The Truth in Lies (The Truth in Lies Saga)

by McDonald, Jeanne

  Drew nudged me, as he slid past me into the bedroom. “This looks good. You went with curtains on the door instead of blinds.” He pointed toward my billowy blue-gray curtains streaming over the patio door.

  “Yeah. I like the way they flow.”

  He meandered over to the doors, running his fingers over the silky fabric of my drapes. “Soothing,” he whispered. Moving to the center of the room, his hand landed on the foot of my pillow-top bed. He pressed down. “This is very soft. I bet you sleep great on this mattress.”

  “Sleep rarely is my friend, but it’s very cozy.” I shifted my weight uncomfortably.

  Disappointment reflected in Drew’s eyes. “Sleep isn’t my friend either,” he admitted. He swallowed hard, but continued his exploration of my room. His fingers glided over the gray duvet. “I bet the comforter is warm at night.”

  He glanced over to me, as he sat down on the end of my bed. He extended his arms back, angling his body over my mattress.

  “Um, yeah,” I squeaked. “I usually kick it off though. I get hot at night.”

  “Me too. I’ve been known to sleep with a fan directly on me because I overheat.”

  “I bet Liv hates that. She freezes at night.”

  “Just one of many things she hates,” Drew muttered.

  Not sure that I heard him right, I asked, “Come again?”

  “Nothing.”

  The room fell silent. I didn’t have any idea what to say. Drew stood up from the bed moving toward me. Thinking the tour was over; I stepped backward toward the door. Having misjudged my distance, my back rammed into the corner of my dresser, eliciting a painful cry.

  “You okay?” Drew asked; his tone filled with worry.

  “I’m fine. I’m fine,” I winced. The pointed edge had hit my spine sending a sharp pain up my back.

  In two short strides, Drew was in front of me. His hands snaked around my back feeling along my spine. He massaged the area that had made contact with the dresser. But instead of feeling immense pain, all I felt was intense warmth flowing through my body.

  “Does this hurt?” he rasped, his voice heady and wanton.

  My eyes were locked on his, as his fingers continued to explore my back. Barely breathing, I shook my head. I didn’t trust my voice. His hand ran down my spine, stopping only above my backside. He leaned forward closing the gap between us. His tender touch made my head feel fuzzy. My mouth was dry, but my body felt like a puddle.

  He glanced in the mirror behind me in effort to get a better look at my potential injury. Tilting his head sideways, he lifted my shirt away from my skin. “You have a tattoo? You never told me you had a tattoo!”

  The spell was broken.

  Laughing at his boyish expression, I pushed him away just enough to turn around and give him a better view. I lifted my shirt just enough to expose the bright red phoenix with green, yellow, and blue lining the tips of its wings, combusting into flames. “I got it on my thirtieth birthday.”

  His fingers brushed over the ink, sending delicious shivers up my spine. “It’s beautiful. What does it symbolize?”

  Pink flushed my face at the ease in which he touched me. “Rebirth and change.”

  “Rebirth and change,” he repeated; his timbre soft and tender.

  I pulled my shirt back down over my tattoo. “C’mon, let’s get out of here,” I suggested. I scooted past him, moving toward the door. Putting some distance between us allowed me to breathe again.

  Drew sighed in resignation as I escaped him. I heard him swallow thickly, and felt his eyes piercing my back as he followed me out of the bedroom. We plopped down on the couch, falling into each other.

  “Have you hooked up the PS3 yet?” he asked

  I turned my head and studied him for a moment. Once again that boyish charm that I’d grown to adore in him was there. Realizing I was looking at him, he twisted his neck. A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips, but the crinkles that I had grown to love didn’t form around the corners of his eyes. He seemed upset, but I couldn’t understand why.

  “Yeah. I had that done the first night I was here. Whatcha in the mood to play?”

  I slipped off the couch onto my knees. My apartment was small enough that I could crawl over to the entertainment center. I pressed the power button on the game station.

  “I do believe a rematch in Mortal Kombat is in order,” he suggested.

  By nature, I’m not a competitive person. But like anyone else, I don’t like to lose. One of the things I’ve always enjoyed was a great video game. When Nate and I first started dating, he took me to an arcade. I believe he thought he could make himself look macho by showing me how to play. He was wrong.

  He introduced me to a game called Gauntlet. The graphics were outdated, but the quests captured my attention. With that being said, I kind of kicked his ass. He always said it was beginner’s luck, but the funny thing was, he rarely played against me after that.

  It was then that I fell in love with the world of gaming.

  Sometime later, I discovered a PC game called Diablo. I stayed up for five nights straight determined to beat the big boss, Diablo, himself. Nate got so aggravated with me that I had to start limiting myself with video games. It was too easy for me to get lost in the fantasy of it all.

  Now that I was out on my own, I could play anytime I liked, and I loved it. The fact that Drew enjoyed playing with me was an added bonus.

  I tossed him a controller and set up the game. “No cheating this time,” he threatened me.

  My body landed beside his on the sofa. I nudged him in the ribcage with my elbow. “I never cheat. I’m just masterfully skilled.”

  Drew’s throaty laugh warmed me. “Train me, my master,” he goaded.

  “Train you, I will,” I gurgled in my best Yoda voice.

  We selected our favorite players and the match began.

  As much as I hated to lose, Drew hated it more. He pushed himself to the edge of the cushion, his focus trained on the game. A flick of the wrist turned into full body motion. He grunted and groaned as his torso twisted and turned, in an attempt to coax his player into the position he wanted.

  A blow to the head sent my character to the ground. Kicking my feet in frustration, I screamed, “C’mon!”

  “Who’s training who now,” Drew snickered.

  “Let’s see about that.” A few quick strikes of the buttons and my avatar had multiplied, and surrounded Drew’s fighter, leaving him with no escape.

  “No!” he screamed out in frustration.

  “Booyah!” I threw my fist into the air and cheered.

  Drew dropped the controller onto the coffee table and turned to me. “I told you no cheating.”

  My head bobbed as I spoke. “Excuse me. That wasn’t cheating. That was schooling you on how to play the game.”

  “I assume you want a rematch, so you can kick my ass again?” he grumbled.

  I laid my controller beside me then crossed my arms over my chest. “You know what happens when you assume, don’t you?”

  Drew’s face scrunched up in thought. “Enlighten me.”

  With a straight face I replied, “You make an ass out of you and me.”

  Drew’s mouth dropped in mock horror. “You just called me an ass. You beat me and then call me an ass.” A mischievous grin appeared on his face. “Oh, you’re so about to pay for that.”

  He leaned forward on his hands, one knee placed on the sofa into a near crouching position. His back arched high, lifting his t-shirt up to expose his succulent muscled stomach as he moved toward me. “Andy, whatever you’re thinking, stop thinking it,” I warned him, scooting away from him.

  “What are you afraid of, Mickie?”

  He dropped his flip-flops onto the floor, his eyes wild and playful. He inched forward, placing both knees on the couch. I pushed myself up against the arm of the sofa, holding my knees to my chest.

  “Really, Andy, stop it now,” I screeched in a high pitch shrill.

 
Drew lunged for me, catching me by the leg. Dragging me underneath him, he pressed his body against mine, holding me in place. I flattened my hands against his shoulders pushing him as hard as I could, breathless by the amount of weight he was enforcing on me. Without warning his fingers made contact with my sides. I squirmed against his ministrations as he started to tickle me.

  “Andy…no…stop…please,” my words came out as mere breaths.

  Drew encircled my legs with his, holding them to the surface of the cushions. With one hand he tied my hands above my head while his other continued to torture my ribs. I was his prisoner; unable to disentangle myself from his prowess.

  “I never lose, and if I somehow do, I always get my justice,” he whispered huskily in my ear.

  I wiggled and squirmed, squealing in laughter. With each movement of my body my shirt would rise, but so would his. Our bare skin pressed against each other as perspiration began to build. Electricity crackled around the room. Our breathing became heavier and deeper. His hand reached between my knees, tickling inside my leg. I bucked and kicked in efforts to escape his relentless torture.

  “Andy, please,” I pleaded.

  The atmosphere in the room shifted. What was playful banter had changed into heady desire. He released my hands, and brushed my hair back from my face.

  Every nerve in my body felt where our skin met. My hands slipped between us, pressing against his sculpted chest. His heart raced against my fingertips.

  His hand slid over my hip leaving a trail of heat in its wake. “Mickie,” he whispered my name like a sincere prayer.

  A deep moan escaped my lungs as his fingers glided over my ribcage. The thin fabric of my tank top wasn’t enough to eliminate the heat of his hand from penetrating my burning skin.

  His eyes fluttered closed. A throaty groan rumbled from his chest. His thumb breezed along the curve of my breast. I shivered in excitement. The pressure of his weight burrowed down on me.

  Every ripple of his stomach, the firmness of his arms, the muscles in his legs, they all encompassed me. His eyes open and a tender smile caressed his lips. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.

  I was intoxicated with the smell of his breath washing over my face. I closed my eyes in anticipation of our lips touching. His hand reached up and cupped the side of my face. His fingers crowned the back of my head, pulling me closer to him.

  I could feel the effects of his kiss even before his lips touched mine. But they never had the chance to meet. A knock at the door stopped us.

  Drew pulled back, his face was flushed, and his tongue swiped over his lips hungrily. The beat of my heart thundered in my ears, as I lifted my head and glanced toward the door.

  “Does no one believe in a telephone anymore?” I grumbled in aggravation.

  Drew chuckled, brushing the hair from my face. “You better answer that.” He lifted himself off me. The loss of contact crumbled me on the inside. I wanted to tell whoever was at the door to go away.

  I remained where he left me, willing the people at the door to go away. My arms crossed tight over my chest; I stared at the door producing the evilest of glares I could muster. Drew laughed at my childish petulance. He leaned back into the sofa, trailing his fingers along my leg. The smoldering fire was gone from his eyes. In its place was warmth and tenderness.

  Whoever was at the door was adamant about getting in. They started to knock persistently.

  “Do you want me to get that?” he asked.

  I sighed, cursing the person at my door.

  “No, I got it.”

  I bounded off the couch in a huff, and marched to the door, throwing it open. There stood my parents with great big smiles on their faces and suitcases at their feet. “Surprise,” my mother’s voice rang with arms wide open.

  My shoulders sank forward in shock and frustration. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I grumbled, banging my head on the door with a thud.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Memories of being a teenager came rushing to the forefront of my mind. All I could envision was my parents finding my sixteen-year-old self, making out with Gage Lawson. My mother was pretty calm about it, but my father – well, let’s just say, I still have nightmares about his reaction.

  I plastered on what I prayed looked like my best smile, hoping to mask the shock of seeing my parents. “Mom! Dad! What are you doing here?”

  “Mickie!” My father pulled me into a warm embrace. The smell of motor oil and aftershave invaded my senses. I always loved the way my father smelled. He was probably the hardest working man I’d ever met.

  William Evans was the proud owner of an auto body shop in Amarillo, Texas. He and my mother opened Evans Bodyworks a year before I was born. It took every ounce of their savings to start their own business. I never realized how much they financially struggled throughout my childhood. They kept that well hidden; but through it all, they made a successful business and managed to give me a great life.

  “Hey, Daddy.” I giggled, wrapping my arms around his neck.

  He was wearing a pair of denim shorts with a Hawaiian shirt that had blue palm trees cascaded across the material. The silky fabric clung to his protruding belly. He covered his thinning taupe-colored hair with a Texas Rangers baseball cap. All in all, he was the true definition of a Florida tourist.

  Next to him stood the most beautiful woman in the world; my mother, Lindsey. Her blonde hair was peppered with gray, and her hazel blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight. My mother was shorter than me, which wasn’t saying much since I was only five feet two inches tall. She was a little heavier than I, but who wouldn’t be after popping a kid out. She wore a t-shirt that was too big for her with the words ‘Everything’s bigger in Texas,’ splayed over her chest.

  My mother studied me for a moment. Her smile vanished. “You’re not happy to see us.”

  Riddled with guilt that only a mother could bestow, I hugged her tight. “Of course I’m happy to see you. Surprised…but happy.”

  “That’s the point. We wanted to surprise our little Mickie on her birthday. Bet you thought we forgot,” my father quipped.

  “The thought never crossed my mind,” I answered. I wrapped my arm around my mother’s waist. “C’mon in.”

  Dad picked up both of their suitcases and carted them in behind us. “I hope you don’t mind us being here. Remember, we discussed us coming out here for spring break,” my mother rambled.

  We came to a full stop the instant Mom noticed Drew. He was standing in front of my couch, the pillar of perfection. His smile was bright and inviting, meeting his eyes the way I adored.

  “And who is this?” Mom’s southern drawl thickened to a point that even I noticed.

  Dad dropped the luggage on the floor and moved around to see who my mother was talking about.

  I extended my hand out toward him. “Mom, Dad, this is Andrew Wise. Drew, these are my parents, Bill and Lindsey Evans.”

  “So this is Drew?” Mom sang. Her eyes darted from Drew to me and then back to Drew. “You weren’t kidding, sweetheart. He is a hottie.”

  “Mom,” I hissed.

  Every shade of red known to man had to be on display across my face with the amount of heat pulsing under my cheeks. Drew honed in on me, his lips twitching into a sinful grin, as his eyes danced in the delight of my embarrassment.

  She turned to Dad pursing her lips into a notable grin. “Bill, I think we interrupted something here.”

  I covered my face, humiliated. “Oh, Jesus. This is worse than high school.”

  “Interrupted what?” Dad demanded.

  “Nothing, Dad.”

  Drew’s eyes narrowed in concentration on me. “What happened in high school?”

  “Nothing,” I squelched. “God, this is a nightmare.”

  Drew’s tongue darted out over his ripe red lips, as a tiny chuckle slipped past them.

  My mother moved away from me, offering her hand to Drew. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Drew.”

  Dr
ew politely accepted my mother’s extended hand. “The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Evans.”

  “Please, call me Lindsey,” she giggled.

  Dad stepped forward offering Drew his hand. “Bill Evans,” he grunted, giving Drew the once over.

  Drew didn’t appear uncomfortable at all. He gripped my father’s hand firmly. “It’s nice to meet you, sir. Your daughter speaks very highly of you.”

  “And you’re the lawyer fella she talks about all the time?”

  “Dad!” I yelled. There had to be a hole I could climb into to escape this nightmare.

  A huge grin caressed Drew’s cheeks. “It appears I am.”

  Dad ignored Drew’s response, wrapping his arm around Mom’s shoulder. “You don’t look like a lawyer,” he noted with a cheeky grin.

  “I assure you, sir, I’m a bar certified attorney.”

  “Community college lawyer,” my dad jibed.

  Never in my life had I wished for the apocalypse to take place as I did in that moment. My mother was making googly eyes at Drew and my father was sizing him up. This was pretty much my worst nightmare coming to life.

  “Harvard alumni.”

  Dad’s cocky smirk disappeared. “Harvard. Impressive. So, I’m sure you could afford to get my little girl something special for her birthday then.”

  Mom jabbed Dad in the ribcage. “Stop being so rude.”

  Drew snapped his fingers and smiled. “Thank you for reminding me, Mr. Evans. That was my whole purpose for stopping by today.” Drew thrust his hand into his pocket. He pulled out a tiny box, wrapped in silver paper, and handed it to me. “I wanted to do more, but I didn’t know what you might want. I hope you like it. Happy birthday, Mickie.”

  Tears filled my eyes, as I took the box from him. “Thank you,” I whispered. “You didn’t have to get my anything.” It came as no surprise to me that he knew when my birthday was. He had seen my license enough times while we were apartment hunting, and I was sure Olivia moaned about my disinterest in a party.

  Drew shoved his hands back into his pockets. A tiny smile flickered over his lips, as our eyes met. “But I wanted to.”