Things Liars Fake: a Novella (a #ThreeLittleLies novella Book 3)

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Things Liars Fake: a Novella (a #ThreeLittleLies novella Book 3) Page 11

by Sara Ney


  Me: I’d argue with you but I know it would be pointless. At least make my character gorgeous and smart and hilarious.

  Tabitha: You just described yourself ;)

  Me: Aww, that’s why I love you so much.

  Tabitha: So this thing with Dexter… can you see it getting serious?

  Me: Oh gosh—YES! Yes, he’s… awesome. LOL. Just the thought of him has me…

  Tabitha: Wanting to “bake cookies?”

  Me: Dozens and dozens of cookies…

  Six or 8 months later…who really knows?

  “I wonder what the occasion is,” I mumble to a beautiful, blonde haired Greyson in the kitchen of her brother Collin’s new condo. His second condo in a year, but… somehow this doesn’t feel like a house warming party. “What’s up with this little shin-dig they decided to throw last minute?”

  He and Tabitha have been living together for the past six months—dating for eight—and tonight they’re throwing an impromptu…whatever this party is.

  “Well,” she says conspiratorially, giving me a nudge and grabbing a handful of chips. “My theory is that they’re going to announce an engagement. At least, I hope that’s what this is. They can’t keep having these house warming parties.”

  I glance around at the room full of people; Tabitha’s parents. Collin and Greyson’s parents. Greyson and her rugged, rugby playing boyfriend Calvin. More family. More friends. A crowded room gathered in Tab and Collin’s spacious high-rise condo.

  “Or maybe this is about one of her books?” I speculate. Tabitha is an author, and she’s on book number three. “Maybe she’s made a best seller list somewhere?”

  Greyson doesn’t look convinced. “Maybe. But I’m still putting my money on an engagement. Do you see the way my brother is following her around, waiting on her hand and foot?”

  I had noticed that. Collin fetching her water. Rubbing her shoulders while she spoke to her parents. Bringing her little plates of food. Touching her.

  Hmmm.

  I’m not convinced this is them springing an engagement on us. That’s not Tabitha’s style. “Maybe, but they haven’t even been together for a year.”

  Collin’s sister looks at me, incredulously. “Those two? Are you kidding me? They were crazy about each other from day one. Almost inseparable.”

  I scrunch my face. “I think you’re remembering it wrong. Collin harassed her, embarrassed her, and she spent how many weeks avoiding him. When you say ‘crazy about each other,’ you’re thinking of you and Calvin.”

  Greyson and her boyfriend are in crazy, mad, love with each other, and have been since the day they met; the day she created a fake boyfriend named Cal Thompson to keep her nosy friends off her back.

  Almost the same way Dexter had asked me to be his fake girlfriend for one night so his family wouldn’t meddle in his love life.

  Actually, come to think of it, all three of us—Greyson, Tabitha and I—lied at the beginning of our relationships; Greyson lied about inventing a fake boyfriend, Tabitha lied about being an author and hid her books from everyone, and I lied about being Dexter’s girlfriend.

  What pretty little liars we all turned out to be; thank god everything ended well for us.

  “Having a good time?” I ask, sidling up to Dexter. He slides a hand around my waist, pulling me in. Pulling me close and planting a quick kiss on my neck, just under my ear; my favorite spot.

  I shiver every time.

  “I’m having a good time; I just wish Collin hadn’t invited my sisters. Why would he do that? They’re driving me crazy. I mean—just look at them over there.” He nods to the opposite side of the room to where the twins are holding court, gesturing wildly and laughing uproariously.

  I have a sneaking suspicion they’re re-enacting the moment they came to Dexter’s defense the night of their 16th birthday party, telling their cousin Elliot to kiss off. Called him a douchebag. Went Twin Gangsta on his cocky ass.

  Even though that was more than six months ago, retelling that story is one of their favorite things to do in mixed company.

  And they do it so well. So vividly.

  So loudly.

  The tips of Dexter’s ears turn pink when Lucy throws her arms in the air, shouting, “We’ll wait here while you finish him off!” The declaration is loud enough to be heard by everyone in the room.

  My boyfriend groans. “Why do they insist on telling that story?” He runs a hand through his neatly combed hair, and my eyes follow his movements, trailing down the column of his neck to the exposed skin at his collar. “It’s so embarrassing.”

  The top two buttons of his dress shirt, undone. For Dexter, this is as laid-back and casual as he gets. He does own tee shirts; I’ve seen them in his closet, and a few times on the weekends. But he likes to be dressed up. Pressed. Tidy.

  It’s my job to muss him up.

  I press my mouth against his neck for a quick kiss, sniffing his deliciously male cologne. His woodsy shampoo. “Mmm, you smell good.”

  “Daphne, stop. You’re going to make me—”

  “—Hard?”

  I love how open he is now; how uninhibited we are together. How honest and affectionate.

  “Just hearing you say that word makes it worse.” The low baritone of his voice gets lower, and he watches when I bite down on my lower lip, dragging my teeth back and forth.

  I glance down the dark hallway off the living room, one eyebrow raised in thought. “Want to check out the spare bedroom?”

  My meaning is clear.

  Dexter swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing and eyes rapidly getting hazy behind the rim of his glasses. Sexy Dexy indeed.

  He gives a curt nod. Yes.

  Grabs my hand. Hauls me down the dark corridor to the second door on the left, my body humming with need and anticipation with what’s going to happen when we close the door to that dark spare room behind us.

  Door locked, it’s empty and pitch black.

  Eyes straining, I can barely make out any furniture, let alone Dexter’s fingers when he finds the tie of my emerald green wrap dress—the one I borrowed from Tabitha, fell into like with, and haven’t given back. Wrapped around my waist, the soft cotton fits my body like a second skin, flattering my curves to perfection.

  Large hands slide across the bare skin between the plunging wrap neckline, sliding into the cup of my bra, palm gently kneading my breast. Heaven. It feels like heaven.

  Muffled sounds reverberate from the party outside, but we don’t care.

  “You’re so sexy,” he purrs in the dark, his lips finding purchase on my collarbone. “I’ve been wanting to touch you all night. Untie this dress and have my way with you.”

  “Yes,” I breath into his mouth with a sigh; the mouth that I dream about each and every night; those lips that make all the aching in my body go away.

  At some point I’m lifted onto the top of a dresser.

  Fumbling hands find his belt buckle. Unzip his fly. Push the dark, dressy denim down his lean hips along with his navy boxer-briefs. Untie the sash around my waist. Push apart the cotton of my dress. Push aside my lacey, nude underwear.

  My hands roam his torso, his taunt abs, his firm pecs.

  I love his body.

  I love his glasses.

  I love his mind.

  “I love you,” I whisper when he pushes into me with a loud groan, condoms forgone when we became exclusive (not that there was any doubt we wouldn’t be).

  He thrusts once, then stills. “Did you just say that you love me?”

  “Yes.” I bob my head in the dark even though he can’t see me. “Yes, yes, I love you.” I wriggle my pelvis, hoping to urge him on.

  He pulls out slowly. Pushes in slowly.

  Again and again and again.

  “God Daphne, oh god.” He buries his nose in my hair, inhaling with a long drag. “I’m so in love with you.”

  Rocking. Pushing. Pulling.

  The dresser hits the wall with every mad thrust, our loud
moans and mutters drowned out only by the sound of party-goers in the next room. Vaguely I hear Tabitha’s distinctive laugh, but my neck is rolling to the side and I’m drunk on the oxytocin surging through my body.

  “I love you… oh! Oh god… mmmm…”

  Bang.

  Bang.

  Bang. A picture on the wall behind my back falls, hits the hard wooden top of the dresser, and crashes to the ground with the telltale sound of broken glass.

  We don’t care.

  We can’t stop.

  “Oh shit, oh fuck,” Dexter grunts when we come at the same time. A wet kiss is planted at my temple, his chest heaving from his accelerated heart rate.

  Then, after a lengthy silence, “How are we going to explain that broken whatever-that-is to Collin and Tabitha?”

  He pulls away from my body, and I fumble to find the ties of my dress. “I’ll probably just tell her the truth. I don’t think she’ll be mad.”

  I hear the sound of his zipper being pulled up, his belt being buckled. “Where’s the damn light switch?”

  Hands pat the wall, his voice fading as he nears the door.

  The lights go on.

  I blink rapidly to block out the blinding light, seeing nothing but…

  Pink.

  Pink, pink and more pink.

  A white crib against the wall. A rocking chair with a little gray stuffed elephant in the corner. The letters “LKE” monogrammed in white, interlocking script in the center of the opposite, powder pink wall.

  “Holy. Shit.” Dexter breaths.

  My mouth falls open, and I slap my hand over it to conceal my dread. “Oh my god. We just sullied a baby nursery with our fornicating!”

  Which means…

  “Oh my god. Tabitha is pregnant.”

  And not just pregnant—but pregnant pregnant. As in: she must be at least twenty weeks along if they already know the sex, have picked out a name, and decorated an entire nursery.

  All the pieces of the puzzle slide into place: new bigger condo closer to the suburbs. Tabitha quitting her day job and writing from home. Collin taking that desk job at his firm so he wouldn’t have to do any more traveling.

  Her loose fitting shirt. Collin practically glued to her side all night, fawning all over her.

  This party.

  “Oh my god,” I repeat with a horrified gasp. “Dexter. They’re telling everyone tonight. That’s what this is.”

  “A baby.” We say the words together in wonderment.

  “A girl,” I breathe, the first twinge of envy planted inside my soul.

  “Holy shit.” He’s rooted to the floor. “Collin is having a fucking baby.”

  He says it with such shock that I can’t help but wonder…

  “Do…” I gulp nervously, smoothing a hand down my dress to flatten the wrinkles out. “Do you want kids?”

  I have to ask because, well. I do. Want kids, that is—so terribly. And I might only be twenty-five years old, but my biological clock has been ticking since the moment I met Dexter.

  He is it for me.

  “Of course I want kids.”

  I am it for him; I can see it in his eyes.

  Hormones raging, our shy gazes meet.

  Then our mouths clash.

  “I love—” I murmur into the corner of his mouth.

  “—You.”

  “We can’t stay in here.” One of us whispers.

  “How are we going to—”

  “—Look them in the eye?”

  Eventually we come up for air, fixing our clothes, and my long hair. One last, long lingering kiss before together, we step through the door.

  Daphne loves me.

  Yeah, we’ve been dating for the past few months, but I didn’t actually think she’d be the one to blurt it out first; I assumed it would be me.

  And now that I know, I can’t stop watching her from across the room. My girlfriend. My best friend.

  Loves me.

  I watch as she flits from aunt to uncle, to college friends. I watch as she shimmies to the make-shift bar and pours herself a glass of wine. Grabs a beer from the ice bucket.

  Watch as she makes her way towards me, this beautiful, gorgeous woman.

  I push the glasses up my nose, shifting my focus to Collin as he leans in and whispers something in Tabitha’s ear. She nods, biting her lower lip.

  He clears his throat, preparing to speak, and I know exactly what’s about to come next.

  Daphne makes it to my side in time, handing me a beer bottle as Collin announces, “Everyone. Can I have your attention for a second?”

  His arm goes protectively around Tabitha, and now that I know their secret, my eyes fly to her stomach. Straining to glean any signs of a baby bump, but not seeing one.

  “First of all, thank you all for coming on such short notice. We have some exciting news that we didn’t want to share online, and we’re glad you could all make it.” His voice breaks with a crack, emotion playing with every breath taken. “Tabitha and I… we…”

  He looks at his parents.

  Her parents.

  Tabitha reaches between them and clasps his hand and I see him squeeze it.

  Solidarity.

  A team.

  “Tabitha and I…” he begins again, clearing his throat and blowing out a puff of air. “We haven’t been together long—not even a year, but when you know, you know, right?” The small gathered crowd chuckles. “For me, meeting Tabitha was love at first sight.”

  The room gives a collective ‘Awwwww.’

  Collin looks over at me, and our eyes meet. I’ve known the guy almost my entire life and I can say with certainly that right now, he might sound confident—but he definitely looks like he’s going to barf.

  I give him a firm, You got this, buddy and an encouraging thumbs up.

  Message received. “Anyway, we brought you here to tell you that… we’re in love and, well. There’s no easy way to say this, so… Mom. Dad. Everyone—we got married at the courthouse last week and… we’re having a baby!”

  For a second, no one moves.

  The room is deafeningly silent.

  “Surprise!” Tabitha radiates joy, hands flying to her belly.

  But then…

  Both their mothers start to cry. All at once, everyone starts hugging. Excited chatter, a champagne bottle is uncorked and flies across the room. Wine is being poured.

  It’s a veritable love fest.

  Greyson and Cal sidle up to Daphne and I get elbowed in the ribs by Collin’s stunning kid sister.

  She chuckles. “Well, since we’re all sharing news, this might be a good time to go tell my parents Cal and I are moving in together this summer. There’s no way they can get mad at us after that little announcement!”

  With a laugh, they head off towards their parents, hand-in-hand.

  “Wow, this whole night has been surreal,” Daphne says beside me, leaning into me when I slide my arm around her waist. “First my friends all fall in love, then they’re moving in together, then they’re having babies…”

  I plant a kiss on the top of her head. “We’ll get there.”

  Her breath hitches. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  She beams up at me, smiling wide. “I love you so much.”

  “I love you, too.”

  And you know what?

  We do get there.

  Exactly seventeen months and four days later.

  I kept teasing my friend Christine (who does my proofreading, Facebook page, and basically helps manage my life) that i was going to start my acknowledgements with, “My Dearest Christine….” So. Here it goes.

  My Dearest Christine, thank you for being part of the ‘we.’ I look forward to many adventures (and travels?!) together. Hint hint. Thanks for shedding that one tiny, solitary tear when you read the last lines of this book. It was an awkward moment for both of us, but it meant the world to me.

  Thank you, as always, to my Beta’s: Nikki Kroll, Ch
ristine, and M.E. Carter

  Seriously. Without your feedback, the story is never quite as good, and I value your comments. Especially the ones that say: Seriously? Are you trying to drive me nuts? OMG Stop using the word [fill in the blank]

  Thank you Shawn Garcia and Crystal Graham – who drove all the way to see me in Dallas, and trusted me with their purses while they worked the crowd. Er, I mean, book signing…

  A huge thank you to Murphy Rae & Julie at JT Formatting, for well… you know.

  Sorry I’m not more organized.

  And as always, thank you, readers and family: I write for you.

  For more information about Sara Ney and her books, visit:

  Facebook

  Twitter

  Goodreads

  Website

  Other Titles by Sara

  The Kiss and Make Up Series

  Kissing in Cars

  He Kissed Me First

  A Kiss Like This

  #ThreeLittleLies Series

  Things Liars Say

  Things Liars Hide

  Things Liars Fake

  With M.E. Carter

  FriendTrip

  FriendTrip: WeddedBliss (a FriendTrip novella)

 

 

 


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