A Lie for a Lie (All In, #1)(44)

RJ sets his phone on the table and scrubs a hand over his face, muttering a curse. “I wanted to tell you so many times, but I didn’t want to ruin things between us. I figured if I told you the truth, you’d leave, so I kept putting it off—and the longer I did, the harder it got to tell you.” His gaze meets mine, imploring me to understand. “After I left you, I realized I had so many things I still needed to tell you, including my truth. I had this plan in my head that, once I got to LA, I’d tell you everything.”

“Why lie at all? Why taint everything with untruths?”

“You didn’t recognize me.”

It’s a simple explanation that tells me nothing and everything. When he doesn’t continue, I push. “And? That’s supposed to explain why you built what we had on a lie? You had weeks to tell me the truth, but instead you layered on more lies to support the one you started with.”

“I omitted more than anything, but I regret not saying anything. I just wanted to be normal for a while. You don’t understand what it’s like—”

“You mean all the parties and the women?” My stomach rolls as the images I’ve seen online come back to haunt me. I can’t get them out of my head. “I looked you up, RJ, as soon as I realized you’d lied. What I found is nothing like the man I was with in Alaska. I don’t even know who you are.”

“Yes, you do, Lainey. I’m the man you met on the plane who comforted you, the one you spent all those weeks with, the one who taught you how to drive and held you through a thunderstorm. That’s the real me.”

He moves to touch me again, so I shoot up off the love seat and step out of reach. “I don’t know what to believe.”

“I get that it looks bad—I really do, Lainey—but if you check all the dates you’ll see it was years ago. I came from a small town and was drafted young. I made some choices that weren’t the best, and I live in a city where hockey players are on par with celebrities—in an era where everything that should be private is public fodder. My mom and my sister wouldn’t speak to me for almost a year because of all the shit out there, so I know what the consequences of my actions are.”

I scoff at that last part. He has no idea what kind of repercussions I’ve faced as a result—or the strain it’s put on my relationship with my parents. If I thought they were protective before I went to Alaska, they were a million times worse when I came back.

“There had to have been a time in your life where you rebelled. Haven’t you ever gone through a wild phase, Lainey?”

“Yes. You were my wild phase, and clearly that was a terrible mistake,” I snap.

RJ pushes out of his chair and tries to corral me, but I slip between the chairs, out of reach once again.

“You said you planned to tell me the truth once you got to LA and we got in touch, but how was that ever going to work? I’d see all the same things, and I would’ve been on the other side of the country. How would you explain it then? How would you have been able to make me see whatever truth you want to feed me?” I move toward the house. “I tried to find you—I called every single alpaca farm in New York looking for you, but no one knew who you were, which makes sense, since I was asking for someone they’d never heard of.”

RJ’s expression is pained. “My mom sold the farm right after Max was born—to an investor. She wanted to be in LA with my sister and brother.”

I shake my head, not wanting to hear how we missed each other by weeks. “I tried to find you, but how hard did you try to find me, RJ? Really and truly?” I remember how devastated I was when I couldn’t find him and how, recently, I began to wonder if it hadn’t been a karmic blessing. “I need to go.”

RJ’s shoulders cave. “Please, Lainey.”

“I can’t be here right now. This is too much.” I move toward the sliding door, needing to get away from him and all the memories and the conflict I’m feeling over him and everything I know now.

“Can’t you give me a chance to prove you already know the real me?”

I can’t look at him and see that his expression matches the sadness in his voice. I want to give him that chance, but I don’t want to set myself up for more disappointment. “And put my heart on the line for you again? How will I trust you?”

He steps in front of the door before I can reach it. I stumble back, and he grips my biceps to keep me from falling—or maybe to keep me from running away. I long for the feel of his arms around me again. I want to sink into his warmth and the comfort I remember so vividly still.

“I was falling for you. I was halfway in l—”

“Don’t!” I all but shout. “Don’t play with my emotions. It’s unfair.”

“That’s not what I’m doing. I’m trying to be honest.”

“You had plenty of chances to be honest. Just let me go, Rook.” I say his name like a curse.

“I already let you go once, Lainey, and it gutted me—I don’t know if I can do it again.”

“Well, you can’t hold me captive, can you?”

“No. I can’t.” He releases me, and I spin around, yank the door open, and pad across the hardwood to the front entrance. Stupid, rogue tears start to fall as I shove my feet into my flats. I don’t know how to reconcile the version of him I thought I knew with the one who lives in an almost mansion and has a reputation for being a colossal playboy.