her ass cheek. I squeeze the flesh and she hitches higher in my hold, grinding against me.