Forgiving Lies (Forgiving Lies #1)(19)



Kash . . . Logan—whatever his name was—stopped sucking on his lip ring and I had the strangest urge to take over that lovely task for him. “You know, we could always turn that around and say you tried to ruin my bike.”

“You pulled into the spot way too fast, and I’d been opening my door!”

“Fast? Sweetheart, I promise I wasn’t going fast, and I’d already been turning in before you opened your door. It’s not my fault you threw your door open.”

“I did not throw my door open! And don’t call me sweetheart. You don’t know me.”

“Uh, Rach. You do kinda throw your door open.”

“Candice.” I turned to look at her and gave her a Whose side are you on? look. “So not helping right now!”

“So,” Mason said loudly, and clapped his hands, “I’m starving. We going?”

Just as I was about to say I was going to stay home, and actually mean it this time, Candice grabbed my hand and walked me toward the door. “Yep!”

I turned, waiting for Logan to exit the apartment so I could lock the door, and found him directly in front of me. I inhaled sharply, and his eyes slowly worked their way down my body and back up. When his liquid-steel eyes met mine, I swear I shivered and my skin was instantly covered with goose bumps. That stupid smirk came back and I narrowed my eyes at him as I tried to ignore the way my heart was pounding.

Calm down, Rachel. He’s annoying, and he’s not even cute. Those eyes do not put you in a daze, that smile does not pierce you to the floor. You do not want to bite down on that ring on the left side of his bottom lip. You do not want to rip his shirt off to see the muscles that fill it out perfectly. And you do not want to spend hours studying his tattoo sleeves. Not. At. All.

Candice couldn’t have been more obvious when she suggested we take my Jeep or that Logan ride in front with me. But there was no point in arguing. Candice always got her way. Obviously.

“So, let’s take the guys to the Oasis, Rach. That way they can see the lake.”

Thank God I hadn’t started driving yet, because I slammed on the brake even though I was still in park. “No!” Everyone in the car jerked back. “I mean, um . . . it’s just always so crowded there. And on a summer night, it’s gonna be crazy.” Anything that reminded me of Blake, I definitely wanted to avoid.

“Oh . . . kay. Well then.” Candice thought for a second before saying warily, “Are you going to freak out if I suggest Hula Hut?”

“No, I’m not. And I—I didn’t freak out.”

“Whatever, Rachel. Just drive.”

I glanced in the rearview mirror to see her give me a Cool it look before turning to whisper in Mason’s ear.

“Hey, are you gonna be okay to drive?” Logan asked softly in my ear. “You look sick all of a sudden.”

“Thanks,” I said through clenched teeth, and shot him a glare as I backed out of my space.

“I didn’t— Jesus,” he huffed, and sat back. “Forget it.”

I took a shaky breath in and held it for a few seconds before releasing it. I knew I was being rude. But it was like I couldn’t stop. “So why’d you tell me your name is Kash if it’s Logan? Are you a part of some motorcycle gang or something and you got stuck with the shitty nickname? Or do you just sing like Johnny Cash?” He definitely had a voice deep and smooth enough for that to be a possibility.

Logan made a noise between a scoff and a laugh and shook his head. “First off, they’re called motorcycle clubs, not gangs. And no, I’m not a part of one; I just love motorcycles. Second, you were wrong earlier, and you’re wrong now. Kash isn’t a nickname. It’s my middle name, and I’ve gone by Kash my entire life. It was my grandpa’s name.”

Oh sweet baby Jesus, someone please give me a time machine so I can restart today. “Um . . .” I tilted my head to the side and grimaced. “I’m just going to throw myself out of the car now.”

“Didn’t mean to make you think I’d lied to you or something. Mason was the one who introduced us to your roommate and I was on my way out to fill my bike up with gas, so I didn’t have time to talk to her. He always introduces me as Logan. Not really sure why.”

“I’m really sorry. I’ve—” I quickly broke off. There was no point in explaining I’d had a bad day. I’d been a bitch, and there was really no excuse for that. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“So,” I said a couple minutes later, “you just moved in? Are you from the Austin area, or . . .” I trailed off and glanced over to see him sucking on the damn lip ring again. Why was that so hot?

“Ah, no. We’re from . . . far East Texas.”

Vague. “Um. Okay. What brought you here?”

“Change of pace mostly. How about you? You from the area?”

“We’re from far West Texas.” I let that linger for a moment before turning and shooting him a grin. “Otherwise known as California.”

“Smart-ass.” He smiled wide and I forced my eyes back on the road. Oh Lord, that smile was perfect. “Let me guess. College?”

“Yep.”

“Isn’t it summer? Wouldn’t you want to go home during vacation?”

Molly McAdams's Books