Lie to Me

by Preston, Natasha

Heidi leans over Savannah’s shoulder. “Sorry, she’s crazy.”

  Savannah turns back to my sister, and it’s only then that I realise how much she turned toward me, too. Her whole body was practically facing straight on.

  “No, she’s sweet. It’s nice that she cares so much about you.”

  Did Savannah’s mum stop caring about her?

  Heidi’s eyes widen, but she laughs. “I suppose she means well. Are you up for getting wasted here tonight? I think I’m going to need to.”

  Savannah laughs, tilting her head to the side. She holds up her cocktail. “I’m definitely up for that.” Twisting back, she adds, “Kent, are you getting drunk with us?” Her mouth snaps shut, and she goes statue-still, like she’s just realised that she basically asked me to get drunk with her.

  I swallow.

  Her stormy grey eyes stare back at me.

  “Sure,” I breathe, somehow finding myself agreeing.

  “You three are going out?” Mum says.

  I jump, startled, and my gaze snaps away from Savannah.

  “No, we’re staying here longer.” I clear my throat since it feels like I swallowed concrete. “When I take my sister to a club to meet strangers, I won’t be drunk. I need to make sure they’re not dickheads.”

  “Language,” Brooke sings, smirking at me.

  She looks between me and Savannah with a look she got straight from Mum. They both look happy. Mum is beaming, her eyes wide and fucking glowing.

  I turn away from them all.

  Nope. Not happening.

  7

  Savannah

  What is going on tonight?

  Between Heidi’s no-boundaries mother and a couple of moments—or what I perceive as moments—with Kent, I’m ready to run away. There have definitely been some looks between us; I’m not imagining that.

  Judy keeps the cocktails coming though, which I’m extremely grateful for, as she has absolutely no problem with asking personal questions. I don’t know how long I can be around her because I have no clue how I will handle it if she asks questions I can’t answer. Some things that happen in life are too much to bear. Some people can work through any obstacle or heartache and come out stronger, but for others, all you can do to keep breathing is pretend.

  I’m counting on Heidi or Kent to stop her when she asks something I sure as hell won’t be answering. So far, she’s not touched on my family. No one knows the truth. They all think I’m just not close with my parents and that I cut them out of my life.

  It’s not a total lie. They don’t know I have a sibling, grandparents, and an aunt and uncle. Hell, they think I’ve only ever dated once. I’ve had a very serious relationship.

  Just the one. Never again.

  I glance at the kitchen door on the far wall. Come on, bring our damn food. How long have we been here? We put our food order in about twenty minutes ago. It must be coming soon.

  Kent has been weird with me since our most recent moment. I don’t think anything would have happened if we hadn’t been interrupted, but I can’t be sure. He jumped away from me, and since then, all I can see of him is his shoulder and the back of his head. He’s deep in conversation with Freddy.

  Though I have a feeling, the football conversation Kent initiated is a smoke screen. He’s worried his mum will pick up on what happened. I saw her delighted expression though. Thankfully and probably by some miracle, she hasn’t made a comment.

  I won’t relax until we’re out of here though.

  “You seem tense,” Heidi whispers as she leans in.

  She’s perceptive.

  Giving her a fleeting smile, I grab my cocktail. “I’m fine. Just hungry.”

  And waiting for your mum’s questions makes me anxious as hell.

  If I refuse to answer, they’ll know something is up.

  “Yeah, the food doesn’t usually take this long to come out here.”

  Great.

  In front of us, Bobby stretches his arms over his head. “So, ladies, is it invite-only to drinks after dinner?”

  I stiffen. The guy is a lazy creep, and he keeps staring at me, so I have no desire to spend any time around him when he’s drunk.

  Yes. Heidi, please say it’s invite-only!

  Kent bumps into my arm as he straightens up, and out of the corner of my eye, I see him turn our way.

  “Nah, you can join us, bro,” he replies. His mouth tightens as he glances at me, like he knows how awkward I feel around Bobby.

  Did he do that on purpose?

  Why would he? I mean, he’s not my number one fan, but surely, he wouldn’t be that spiteful. As if anything he does or says still surprises me. He blows hot and cold constantly.

  “Ace!” Bobby cheers, his eyes landing on me as he dips his chin. I think he’s supposed to look seductive, but he looks psychotic.

  Yeah. Ace.

  Heidi strikes up a conversation with Bobby, so I turn to the devil himself.

  “What was that?” I hiss.

  God, he makes confrontation, something I usually hate, so bloody easy.

  “It’s not a private party, Savannah.”

  “I know that, but I’ve seen you press your lips together so that you won’t react to him. Why would you want to spend more time with him? Unless it’s because you know I don’t want to.”

  His eyes darken. “Oh, it’s all about you, isn’t it?”

  “I never said that.”

  “Get over yourself, Savannah,” he snaps. His voice is quiet, but there’s no mistaking the malice.

  “Whatever,” I mutter, shaking my head and turning away from him. I rub my forehead, relieving the tension.

  Is there something wrong with Kent to make him so back and forth? If there were, Heidi probably would have mentioned it, so Kent wouldn’t seem so cold and, well, dead inside.

  “How long have you lived this way, Savannah? You’re not from around here originally, are you?” Judy asks.

  I lick my lips. “About three years. I love it here. This city is quite small, but there’s so much going on.”

  Judy shakes her head. “Heidi and Kent love the city, too. We’re just outside, where there’s a hell of a lot more greenery.”

  “Heidi said your place is amazing. Is it on a farm?”

  “Not quite. We just have a lot of land. No animals. I’m not an animal person. You must come next week for dinner.”

  Beside me, Kent freezes.

  He doesn’t want me to go, so against my better judgment, I find myself nodding. “I would really like that.”

  To be honest, it is nice, spending more time with Heidi and her family, besides Kent. As long as her mum doesn’t push, I’m more than happy to be alone less often.

  I’m not too ashamed to admit that I miss having people around. Not necessarily my family—they suck—but I’ve missed the family dynamic. It’s nice to see even if it does make me long for it.

  Again, not the ones I was born to.

  “Great!” Judy claps her hands together. “Kent lives closer to you, so he can drive you.”

  I grit my teeth and smile at her. I’m not going to get into it with her, but I’m definitely getting a taxi.

  “I don’t know if I’m coming yet, Mum,” Kent says.

  I bloody bet his sudden indecisiveness is a direct result of his mum inviting me.

  Arsehole.

  Judy’s lips purse, and her eyes tighten. It’s the look my mum used to give me and my sister when we did something wrong in public. It’s the substitute-for-yelling look.

  Kent grinds his teeth but makes the intelligent decision not to bite back to his mum. It’s a bit strange, seeing his interaction with his mum. Before I met her, I would never think there was a person in this world who could make him back down.

  She’s great.

  After eating, we order more drinks, two each actually, and I sip my fifth—I think it’s the fifth—cocktail as the atmosphere around me warms and turns kind of fluffy.

  Yes, everything is fluffy.
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  Heidi is hilarious, more so after many of the fruity pink drinks like the one I have in my hand.

  Kent is sitting a bit closer than usual. He’s angled his body toward me, and I can smell his aftershave. It’s very nice, very manly, and kind of going to my head more than the alcohol.

  Brooke and Freddy are currently arguing over whether they should feed each other cake at their reception or not. Judy, Harrold, and Heidi get involved, but Kent and I stay out of it.

  “What would you do?” I ask Kent, tilting my head to the side.

  He shrugs. “Eat the cake.”

  “Right! I personally don’t see how anyone wouldn’t want to be fed cake.”

  Chuckling, he necks a long swig of beer, his forehead creasing, almost like he doesn’t want to be laughing with me. We’re getting on—at this particular second—and I don’t know if I’m just paranoid, but it seems almost like he feels like we shouldn’t.

  Or maybe I just need more to drink.

  “You don’t look like you love cake.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  His eyes rake over my body, lingering on my breasts.

  Well, the cake isn’t going to go to them!

  “Hey!” I snap, clicking my fingers in front of him.

  With a smirk, he looks up. “Apologies.” He doesn’t look sorry.

  “These are really good,” I say, holding up my drink.

  “I can tell. How are you getting home?”

  “Uber.”

  “You’re going to Uber drunk?”

  “Yeah. Why not?”

  “You know that Uber is just people off the street, right? I could sign up,” he says.

  “Yes, but you’re not people off the street.”

  He rolls his eyes. “My point, Savannah, is that someone could take advantage of you.”

  “Someone could do that when I’m sober, too.”

  “Okay, we’ll Uber together and drop you off first.”

  “Didn’t you drive? You can’t drive now. You’ve had a lot to drink.”

  “I took a taxi. In fact, we’ll take a taxi.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Yeah.” I giggle. “I want to Uber. That’s a funny word.”

  “Definitely not going home alone,” he mutters, shaking his head but grinning.

  I take another sip and smile. He smells good. And his eyes are nice; they’re bluer today. I like them bluer. And greener.

  Work is hell. Drinking is hell. Well, the morning after drinking is hell.

  Staying after dinner to drink was a stupid idea. It’s nine in the morning, but it feels like the middle of the night, like I should have at least another thirteen hours to sleep.

  This morning, I feel like I shouldn’t have stayed out last night. What was I thinking?

  I used to be able to go out and drink way more than I did, and I would be fine. In the last few years, I’ve only had wine and gin occasionally in the evenings, so I’ve not been drunk.

  Jesus, I’m seriously out of practice because my head feels like someone has a mallet smashing around in there.

  Groaning, I rub my temples as Kent crashes around in the storeroom. He’s doing it on purpose because both Heidi and I are dying. He can hold his drink.

  “I’m going to kill him,” Heidi mutters, laying her head on her desk. She wraps her arms around her head and adds, “I’m going to get his drill and shove it through his chest.”

  Okay, maybe I do hungover a little better than her.

  “He hasn’t been this loud before, has he?” I ask just as Kent walks into the main studio.

  “Suffering, Savannah?” He looks up and sees Heidi. “Oh, come on, not you, too.”

  “Go away,” she mutters. “Better still, make coffee, and then go away.”

  “Strong black coffee,” I say.

  Kent rolls his beautiful turquoise eyes. With the grey on his top, his eyes are definitely leaning more toward blue today. “You two should be ashamed. You’re in your twenties.”

  “Savannah’s worse. She’s only twenty-two, and I’m twenty-eight.”

  “You need more practice. Want to come out tomorrow night?” he asks.

  “No,” Heidi and I reply simultaneously.

  My heart races at his offer, but right this second, I genuinely do not ever want to leave my apartment again. I wasn’t at all prepared for a hangover. Sometimes, I’ve woken with a dry mouth and dull headache before but nothing like this. How do hungover-prone people do this every week?

  “You know you’re doing your twenties wrong, don’t you?”

  I lift my eyes to his, wincing as the bright spotlights above me burn my eyes. “How should we be doing it?”

  “You should be going out more than you’re staying in.”

  “Okay, so we’re doing it wrong,” I say, turning to Heidi. “Not that I care.”

  “You’re a real ray of sunshine, aren’t you?” Kent says. His voice is light but holds a little tightness.

  It’s hard to tell if he’s teasing, but I think he is. Right now, I care even less than usual about what he thinks of me.

  “I’m hungover. There will be no sunshine today.”

  He laughs. “You should change that.”

  I can’t say I don’t agree with him. There is so much I should do, so much work I have to do on myself so that I can be somewhat proud of the person I am, but I don’t know where to start. Adding light to a shadow just makes it disappear.

  It’s been hard enough, picking myself off the floor and building a new life from nothing, let alone holding on to the happy-go-lucky person I once was.

  “I agree; we should do it more often,” Heidi replies. “But I need to recover first. I don’t want to even think about alcohol for a couple of days.” She stands up. “I should get to this meeting with the landlord. Fingers crossed, he doesn’t raise the rent … or I don’t throw up in his face.”

  She grabs her bag and heads out. Then, I’m alone with Kent.

  “Did you want that coffee?” he asks. “I’m making.”

  What? “Er, yeah. Thanks.”

  “Why are you surprised by that?”

  I clear my throat and get to my feet. “Well, you’re hardly full of sunshine either.”

  “I am a fucking delight,” he replies.

  He tries to be serious, but his lips kick at the sides. It makes me smile, too.

  Laughing, I grab my empty mug from the desk. “Oh, yeah.”

  Kent follows me around the wall into the kitchen area. I fill the kettle, and he grabs himself a mug from the cupboard. He seems to know his way around here, making himself at home.

  “So, what do you do? You know, when you’re not building storage units for your sister.”

  “Software,” he replies, too busy messing around with coffee and sugar to give me more information than that.

  “Okay,” I mutter. “Do you like what you do?”

  “Sure.”

  I fold my arms and turn to him. “Do you think I should take my top off?”

  His hand freezes midair as he was about to pour a spoonful of coffee into my mug. Beautiful eyes peer over at me. “You think I wasn’t listening?”

  “Well, you were only giving bored, one-worded replies.”

  “You were asking boring questions.”

  “Fine,” I huff. “What age were you when you lost your virginity?” My eyes widen the second the words escape my lips. Did I actually ask that? What the hell business is it of mine how old he was when he first had sex?

  Kent’s eyebrow lifts. “Much better, Savannah. I was fifteen. How old were you?”

  “Fifteen,” I reply.

  I had been with Simon for eight months, and it was about two months before my sixteenth. We were going to wait, but … well, things happened. At the time, I didn’t regret it, but boy, do I now.

  “Really?” His voice picks up, portraying his surprise.

  “Yes, really.”

  “Did you come?”

  “What the hell, K
ent?” I gasp.

  Who asks that question? It’s private, and the very fact that he asked shows how arrogant he is.

  Chuckling, he leans against the counter and crosses his arms. “We’re asking interesting questions, remember? Not many women come the first time.”

  “I don’t think you understand the definition of interesting.”

  “I do, and I also know it’s subjective.”

  Jesus, arguing with him is exhausting.

  “Did you come, Savannah?”

  My cheeks prickle with heat. “No,” I admit. And I didn’t come the next three thousand times we had sex either.

  Simon wasn’t bad in bed. I always had a good time, but I needed a little more to get me off. I’m not sure why that’s any of Kent’s business though.

  “I would have made you come.”

  Rolling my eyes, I drop my arms and pour water from the kettle into our mugs. “Of course you would have.”

  “You disbelieve me?”

  “I so don’t want to go down this road. It doesn’t matter because, one, I can’t get my virginity back, and, two, I’m not going to sleep with you.”

  “Don’t be so sure, sweetheart.”

  “If you think the cocky thing impresses me, think again. Being an arrogant prick isn’t the way to get into my pants.”

  His smile grows. “What makes you think I want to get in your pants?”

  “You’re not exactly subtle, Kent.”

  “Neither are you.”

  I put the kettle down. Staring at the steam rising from the mugs, I ask, “What does that mean?”

  “It means, you’re not fooling me.”

  I stir our coffee, my heart racing a hundred miles an hour. What does he mean by that? “I’m not trying to fool anyone.”

  Kent doesn’t respond. Seconds tick by as I stir the coffee for much longer than necessary. His silence only makes me more nervous.

  How much does he know about me? He can’t know my whole story, or he would have definitely said something about it.

  From now on, I need to keep my distance from him.

  8

  Kent

  I step back and admire my handiwork. The cupboards and shelves are done. Two walls in this room are completely covered by storage. Heidi will barely be able to fill half of it, so hopefully, I won’t have to come back anytime soon to put anything else together.