Truth & Temptation

by Riley Edgewood

  And again I don't get a chance to write back because it takes me too long to read his email, and a few minutes later he's breezing between Sam's desk and mine. He turns pointedly toward Sam. "Did you hear from Denise about Monday's schedule change?"

  Sam shakes his head. "But I can call your cell phone if I hear from her before I leave."

  Alec tells him not to worry about it and slowly turns toward me. "Have a nice weekend."

  "See you Monday, boss." But I'm smirking as I say it. And then biting back a giggle when he gives me an oh, really? look before walking away.

  Nothing can kill my mood. Not a thing. Even when I have to spend the last two hours of my workday filing things in our floor's supply room. Long rows of drawers that pull out into longer rows of dividers—which is my personal hell. It's impossible for me to easily read the labels and everything blurs together and I lose my place nine times out of ten. A lesser girl might break down in tears.

  But that girl probably doesn't have health insurance. And she also probably isn't a few more hours away from a date with the sexiest guy she's ever known.

  So yeah. This girl can keep her shit together.

  This girl even smiles while she does it.

  Cassidy's eyes widen when she answers her door, and she catcalls me loud enough for her far-off neighbors to hear. "Your makeup—wow. You look hot."

  "Shut it." I shove past her, but I'm still too high from the rest of my day to be embarrassed. Still too high to let the pictures of Jason surrounding me suffocate me. If I don't look at them, they won't have the chance.

  "What's in the bag?" Cassidy asks, and I instinctively crush it to my chest, the plastic crinkling all loud and obvious.

  "Nothing."

  "It's totally lingerie." She knows me. I've talked about sexy sets before. A lot.

  But I was never being honest, and now that I'm actually going for it, I don't want to talk about it.

  "Don't you want to wash it first?"

  "I don't have time. Can we please drop it? And can you please give me something to wear?"

  She motions for me to follow her up the winding staircase leading out of her foyer. "We've got to find something hot enough to match your hair and face."

  "Thanks." I blew out my hair, really took my time with it. Now it hangs sleek and straighter than I've worn it in a long time. Put extra effort into my makeup too. Only took me four tries to master the cat eye. Gran told me I look like a whore on my way out, but it didn't cut me as deeply as it could have. I feel pretty. I feel good. Which, being here in this house, is saying something. But I'm not letting my thoughts travel that direction. "I was thinking that black top you have, with all the beading on the shoulders."

  She shakes her head, not turning around when she responds. "I have a green dress that's going to be fucking killer on you. That's what you're wearing."

  I have my doubts about wearing a Cassidy dress. She has bigger boobs; I have a bigger belly. Sometimes shirts work because of the differences in space, but a dress? I can't picture it.

  And then she makes me try it on and I can. In a mirror.

  Her green dress is perfect. Somehow it isn't too big in the boobs. Somehow it makes my belly look flatter. Somehow I can still breathe in it.

  "Yeah. That thing's not going to be staying on you for long," Cassidy says, circling me. "It hits you in all the right spots."

  This should make me happy. It really does hit me in the right places. But the thought of the dress coming off—and what it means—makes my nerves ripple uncomfortably under my skin…

  Then I remember Alec took sex off the table for tonight, and my nerves relax. A little, at least.

  "He's a good guy," I say without really meaning to, my voice way, way too breathless for my liking.

  "Oh," Cassidy says, pausing in front of me. "Oh. You like him like him."

  "He's okay," I mumble. Cassidy's my best friend, but—because of it, because of how closely she can look right into me—it's like pushing a boulder uphill to get myself to open up to her. Or, if I'm honest with myself, it's like holding up the immeasurable weight of a secret weekend spent with her brother before he died. He blocks everything else that would maybe come out easier otherwise.

  "Remember senior year?" she asks, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "I gave it up to Jackson Winters and he dumped me right after—two weeks before homecoming?"

  Ugh. That prick. He convinced Cassidy to lose her virginity before the dance so they wouldn't be a cliche, doing it after, but he dropped her literally the next day. He'd been planning to take Cassie LeClaire the whole time anyway. I study Cassidy. "You think Alec's looking for a pump and dump? Because I promise you, he isn't."

  "No." She shakes her head emphatically. "I think you're too smart to fall for someone's bullshit the way I did. But remember how you keyed the shit out of the side of Jackson's shiny cherry red Camaro before the dance—and forced me to come back with you afterward, to watch his expression when he discovered it? And he cried? And stood up Cassie because of it. And the entire thing was fucking awesome?"

  "Yep." The memory makes me smile almost as widely as the actual moment did. It felt good, destroying his car after he'd destroyed my best friend. I swore that day—though it wasn't the first time—I'd never let some asshole dupe me.

  "What I'm trying to say is that if this Alec hurts you, Teagan, I'll find whatever he treasures as much as Jackson did that stupid Camaro, and I'll destroy it."

  I study her harder now, looking deeper in those wide green eyes. "What's with this sudden protectiveness?"

  A pale pink sweeps across her cheeks. "You like him. He's not some fuck and fling-away like the others. I want someone good in your life—and if you're finally taking a chance to let him into more than your bed, I want him to be worthy of you."

  "I have someone good in my life," I mumble, irritated that she's making me feel more touchy feely than I'd like. Irritated that she's reminding me of all the lies I've fed her—and everyone else. "You. And Vera."

  "True." She squeezes me for about two seconds, which is as long as I last in her embrace before stepping away. "You know what I mean, Teag. Your skin is flushed, your eyes are sparkling… It's about fucking time you let a guy in."

  "You are exaggerating," I say, ignoring my reflection when she spins me toward her mirror again. "You're trying to make me feel mushy and all that does is piss me off."

  She sighs. "I know. But you've got this happiness in your face—I've never seen it there over a guy before."

  It's been there, of course.

  I need to tell her about her brother.

  God. Jason.

  The boy I once thought I could love.

  The boy I once thought could love me.

  The boy who fucking overdosed before I could truly find out.

  God. Jason.

  I open my mouth.

  To say what? I once looked at your brother like that? But he swore me to secrecy? And then he died and maybe I should've seen it coming? Sorry? And sorry I've been keeping this from you for almost two years?

  Cassidy's head is tilted to the side while she waits for me to speak. I shut my mouth.

  I glance out her window, and Miles's town car is pulling into her driveway. "Fuck. He's here."

  Cassidy grabs my arm. "Make him wait a minute."

  "I'm not making him wait," I say, pulling her with me out into the hall. "I'm not playing games."

  "You always play games," she says. Because I've always claimed to. The guilt from lying is heaviest in front of those misled, and I'm about to drown in mine.

  "Not this time."

  "Not this time what?" Mr. Evans is heading toward the stairs at the same time we are. Fuck. "You look nice, Teagan. Where you headed, honey?"

  "Nothing," I say, my face heating. "I mean, nowhere. I'm—"

  "She's got a hot date with Mr. Chamber's son," Cassidy teases and I want to punch her.

  "Alec?" Mr. Evans blinks. "Isn't he…" Engaged? He doesn't ha
ve to say the word for it to ring loudly between us. He trails off, making his own assumptions. So this is fucking great. What do I say here? I can't tell him Alec's not really getting married; it's not my secret to share—but I look like a total whore, going out with an engaged dude. Way to live up to Gran's expectations, Teagan…

  "Mr. Evans, it's not what you think, and I'm begging you not to say anything." How did I not think this through? Embarrassment and regret make good partners in the synchronized swan dive they take down to the pit of my stomach.

  "Just be careful, sweetie," he says, his tone deep with warning. "The Chambers family is formidable. And Philip can be a bit of a bear when it comes to his business—which, in his mind, extends to his family."

  "I'll be careful," I say. "Thank you."

  "I had half a mind to see Cassidy with Alec, once upon a time," he says, his eyes shifting playfully toward his daughter. "Until she met Gangrene, or whatever his name is."

  "Dad." But Cassidy smiles through the word, which shows some major progress, if they're joking together. They've had a rough relationship since Jason died.

  "Anyway it's not a big deal, we're going to go over some work stuff," I ramble. "Don't make more of this than…" Than what? The thing I'm so clearly trying to pretend isn't happening? Mr. Evans isn't an idiot. "Work stuff, I mean."

  "Right," Mr. Evans says, doubt clear across his expression. "He does have some interesting ideas…"

  "About small business and tech startups?" I ask, the inkling of an idea blossoming at the back of my mind.

  He nods, still frowning. "I've been trying to convince Philip to expand our focus for years now, and the directions Alec came up with are perfect."

  "You should team up," I say. "With the two of you pushing for it, Mr. Chambers would have to listen, right?"

  "Maybe," he muses. "But I'm not sure Alec's the kind of guy I want to get into business with." He gives me a pointed glance.

  "Don't misread this," I plead. "He's—"

  "Oh, please," Cassidy says, rolling her eyes. "Dad, stop being so overprotective of Teagan. She's a big girl. She can date whoever she wants. And Teagan. Come on. You're not borrowing my dress to discuss work things."

  I glare at her. She's not helping. At all.

  Probably my own fault for not telling her everything. But I'm so used to lying about this part of my life, I'm not sure how to be honest.

  "Don't write him off," I say to Mr. Evans. "Anyway, bye. I'll dry-clean your dress, Cassidy. Thanks."

  Cassidy laughs as I flee down the stairs. Her dad stays silent.

  Jason's portraits watch me from the wall. And while looking at them doesn't make my stomach hurt the way they used to, I still miss him. And I hate that I'm rushing out of here while his father's judging me for something I can't refute.

  Apparently regret and embarrassment were the opening act. Currently on deck, heavy on the board, is self-loathing. What am I doing? I'm an idiot. This will never work. Maybe Alec was lying about Piper. Maybe he's a total player and I'm falling for his bullshit, proving for the millionth time in my life that I'm dumb as a blank piece of paper.

  Maybe I'm exactly like my mother.

  Then I'm outside, and instead of Miles waiting by the car to open my door like I assume he'll be, Alec is striding toward the house. Toward me.

  Crisp button-down. Crisp denim. Slicked-back hair and dark, dark eyes penetrating my armor of sadness like an arrow.

  Everything else disintegrates into dust in the background.

  I smile.

  I breathe.

  I meet him halfway.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  ALEC SLIDES A hand around my neck, holding me like his palm was created to fit just so. "You look… Wow."

  I slide my gaze up to his face, my mouth suddenly wetter than before. "You smell like your soap."

  He laughs.

  "Or…something that comes off as a nicer compliment," I amend, because obviously he doesn't know what that scent does to me. He doesn't know my knees are turning to liquid and I might slide right into the ground if he lets go. "You look hot."

  He doesn't know all I want to do is toss myself at him, wrap my rubbery legs around his waist, lick his mouth…

  Oh, God. I'm in so much trouble.

  "Thank you," he says, flashing his dimples. He slowly, slowly brings his face toward me, his eyes locked on mine, and says, gruffly, "I want a quick taste before we go."

  He kisses the corner of my mouth, his lips lingering against my skin. One second. Two.

  I try to remind myself that Cassidy—or worse, her father—could be watching right now. But… I close my eyes, inhaling. That soap scent hits me even deeper and something silky slides through my veins. I turn my face a fraction of an inch, until our mouths are flush, and I trace my tongue along the inner curve of his upper lip.

  "Careful," he says, against my mouth. "I only wanted a hint of sugar before dinner, but you keep this up, we won't be eating tonight… Not food, anyway. I can think of something else I'd like to eat." His hand slides down my back, curving around my hip, and the heat of his palm sinks through the fabric of my dress and oh God my knees literally do slip an inch.

  I catch myself against his chest, pushing away from him like I meant to do it, grinning, the whispered weight of his lips still echoing across mine. "Whatever. Told you I'd make you beg."

  "You think this is me begging?" he asks, holding my chin, sliding his thumb across my lips.

  I bite the tip of his finger before I answer, tugging at his skin with my teeth. Hard enough to make him wince a little. "I think you said you were driving, like a real date. But it's Miles behind the wheel…"

  "I realized we might want to drink." He walks me to the car, opening the door for me.

  "How responsible of you." I slide in, greeting Miles, who winks at me in the rearview mirror.

  "Though maybe," Alec says, dropping down beside me, "we won't drink quite as much as we did last time."

  And I doubt he means to do it, but I'm instantly reminded that I'm the moron who passed out after sharing too many secrets last time, and my mood starts to fall. "Yeah. Maybe I'll stick to water."

  My hand is pressed flat against the seat and he runs his fingers over it. "Have I told you how sexy you are?"

  "According to my grandmother, I look like a whore, so I guess that puts me somewhere in the middle of your opinions."

  "Your grandmother's an idiot," he says without skipping a beat. "I have excellent taste. If I tell you you're hot, you're fucking hot. Understand?"

  I stare out my window, watching Cassidy's posh neighborhood slide by, willing my brain to kick out Gran's words, to push away the embarrassment of my past mistakes. He grabs my chin, a little roughly this time, and pulls my face toward him. "Understand?"

  And the way he's looking at me, the way his gaze drops to my mouth, the way he wets his own lips, I do understand. I nod and his grip turns to more of a caress.

  "So, um, where are we going?" I need him to back away from me. Just a smidgen. Or I might eat him for dinner.

  He leans back against his seat, watching me. "Clearwater Heights. I reserved a corner table."

  "Cool." I scratch my neck, all casual, like it's not the nicest restaurant in southern Virginia and I've literally never known anyone who's been there—even Cassidy. Then…fuck it. I turn to him, letting my excitement show. "Why a corner table?"

  "We'll have the river on one side and mountains in the background on the other," he says. It makes sense. The restaurant sits at the top of a towering business building and is all glass so patrons can look out over the water, or valley, for miles. Or, so I'd assume. And so I'll find out. Holy shit.

  "Pulling out all the stops," I tease, cocking a brow—and then pausing to consider. "Unless this is a regular night for you."

  He laughs. "No. I've only been there twice."

  "Oh?"

  "And never on a date."

  I shouldn't be this pleased. I know better than anyon
e that it never lasts.

  But damn, I am pleased. Too much to bother attempting to smother it.

  And I'm even more pleased when we're seated in the restaurant and it's exactly as he promised. On one side of us, the river swirls below, and on the other, the mountains rise in the distance.

  It's dizzying. It's… "Breathtaking."

  "Yes," he agrees, but when I glance at him, he's studying me instead of the view. "You are."

  I don't know how to respond, so I turn my face toward the river, watching gentle ripples dimpling the surface. And the sunset. The sky above the mountains darkens from a golden yellow into a bruised purple, stretching over the rolling peaks, and for the briefest of moments I wish I were better with words. Writing, reading. Anything to let me capture this feeling.

  The waiter comes, and, after asking permission, Alec orders us a bottle of wine. I don't usually drink it, but there's no way I can't have it tonight. It's red and dry and…the least horrible wine I've ever had. Alec swears it will be delicious with steaks. When our orders are taken, he draws the waiter toward him and says something quietly in his ear.

  "What was that all about?" I ask. "You're not having them sing happy birthday to me, right? Because I seriously doubt they do that here." I gesture subtly to the rest of the restaurant. Shimmering accents—on the restaurant decor and most of the women in it. Glistening crystal glasses, and twinkling lights and wedding rings, or earrings, or both.

  "No," Alec says. "Wait."

  A few seconds later our waiter returns, handing Alec a small bowl that I can't quite see into. Alec tips it forward, though—and I discover it's filled with cherries. I bite my lip to keep from cracking up.

  The restaurant's darker now; they upped the ambient lighting as the sun set, and there's a whisper of something classical drifting out of hidden speakers.

  And we're practicing tying cherry stems in knots with our tongues, trying not to die laughing.

  "This is so not sexy," I say, snorting.

  He shakes his head. "You should see your jaw—back and forth and back and forth. It's a lovely jaw, but it's moving as though you're chewing cud."