Things Liars Fake: a Novella (a #ThreeLittleLies novella Book 3)(24)

Her voice trails off.

“Plus… what?” I’m desperate for her to finish that sentence; it holds so much possibility.

Daphne looks up and out into the dark side yard. “Plus. I—This is going to sound so lame.”

God I want to reach out and touch her. “No it won’t.”

“I thought we could be friends.”

Friends.

Friends?

Fuck.

Hey, I’m a smart guy—not completely delusional—and know my chances of dating someone like Daphne Winthrop are slim to none; but a guy can dream. It’s not like I’m lying in bed at night, closing my eyes and jerking-off while picturing her naked in my mind.

Okay, I am—but it was only once.

Fine. Three times.

With a resound sigh, I motion towards my car. “Hungry?”

She gives me a megawatt smile, her green eyes shining under the soft glow of the lamp light.

Gorgeous.

“Starving.”

“Fine, let’s go get something to eat. Friend.”





I thought we could be friends.

Just friends?

Why would I even say something like that?

I am such a liar.





The twins are spying.

When we come back to my parents’ place after our brief dinner, they’re barely concealed behind the sheer curtains draped across their second story window; their nosey silhouettes are pressed against the glass conspicuously, glaringly obvious given the fact they never shut the lights off in their shared bedroom.

The sheers flutter, pulled back, whipping back and forth when one twin shoves the other aside, vying for more window space. I can’t tell who is who, but when one gets jostled back, more prodding ensues.

They’ll never make it in espionage.

I don’t fight back the chuckle at their blatant lack of stealth; amused, I can’t even muster up the energy to be irritated.

Or maybe I’m just happy.

Shit, that’s got to be it.

Daphne and I walk unhurriedly through my parents’ manicured lawn to the car parked in the shadows next to the house. Her body shivers.

“Cold?”

“Yeah, kind of. Brrrr. I have to remember mittens next time I leave the house with the seasons changing.”

“I have some in my car—let me go grab them.”

“Gosh, no! That’s okay,” she protests—but I’m already halfway across the lawn to my car, pulling open the door and digging through the glove box to retrieve the gloves.

Ah, here they are.

I hold up them up for inspection, blowing inside one, then the other, to warm them as I jog back to Daphne. Even in the dim shadows I can see her beaming when I hold out the first glove.

I hold it steady as she slides her hands in to each one.

She gives her hands a wiggle, smile widening. “Thank you.”

The yard is quiet; we have no neighbors and my parents live on a wooded lot. Besides my snooping fifteen-year-old sisters spying from upstairs, we’re completely alone.

“You’re welcome.”

She leans her shoulder against the door of her silver car, nothing but the sound of our breathing and the jingling of her cars keys in the still night air.

I clear my throat. “So.”

“So…” Daphne shifts on her heels, dragging out the word like it’s actually a question. It sounds diminutively more meaningful than a regular so, so… I’m actually really confused.

I’m tempted to repeat the word one more time, but fight the power. Removing my glasses, I lift the hem of my blue cable knit sweater to clean the lenses.

Instinctually, I feel Daphne move in closer; my personal space instantly becomes warmer.

“Can you see without those?”

I chuckle, the sound reverberating against the silence, and tease, “I can see you, if that’s what you were wondering.”

Even without my glasses, I can see her biting down on that pouty lower lip with her teeth to hide a shy smile. She cocks her head up at me. “Maybe it was.”

I don’t know how to respond to that.

“Aren’t you curious, Dexter?” She whispers in the shadow, her warm breath forming a small puff of steam around her words in the cold, night air.

“Curious about what?”

God, even I can hear how f*cking ridiculous that sounds. Curious about what? my inner thoughts mock. My friend Collin would be kicking my ass right now if he heard how much I sounded like a *. I have no game when it comes to women.

“Curious about… nothing.” Daphne fakes a laugh, giving her head a little shake. “Nothing.”

Except it doesn’t feel like nothing. It sounds like she’s asking for something in a language I don’t speak. And I might not know shit about women, but I know that right now, she’s flirting with me.

Or not.

Shit, I can’t tell.

“Thanks for putting up with me tonight.” She goes for the door handle of her car, pausing before pulling it open. “Your family is pretty… spectacular. I know you weren’t expecting me today, so it was a relief when you didn’t freak out.”

“No problem. Don’t worry about it.”

“Right. Well…” Daphne lowers herself into the driver’s seat, buckles her seat belt, and looks up at me with those eyes. Those dejected green eyes. “Good night, Dexter.”