Epic Lies (Epic Fail Book 2)

by Trudy Stiles

  “Me either,” he quickly replies. “Do you want to do something together?”

  I look at him, and he looks terrified of what my answer may be. “I guess? What do you have in mind?” I ask, putting him on the spot.

  “There are some movies playing in the Student Center. We can check that out.”

  “That sounds great,” I say, and he’s already on his feet. He reaches out to grab my hands and pulls me up, so our noses are practically touching.

  He drops my hands abruptly and smiles nervously. “Sorry,” he says and backs away from me.

  I’m comforted by the fact that he doesn’t seem like a jerk, and he’s nervous about being close to me. That tells me he’s not a man-whore just looking to get in my pants. At least, that’s what I hope.

  We make small talk on the way to the Student Center. I find out that he’s an only child, and he inherited two Siamese cats, when his grandmother died two years ago, named Milo and Agnes. He loves to play Yahtzee and is the reigning Jenga champion in his house. He’s very proud of this fact, considering his father is a surgeon and has the steadiest hands he knows. He plays guitar and loves alternative music.

  “And holy shit, this is my absolute favorite movie,” he says as we walk into the Student Center, and Spaceballs is being projected onto the wall.

  “No. Way.” I say, practically squealing. “I freaking love this movie!”

  He grabs my hand and pulls me to a double lounge chair that looks to be the only one vacant in the whole place. I relax in his grip as we weave through other students. We fall onto the lounge, and I try to stifle a laugh. “Eagle eyes,” I say as I recline.

  He does the same, and our shoulders are slightly touching. We’ve only missed the opening credits, so we made it just in time. As I sink further into the lounge, I realize he’s still holding my hand. I wiggle my fingers a little bit, and he jerks his hand away. “I’m sorry,” he whispers into my ear, causing me to shiver slightly.

  “It’s okay. I didn’t want you to have to feel my hands get warm and sweaty.” Oh my God, what am I saying?

  He chuckles, causing his shoulder to move against mine. I’m comfortable with him. This is good.

  By the end of the movie, we’re both wailing, tears of laughter streaming down our faces. “May the shwartz be with you…” I burst out laughing, and Derek does the same. We can’t catch our breath, remembering the wackiness that ensues in Spaceballs.

  The lights come on briefly as one of the students stands in front of the room with a small microphone. “In five minutes, our double feature will continue. The next movie is The Princess Bride. We hope you can all stay with us. Refreshments are along the wall. Help yourselves!”

  Derek turns to me, “Are you up for a double feature?”

  “I could never say no to The Princess Bride,” I say.

  His smile is huge. “I’ll go get us a couple of drinks and some popcorn. Any special requests?”

  “Light salt, no butter, a water, and lots of napkins.”

  “Coming right up,” he says, jogging over to the refreshment stands.

  He comes back to our lounge just before the lights are turned off again. “Just in time,” I whisper, accidentally brushing my lips against his ear. A smile spreads across his cheeks, and his ears turn red. “Sorry,” I say, facing forward.

  He holds the popcorn out nervously, and I dig in.

  For the first hour of the movie, I’m fully aware of his proximity to me. Our shoulders still touching, hips barely an inch apart, and our breathing in sync. We’ve bumped fingers and knuckles together at least a dozen times when reaching into the bucket of popcorn. Every single movement sends nervous shivers throughout my body, causing me to blush on more than one occasion. I realize that I’m not nervous around him at all. I’m surprisingly comfortable. I like it.

  The moment arrives when Princess Buttercup realizes exactly who the Dread Pirate Roberts really is, after he launches himself down a hill yelling, “As you wish!” This gets me every single time, and I sniffle, knowing tears are going to spill. Derek shifts slightly in the lounge and slowly drops his hand next to mine. Before I know it, his fingers are entwined with mine, his thumb making small circles on my hand. I sink lower into the lounge and rest my head on his shoulder, causing him to squeeze my hand harder. My heart is beating out of my chest with nerves and excitement. I haven’t been this close to a boy in a very long time.

  “Is this okay?” he whispers. I squeeze his hand back and nod against his shoulder.

  “Good,” he says.

  I don’t pay attention to the rest of the movie because I’m concentrating on his every move, his every breath. I focus on his strong hand fused with mine for nearly two hours, the swipe of his thumb on my hand, the intermittent squeeze to let me know he’s still connected to me. His head has been resting on top of mine for the past ten minutes or so, and I can feel him swallow and breathe. I can feel his heart beating against my cheek, and it’s beating in time with my own. I’m so at ease, and that makes me nervous.

  The movie ends, and neither of us react. I don’t think either of us wants to move. He stretches his legs and says, “Can I walk you home?”

  I laugh nervously, “Yes, but it’s where you live, too, so it’s not like you need to go out of your way, right?”

  “I’m on the fourth floor, and you’re on the second, so technically, it is out of my way.” He stands, still holding onto my hand, and once again pulls me to my feet. This time, I don’t flinch when our noses practically touch. This time, I welcome the feel of his warm breath on my lips. I blink and inhale softly.

  “Ready?”

  I nod.

  We walk as slowly as possible, hand-in-hand, back to our dorm. When we walk through the doors to the lobby, he pulls me toward the elevator and presses the up arrow. As soon as we’re in the elevator, he presses 2 and leans back against the wall with me. I realize he hasn’t pressed the button for his floor, and my heart begins to beat harder in my chest. The doors open, and he leads me from the elevator, down the hall to my room. Now I feel like I’m going to puke. My hand is sweating, and I’m certain it’s going to slide out of his grip, but his fingers remain intertwined with mine.

  “Thanks for hanging out with me tonight,” he says as we stop in front of my door.

  “Anytime,” I say, and he raises his eyebrows.

  “Yeah? We can do this again?” he asks, smiling.

  I nod slowly as I watch his gaze fall to my lips.

  For the first time in hours, he releases my hand from his. He reaches for my face, softly cradling my cheeks, searching my eyes for permission to do what I’ve been afraid of for too long.

  I nod again, and he places his lips on mine, kissing me softly, stealing my breath away. His thumb swirls on my cheek like it did on my hand all night, and I melt against him. I don’t know what to do with my hands, so I drop them over his shoulders, pulling him a little closer to me. His kiss continues, and I begin kissing back, nipping lightly at his lips and pulling them into my own.

  “Giselle,” he mutters against my mouth. “I have to go.”

  Yes, you do.

  “Okay,” I say, but not before I pull his lips to mine and slide my tongue into his mouth, teasing his.

  He groans and pulls me tight against his body, his lips leaving my mouth, traveling across my cheek to my neck. He breathes deeply, softly nipping and kissing his way back to my lips. I can feel the bulge in his pants growing, and I stiffen in his arms.

  “I’m sorry. I really have to go,” he says, and this time he releases me, backing away so he can look into my eyes.

  “Okay,” I say.

  “I don’t want this to be just a hook-up,” he says, and I quickly nod.

  “Neither do I.” I feel myself flush, and my heart begins to race. My cheeks are burning. I don’t know what I want this to be, but I’m fighting the urge to pull him into my room and see where it might lead.

  He kisses me again and pulls away for the last
time. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks.

  “Definitely,” I smile.

  He backs away down the hall and ducks into the stairwell instead of taking the elevator. I hear him climbing the stairs for two more flights until I hear nothing more.

  My room is dark and empty; Mia is still gone. I throw myself on the bed and sigh deeply.

  What just happened?

  My heart tells me to stay guarded. My body’s not ready for what Derek wants.

  Tonight was amazing, unexpected. Innocent and wonderful.

  And I don’t want it to end.

  Because I’m afraid of what he may want next.

  Dax

  Present

  I WAKE UP TO A WARM BREEZE and the smell of sea salt filling the air. I’m sprawled across the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in and make a note to find out who makes it, and order one for each bedroom in my house.

  I’m in Mexico at a resort called the Presidential Hideaway. And it’s literally hidden. So hidden that I’m one of about two dozen guests in the entire resort. After my little white lie to Alex, I realized I needed to get this trip booked as soon as possible. Stuart, our manager, handled everything, including making a financial transaction for me to put the bike incident behind me. I did something special for Giselle and paid off her car loan. I don’t know how he did it, but Stuart was able to find the name of her car financing company from the license plate number I gave him. I don’t want to know how many privacy laws he violated, but the remaining balance on her twelve-thousand-dollar loan was paid off this week. She should receive the title to her car sometime in the month or so, at which time I expect her to hunt me down and demand an explanation for the generosity I promised her.

  Part of me is actually looking forward to seeing her sassy side. Again.

  I can’t get her out of my head. Everything about her captivates me. When I showed up at her house a few weeks ago, after our gig at The Lounge, I knew I was committing myself to something that I wasn’t ready for. Seeing her in nothing but a t-shirt, holding a baseball bat did something crazy to me. She was so fucking hot. Is so fucking hot. I feel bad showing up the way I did, unannounced, but I was worried about her. When they told me someone was carried out, practically comatose, I needed to make sure she was okay. I should have known it was her friend and not her. Giselle seems so much more responsible than that. Or maybe not. I mean she did let a complete stranger into her car.

  The vision of her bare legs and the tee that barely covered her is back in my head, her perky nipples poking through her practically see-through shirt. God.

  I need to get in the shower and calm myself down before I spend the entire day in my room, her image at the top of my spank bank. I’m in paradise, after all. I need to get out and enjoy the few days that I have here.

  MY SHOWER WAS REFRESHING, in more ways than one. I pull on my swim trunks and t-shirt and slide my feet into a pair of flip-flops I picked up in the airport when I arrived. The walk to the restaurant is quiet, exotic birds flying around and hanging out in the lush trees and bushes. This place is truly relaxing; we should consider doing a retreat with the rest of the band. Garrett could certainly use it and so could Tristan. Whatever he’s been going through lately seems to be taking a toll on his nerves, as well. Our tour doesn’t start for a few months–I think I’ll mention it when I get back. Hell, Garrett can bring Sam and Kai, and if Alex wants to come, he can bring Tabby and the kids. Alex won’t be on tour with us, but he’s been helping us with the arrangement of some of our songs, as he always does. It’s so great still having him involved with us, but I know he’s thoroughly enjoying his full-time husband and father status. He and Tabby fought through a lot to be together, and I can’t blame him for wanting to focus on his family and their happiness.

  The smell of breakfast floods my nose, and I walk into the empty restaurant. The hostess sees me and quickly ushers me to a table on the patio, the Caribbean just a few yards from where I’m seated. Paradise.

  An extensive menu is placed in front of me, but I already know what I want. A waiter appears with a carafe of freshly squeezed orange juice and fills up my empty glass. “Have you decided what you’d like?” he asks.

  “Yes. I’ll have the tomato omelet with toast and some bacon.” He nods quickly and places the carafe on my table.

  The orange juice is amazing, and I refill my glass right away. My phone rings from where I placed it on the table, and I quickly answer it. “Hey, Tristan,” I say.

  “How’s Mexico?” he asks.

  “It’s incredible. You totally need to come here, it’s completely relaxing.”

  “Since when did you need a getaway? You’re the least stressed out of us all.”

  “Long story,” I say. I’m sure he’s already heard about my conversation with Alex, and he’s just trying to get to me.

  “When do you come back?” he asks.

  “I’m here for five days.” Five glorious days.

  “Good for you.”

  “So, what’s up? You okay?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I’m good. It’s just–I may need to ask to postpone our tour for six to eight weeks, and I’m not sure how to approach it with the guys.”

  “Dude, be straight with me. Are you okay?” I know Tristan has been going through something lately, and he’s been very vague about it. I don’t want to pry, but postponing our tour could be serious. Especially with this late notice. I think we’ve already sold out the first dozen or so shows. This would be a PR nightmare.

  “I’m fine. I told you that already. I just have some medical things I need to address, and I’ll need to be close to home for a few weeks.”

  “Tristan, when you say medical things, I think the worst. What the fuck is going on?” I take another sip of orange juice and swallow hard. I’m really worried now.

  “Trust me, everything’s going to be okay. I just wanted to get your thoughts on this.”

  “I think we can do whatever you need. Talk to Stuart. Talk to the rest of the guys. We can delay the start of our tour, refund tickets if we need to. You tell us.”

  “Okay, thanks. I’m glad you aren’t freaking out about possibly postponing.”

  “Of course not. Whatever you need,” I say. “You would tell me if there was something wrong, right?” Like if you were dying?

  “Yeah. Yeah, I totally would. I’m fine. I swear. I’m gonna be fine. Thanks for talking. I’ll let the guys know that you’re on the same page with me, and we can work out the details when you get back. Later.” He disconnects, leaving me hanging. What the hell is going on?

  He’s been super secretive, and I can’t help but think the worst. He looks good, he doesn’t seem sick in any way. In fact, he looks amazingly healthy. I’ve been watching him for signs of fatigue and other things that I saw back when I was a teenager and Lara was sick. Well, I didn’t know she was actually sick because she eluded all of my questions. She was hiding cancer from me, and I’m pretty sure I know what that looks like. I don’t think Tristan is going through anything like that, but what the fuck is he dealing with?

  The waiter is back with several plates, and my breakfast is placed on the table in front of me.

  “Can I bring you anything else?” he asks.

  “No. Everything looks great,” I say and pick up my knife and fork.

  A small group of people are ushered in and seated at the other end of the small patio. The waiter brings them menus and two carafes of orange juice. After he takes their orders, he asks them, “What brought you all to Playa del Carmen?”

  One of the guys answers for the group. “We’re here for a retreat with our company. The rest of our group will be coming in later this morning.”

  The waiter smiles and asks, “Oh? How many more?”

  “About twenty.”

  Shit.

  I’ve had this resort practically to myself for the past day and a half, now I’ll be sharing it with at least twenty more people, and I’m not pleased. Maybe I can stay hidde
n back at my room. I’m thankful that I have a private dipping pool beyond my patio, so I won’t need to share the resort pool with a bunch of drunken, corporate types.

  I finish my breakfast and drop a hundred-dollar bill on the table. I’m over-tipping because I forgot to bring any money to dinner last night. The manager explained to me that this is an all-inclusive resort and their staff doesn’t expect anything from the patrons, but I know better. I’ve been to Mexico before, and the people working in these resorts are thankful for every single dollar they receive from the guests.

  The beach is calling me, and I find a private lounge bed, and toss my tank top onto it, and kick my flip-flops underneath. After a swim, I plan to pull the privacy curtains around me and sleep all day on this outdoor piece of heaven. Maybe I’ll even get a massage.

  But first, I jog toward the water and dive in, taking in all of my surroundings. The turquoise water is beautiful and clear. I can see colorful fish all over the place, and I can even see my feet. Where I go swimming at the Jersey shore is beautiful, but I’ve never been in water this crystal clear. I float out a little bit more and swim parallel to the coast.

  I HAVEN’T LEFT my private little hut on the beach since I came back from my swim a few hours ago. Since then, I’ve napped, eaten an incredible lunch, napped again, and spoke to Alex twice and Heath once. Epic Fail business aside, I’m thoroughly enjoying this completely impromptu R&R trip. Stuart picked the perfect place for me to escape, even if I really didn’t need to escape from anything at all.

  My phone alarm buzzes. It’s four o’clock. Time for a run. If I don’t want to go home twenty pounds heavier, I’m going to have to hit the sand for the next few days. I tuck my phone into the pocket inside my swim trunks and put my earbuds in. There’s nothing like jogging barefoot on the beach. My running companions, AWOLNATION, blast through my ears and help me through the next forty-five minutes. The heat is becoming unbearable, and I realize I don’t have any sunscreen on. Since I was in the covered lounge all day today, I didn’t think I needed any. Now, I can feel the skin on the back of my neck and shoulders burning up. I see my destination about a quarter of a mile away, and I widen my stride, pumping my arms harder to help get me there faster. As soon as I’m back, I’m going to grab my stuff and head back to my room. The quiet pool is perfectly shaded and will relieve my sunburn.