Changing Everything (Forgiving Lies #2.5)(2)

Eli’s face pinched together like he’d eaten something sour, and before he said something that would inevitably crush me even more tonight, I tried to speak his latest pick’s language. “Ohmigod, like, ew, right?”

Kristen’s hand flew to her mouth as beer sprayed out, and Eli’s lack-of-amused expression let me know that he knew what I was doing.

At least I didn’t feel like I was going to throw up anymore.

“Threesomes are so way gross,” I continued, not like I’d know. But the girl nodded her head and pursed her lips.

“So, like, is she gonna watch?” she asked, and it took everything in me not to shoot Eli a look that said: Really? This is what you want?

“No, she’s not, and there’s no threesome. This is my best friend, Paisley, I drove her.”

The girl laughed awkwardly and ran her hand up Eli’s chest. “Well, can’t she get, like, a ride home or something?”

Of course I could, and it was something that happened often when Eli decided he wanted to drive me somewhere—because chances were he was going to end up leaving with someone else, and I always offered to stick around. But I knew right then, as did Kristen, judging by her snort, that I wouldn’t be getting a ride home with anyone other than Eli, and this girl had just made sure her night with Eli was over.

Eli’s eyes widened and he blinked slowly before looking down at the girl. “No, she can’t. I just told you, she’s my best friend. She came with me, and she’s going to be leaving with me . . . you won’t.”

“Are you serious?” she scoffed when Eli moved her arm away.

“Time to go.” Eli’s eyes were hard, and his voice was soft and dark. He was so pissed at me.

I cleared my throat and looked away from him. “Uh, I think I’m gonna stay with Kris—”

“Truck, Paisley.”

Crap. Kristen and I exchanged a glance as I grabbed my purse and avoided looking at the livid girl still standing there. From her speech that showed how much her bleaching had lowered her IQ, I had no doubt she was still trying to figure out what all this meant.

Following Eli out to his truck, I worried my bottom lip the closer we got without him ever saying a word. Usually if a girl suggested he should leave me behind, and we left immediately after, Eli couldn’t shut up about the girl’s boldness. For him to not say a word only solidified the fact that he was mad about the way I’d responded to her.

I don’t know what he expected from me. He chose the most ridiculous girls—and that had nothing to do with the fact that I wanted him to choose me. Okay, maybe a little, but I’m pretty sure the girl just now used the foundation color burnt orange, and had been dropped on her head way too many times as a baby.

Eli didn’t need to go for the stupid, slutty girls. He was smart, had an incredible job in advertising, wore suits most of the time because of said job, and had women of all ages turning their heads to look at him.

But I knew why he went for them more often than not . . . because the majority of them didn’t expect anything from him after that night.

We were driving out of the parking lot before he said anything. As always, his voice was calm, but his tone let me know he was anything but.

“What was that?”

“What?” I countered, and crossed my arms as I stared out the window.

“Paisley,” he growled in warning.

I huffed and turned so my back was against the door and I was facing him. “Come on, Eli, she was awful—even by your standards. You know there are girls here in Yorba Linda who actually look human.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“She had white lipstick and orange foundation. She was one bad encounter with green Jell-O powder away from being an Oompa-Loompa. Actually, you should be thanking me. If anything, I saved you from catching herpes or something.”

Eli’s lips tilted up in the corners, and when he spoke again, I knew his anger was slowly fading. “That doesn’t mean you need to make fun of her.”

You don’t need to flaunt all of them in front of me either, I thought lamely. I sighed and rested the back of my head against the window. “She didn’t notice.”

“I did.”

I stayed silent for a long time after and curled my legs up to my chest, trying to ignore the way I felt hearing his disappointment in me. Looking up when the truck stopped, I dropped my legs and cocked my head.

“Uh . . .”

He didn’t say anything as he got out and rounded the front to open my door.

“Are you not taking me home?”

“Nope.” Pulling me out of the truck, he grabbed on to my wrist and began towing me into his apartment.

“Eli,” I complained, and tried to pull back. He just grabbed me up in his arms and started jogging—like I weighed nothing at all. “Put me down!” I demanded, but I couldn’t stop laughing from the uncomfortable bouncing.

“Open.” Dropping the keys on my stomach, he quickly moved his arm back to continue holding me.

I fumbled for the keys and had to steady my breathing and focus on each key as I tried to find the correct one. It’s not like I hadn’t opened this door thousands of times, but he was breathing heavy and holding me in his arms, and about to walk me into his apartment—and I was turning into the girl he’d been with at the bar. I wasn’t sure I knew how to count to unicorn.