Cheater (Curious Liaisons, #1)(53)

I would be defending him to the one woman who I could never measure up to.

And I had to sell it all like he loved me.

When I never stood a chance. Never would.

Shoot. I still didn’t know what I was going to say.

I chewed my lower lip and quickly dialed Lucas’s number, thankful that he’d actually added it to my contacts.

“Miss me already?” he crooned.

I rolled my eyes and absolutely hated that my lips curved into a happy smile while my heart did that little leap and thud against my chest. “How do I explain us?”

“Huh?”

“I may be having dinner with Kayla.”

Absolute silence. And then he said, “Did you just say you’re having dinner with Kayla?”

“Yes.” I closed my eyes and willed my headache away. “Because your mom has a huge mouth, no offense, and doesn’t understand the concept of secrecy, she mentioned something to my mom, remember? If my voice mails from my irate mother are any indication, it took your mother less than twenty-four hours to try to mend the bond between our families and plan our engagement party. You know, the one we lied about not being able to make because we’re taking that trip to South America to save the children?”

“I don’t recall having this conversation at all.”

“Exactly!” I jabbed my finger in the air. “That’s twice I’ve saved your reputation—you can thank me later. Actually, thank me in the form of giving me an amazing review for my internship. This is above and beyond, Thorn!”

“We’re going to South America?”

“No, not really. You know what? I don’t have time for this. Just tell me what I’ll need to say to turn Kayla’s frown upside down. I’ve always been awkward with her when it comes to relationships, especially with you.”

He sighed. “She’s your sister. Don’t you have like magic sister-speak?”

I paused. “No, idiot, we don’t! We’re not exactly close. Stop asking stupid questions and just tell me what to say!”

He sighed again. “Okay, um.”

“Wow, Lucas, don’t talk so fast—I can’t keep up!”

“Stop being such a smart-ass.” I could practically hear his eyes rolling. “Okay, how about”—he sounded nervous—“how about this . . .”

“I’m waiting.”

“You’re also annoying, and yet here I am, talking to you.”

“Thorn!’

“I’ve always had a thing for you.” His voice was confident, smooth. “I ignored my feelings because I’d never dated anyone but Kayla, and once you and I reconnected at work, things just sort of happened. We fought it for—”

“—a day,” I finished, wishing it were true and hating myself more than I cared to admit for being that weak over a man who said the same nice things to every girl he slept with during a one-week period.

“Right,” he fessed up. “After all, you can’t control these things, or plan for them. Some things just happen.”

“Yeah.” Why were my eyes welling with tears? WHY? “They do.”

He coughed. “Is that good enough, Avery Bug?”

I clenched my eyes shut and opened them to see Kayla standing in front of me. “Gotta go,” I said into the phone.

“Hey where are you anyway—”

I hung up and pasted a smile on my face as Kayla and I hugged awkwardly.

“Who was that?” she asked, her gaze zeroing in on the phone still clenched in my hand.

“Plumber,” I announced. “Getting those pipes cleaned, and you know how I feel about tools.”

Her face cracked into a smile. “You wouldn’t know what to do with a wrench if it hit you in the face and came with voice-automated instructions.”

I held my hands in the air. “It’s not my job to wield man tools.”

“So”—she shrugged and gestured at the restaurant—“this looks nice.”

“It’s awesome.” When I looped my arm through hers, she stiffened, once again reminding me that I wasn’t her favorite sister. I wasn’t the one who had anything in common with her. I was the outcast, little Avery Bug, with her sports and her braces. Pulling away would have made things more awkward, so I held my chin high as we walked into Lowell’s together.

The hostess seated us at a nice table for four in the back corner, which was dark enough to cover any sort of bloodstains, in case Kayla decided to turn her steak knife on me.

She ordered a glass of wine, and I got the same thing, not because I wanted it, but so Kayla wouldn’t have to drink alone.

She stared down at the table.

Kayla’s reddish-blonde hair was pulled into a low, tight bun. She wore minimal makeup, and her black slacks and black blouse made her appear more sophisticated than I could ever hope to look. Even on a teacher’s salary, she was dressed like some millionaire’s wife out having drinks after spending all day on her veranda getting fed grapes.

“So”—she sipped her wine and stared at her fork—“you and Lucas.”

Here we go.

Just say what Lucas said and explain the story, make it sound real. Except. It wasn’t real. None of it.

I opened my mouth just as someone approached our table.