Epic Lies (Epic Fail Book 2)

by Trudy Stiles

  There’s pain in her eyes, and I can tell that she’s also struggling with her own inner demons. I hate that anyone has ever hurt her.

  “So, now what?” she asks.

  “I’m not sure. But I don’t want you to walk away from me again.”

  “You pushed me away,” she breathes.

  “I know. And I shouldn’t have,” I admit and brush her wild hair away from her face. I need to see her. All of her.

  “Good,” she says, and a soft smile plays on her lips.

  A strange feeling has taken over, one that I haven’t felt in a long time. My heart pounds in my chest as I cradle her cheek in my hand. What is she doing to me?

  She closes her eyes as I kiss her gently, savoring her softness, her scent, her taste. She remains still, but relaxes into my lips, parting hers slightly, allowing me in. I tease her with my tongue as hers meets mine. She moans gently against my lips, and I wrap my free arm around her waist, pulling her toward me. She wraps her arms around my neck, her fingers teasing the back of my hair. Our kiss becomes more desperate as she slides onto my lap, her legs wrapping around my back and her center exactly where I want it. Our foreheads brush against each other, and I wince.

  “God, I’m so sorry,” she says as her lips leave mine. She kisses a path from my mouth to my forehead where her lips drift over the aching bump. Her move exposes her neck, and I don’t waste any time. I nip and kiss along her jaw and over to her ear, causing her to tense in my lap and moan again. She’s now firmly pressed against the bulge in my swim trunks, and she doesn’t stop pressing.

  I pull her face back down to mine and hold her firmly in front of me, placing my lips over hers, inhaling her breaths. Her hips roll into me, and I realize we’re going to reach a point of no return. “Wait,” I say, and her breathing hitches.

  “Hmm?” she says against my mouth, kissing me again. I feel her nipples against my bare chest as she presses into me. Teasing me.

  I place my hands under her ass and flip her off of my lap and onto her back. I lean over her, taking control back and press down on her arms, holding them in place. She immediately stiffens underneath me and sucks in her breath. Her reaction causes me to quickly release her.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, and her eyes widen. “Shit,” I say and climb off of her.

  “I’m fine,” she whispers.

  Something clearly got to her, and I’m angry with myself for taking control the way I did. I obviously startled her.

  I lie next to her and watch her take deep, even breaths. Whatever got her nervous, I want to take back, make it go away.

  “Have dinner with me tonight,” I blurt out, and she turns to look at me.

  “Okay.” She surprises me with her quick answer, and her smile is back again. Her nervousness seems to have disappeared.

  “I can’t cook,” I joke.

  “I wouldn’t worry about that,” she says. “There are plenty of restaurants to choose from right here.”

  “I don’t want to eat in a restaurant, surrounded by all of those corporate people, some of them trying to get into your pants.”

  She laughs out loud. “I doubt that very much.”

  I get serious for a second. “You don’t think so? I watched that tool try to pick you up just a little while ago. Don’t try to tell me there aren’t a dozen of them from your office that don’t try the same thing.”

  Her eyes turn dark. “You were totally spying on me. That wasn’t right.”

  “Hey, I saved you from some really bad pick-up lines, didn’t I?” I smile.

  “I can handle Liam. He’s harmless,” she says, unconvincingly.

  “Have you had to fend him off in the past?”

  “Not really. And don’t worry, I can handle myself.”

  “I believe you, I’ve seen you with a baseball bat.” I brush her cheek with the back of my fingers.

  She laughs and flashes her bright, perfect teeth.

  “So, what’s your suggestion for dinner if you don’t want to go to one of the restaurants here?” she asks as the warm breeze picks up and blows air underneath her cover up, exposing her bikini bottoms and bare stomach. She quickly presses it down, hiding her body from me.

  “Come to my suite. We’ll have them deliver food to us,” I suggest.

  “Like room service?” she asks, teasing.

  “Yes, like room service.”

  “Okay,” she says, and I feel completely relieved. Whatever caused her to flinch a few minutes ago has nothing to do with me, otherwise she wouldn’t have accepted my invitation to dine alone.

  I reach for her hand to pull her off of the lounge. “Let’s go now. We can order as soon as we get back to my room.”

  A look of surprise flushes across her face. “I need to freshen up,” she says and blushes.

  I pull her against me and kiss her nose. “Be careful shaving,” I joke, and she smacks my arm.

  “If only I could reach my sunscreen,” she replies.

  “Yeah, about that. How huge is the lump on my head?” I ask.

  She leans back and raises her eyebrows. “Yikes,” she says, shaking her head.

  “Crap,” I say and reach to feel what I imagine to look like a giant goose egg.

  When I feel nothing, I exhale. “Exaggerate much?”

  “It was huge before, you should have seen it,” she blinks and smiles.

  “I bet.” I pull her in for another kiss, and she giggles against my lips. “Let’s go, I’ll walk you back to your room and then you can come meet me at mine when you’re ready.”

  We walk hand-in-hand across the hot sand toward the resort. Her co-workers are rowdy and laughing near the pool bar, and as soon as we walk past them, loud whispering commences. Several of the girls cover their mouths, and the guys watch Giselle closely. I can only imagine the gossip that began once The Tool got rejected by her. Now they’re all wondering why they didn’t know Giselle had a boyfriend and where I’ve been the past few days. I smile at the group and pull Giselle closer to my side as their jaws hang open. I can only hope I’m not recognized for who I really am, because it’s been wonderful being completely incognito these past few days, and I’d like that to continue.

  Giselle waves tentatively at the group as they watch us walk down the path to the rooms.

  “That was awkward,” I say.

  “Yeah, especially since you told Liam you were my boyfriend. I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do when I get back.”

  “Which room are you?” I ask as we walk past the exotic birds that have nested along the trees on the walkway.

  “Twelve-twenty.”

  “Really?” She’s literally right next door to me. My suite is the last at the end of the building where it bends to provide privacy for the small dipping pool in the back.

  “I’m twelve-eighteen.”

  “You really are stalking me,” she jokes, and we walk down the path to our rooms.

  “After you freshen up, put your suit back on. I have a pool, if you’d like to go for a dip.”

  “You just don’t want me to put pants on, do you?” She jokes, and I laugh out loud. I remember the night I showed up at her house, and she answered the door in just panties and a long t-shirt. Giselle without pants is heaven.

  “You’re on vacation. Pants should be optional,” I say as we stop in front of her door.

  She swipes her key over the lock, and it disengages. I open the door to let her in, and she immediately looks embarrassed. “Don’t come in, the room is a mess.”

  I crane my neck to see towels and clothes strewn all over the place, and I chuckle. I notice the PRIVACY tag hanging from her door and realize she didn’t let housekeeping in. “You know, they can clean up after you.”

  “No!” She scolds. “I would never make someone clean up that.” She points to the mess, embarrassed.

  “You’re too sweet,” I say and kiss her cheek. “Come by in a half hour?” I suggest, and she nods.

  She enters her room, and I hold m
y breath as she closes the door between us. I can’t believe everything that’s happened today. Listening to her tell her friend about how she felt, how I made her feel last night, sparked something in me that I can’t quite grasp. I feel terrible that she thought I rejected her, and now I desperately need to prove her wrong. When that asshole hit on her, I had to put an end to it. She doesn’t deserve someone like that in her life. She should be cherished, not treated like some hook-up at a corporate retreat.

  But, am I doing the same thing? Treating her like a hook-up?

  As I walk into my room, I hope I haven’t made a colossal mistake inviting her here. She’s walking into this eyes wide open, heart exposed. I’m afraid of destroying her beautiful soul. What if she wants more from me?

  Can I give her more?

  Giselle

  Present

  HOLY SHIT. HOLY SHIT. HOLY SHIT.

  What the hell am I doing?

  My heart is pounding, and I feel dizzy. I sit on the bed and try to calm myself. Dax is waiting next door, and I’m over here freaking out like a teenager.

  I realize he isn’t making any promises to me, but his actions tonight speak volumes. He saved me from Liam, and even though I don’t think he’s as big of a tool as Dax does, it was amazing to know that our interaction sparked something in Dax. Was it jealousy?

  I strip down and kick my cover-up and bathing suit into the pile of clothes in the corner of the room. I need to clean this place tonight when I get back. I haven’t let housekeeping in to clean up because I’m completely embarrassed by how much of a mess I’ve made. It’s now officially become a problem since I’ve run out of towels and wash cloths, and I’m dangerously low on toilet paper.

  Lukewarm water washes the sand and sun from my skin, and I lather up. I swipe the razor from the ledge and make sure I’ve removed all stray hairs from everywhere. My cheeks flush as my embarrassment from earlier is fresh in my mind. I can’t believe Dax heard everything I talked to Mia about, including my shaving issues. Holy hell.

  Once I’m out of the shower, I smooth my favorite pink baby lotion all over and look at myself in the mirror. My tan is completely lopsided. My legs are the only part of me that I’ve exposed to the sun. I have a clear stripe in the middle of my thighs, indicating the line of demarcation from where my cover-up reached. My hair is sun-kissed and wild. It’s so dry from the salt air and sand that I’ve done nothing to tame it over the past few days. I don’t bother trying to fix that and wrap it into a bun on top of my head. I’ll fight that battle another time.

  My face is dry, and I realize how little water I’ve had over the past few days. I’m terrified of getting sick, and I’ve been conserving the bottled water to brush my teeth with and add to my drinks when needed. I rub some coconut oil into my face, soothing the slight sunburn and let it absorb into my parched skin. It feels incredible.

  Does he really want me to wear a bathing suit to dinner?

  I stress out looking at the heaping pile of dirty clothes on my floor. I’m not sure what I have clean, and I don’t know if wearing another bikini is a good idea. I open the dresser drawer and find my favorite bathing suit, and it’s still clean. I hold it up and know it’s the most revealing of all of the ones that I brought. I slip into it anyway, comforted that I have another cover-up that’s clean.

  He’s expecting me any minute, and my nerves set in. I look at my reflection in the mirror again and smile. I have to go over there tonight with no expectations and walk away with no regrets. No matter what happens.

  I swipe my hand along the spot on my leg that earlier today was covered in stubble. Smooth.

  I’m ready. I think.

  I KNOCK SOFTLY on his door, and it immediately swings open.

  He’s freshly showered and in a new t-shirt and swim trunks. The scent of Aloe Vera fills my nose, and I can’t help but wonder if his sunburn is still bad.

  “I’m glad you decided not to wear pants,” he says as his eyes move from my feet up my body.

  “You had me at ‘I have a pool,’” I say and smile. He grabs my hand and pulls me into his room, letting the door shut behind me. He places a chaste kiss on my lips and pulls away.

  “You look beautiful,” he says.

  I blush as I do every single time he compliments me on my looks. No one has ever said as many nice things about me as he has.

  “This old thing?” I joke nervously, and he kisses me again. This time his lips linger, and his arms wrap around my waist. I suddenly want to slow down time and make every second that I have with him tonight count. I don’t care what tomorrow brings.

  I run my fingers along his forehead. “How’s the lump?” I ask.

  “Mostly gone, but it still hurts like a bitch,” he says as I plant a kiss on the spot where I chucked my sunscreen bottle. He tightens his grip around me, and I realize I’m forgiven.

  “Sorry about that,” I say, and he laughs.

  “You know I deserved it. I’m over it,” he says and looks into my eyes. “Or, am I?”

  “Maybe I should leave,” I joke, pretending to head toward the door. “I certainly don’t want any retribution.”

  His eyes become serious, and he stares into mine. “You have nothing to worry about.” His mouth covers mine as his hands move from my hips to my face. I inhale as he kisses me softly, fingers tangled in my wet hair.

  “You smell good,” he says as he reluctantly pulls away from me, but keeps hold of my hand. He pulls me into his suite, and I’m in awe.

  “Your room is ten times the size of mine. And we’re right next door to each other,” I say in disbelief. This room is totally amazing. The patio has four huge glass doors that open up to a private pool. He called it a ‘dipping pool’ earlier today, but it’s much bigger than that. You could legitimately swim laps in this thing and get a workout. His bedroom is to the right and has two wide doors that are open, leading to it. Another set of glass doors takes up one entire wall in there. “Amazing,” I say, and he smiles.

  “I had no idea I’d get put in the Presidential Suite,” he says modestly. “My manager must know someone to pull strings for me.”

  “Right,” I say as he releases me. I walk through the room and see the dining area to my left. The table is set with beautiful china. “I thought you said this was going to be casual?”

  “They’ve been good to me so far. When I asked to be set for a private and romantic dinner tonight, they took me very seriously.”

  “I see…” Romantic. “You do romantic?” I joke.

  “You have no idea,” he says, and for the first time I can see how serious he is. His eyes pierce mine, and I feel his energy. If he asked me right now to do anything, I would.

  “Is there a menu for tonight?”

  “It’s already taken care of,” he responds and walks over to the wet bar by the patio. “Wine?”

  “Yes. Red please.”

  He points to several bottles lined up, and he raises his eyebrow. “Cabernet, Shiraz, or Pinot Noir?”

  “Pinot.”

  He grabs two stemless glasses and fills them both half-way. He walks back over to me and places one of the glasses into my hand; his fingers linger on mine.

  “To new beginnings,” he says and softly clinks his glass into mine. I nod and sip from my glass quickly. I don’t want to jinx his toast.

  He leads me out onto the patio, and I see exactly what he told me earlier today. It’s totally and completely private. A thick hedge runs around the perimeter of the pool with bamboo trees stacked inside of that, taller than most of the surrounding trees. Candles float in the pool, their flames reflecting off of the small ripples caused by the warm breeze. This is literally the most romantic setting I’ve ever been in.

  “It’s beautiful,” I say, and take another sip of my wine.

  He pulls me over to the lounge next to the pool. It looks exactly the same as the ones we’ve been spending our time on out at the beach, except there aren’t privacy curtains hanging on the sides. We sit, an
d he doesn’t let go of my hand.

  “So, I didn’t exactly start off on the right foot with you,” he says, and I want to stop him. I feel like he has an apology coming, and I don’t need it. I’m over it all. I just want to move forward.

  “But–” I say, and he raises his hand to stop me from interjecting.

  “Just listen,” he says gently.

  I nod.

  “I don’t have the best track record when it comes to relationships. I’ve been lied to, cheated on, and left heartbroken far too many times. I don’t trust easily, and I haven’t loved anyone for years. My heart is jaded and damaged.” His tone is serious, and my own heart sinks for him. I have so many of these feelings myself, but I hold them close.

  “Something happened that day you saved my life,” he continues. “I don’t know what it was, but when I saw you wave to me from your car, I knew something was about to change. I still can’t put my finger on it, but when my bike got demolished by the fire truck, I knew you changed my history. My existence. I’ve been fighting my feelings for a few weeks. I’m struggling with what you mean to me. I know we’ve only known each other for a short time, but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life.” He pauses and searches my face for a response.

  I’m in awe. I never expected to hear any of this from him, or anyone for that matter. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say that you feel the same way,” he requests. Demands.

  “Yes,” I say breathlessly. I can’t deny the connection that I’ve felt to him since the second he fell into my car, when he was anonymous to me. He wasn’t the Dax Anderson. He was just a stranded cyclist in trouble. A stranger, but something more.

  “I’m sorry for the way I’ve behaved, and I apologize in advance for how I’m going to behave. I don’t trust easily, and my first instinct is to think I’m being lied to.”

  Me too.

  “I can understand that,” I say. “I’ve been lied to enough times in my life to recognize when it’s happening again.”

  “You don’t think I’m lying now, do you?” he asks, worried.

  “No.”

  There’s a soft knock on his door, and he stands up, grabbing my hand and pulling me through the doors into the dining room. “Dinner’s here.”