Little Lies(27)

No one addresses me, so I assume it’s one of the girls coming in to use the bathroom. I grab the ham, lettuce, and mustard and set them on the counter, letting the fridge fall closed. I groan my annoyance when I spot the loaf of bread on top of the fridge. My brothers seem to think this is the logical place to keep carbohydrate products.

My height makes it exceedingly difficult for me when they put things up high. And they probably do so on purpose. Maverick thinks it’s hilarious when I have to jump to get stuff, likely because my vertical is abysmal. They also constantly buy whole grain bread—never the nice, plain, soft, stick-to-the-roof-of-your-mouth white stuff.

I push up on my tiptoes and mash my chest against the stainless steel door, reaching for the end of the bag. It’s just beyond my grasp.

“Say please and I’ll get it for you.”

I spin around and find Kodiak standing less than six inches away. His pale green eyes are fixed on me, but the only emotion in them is passive disdain. I will my own eyes to shift to the side and not down, but they don’t obey.

As a child, I saw Kodiak in swim shorts all the time. Our families were always together for barbecues, birthday parties—any excuse for our parents to hang out meant our nannies also got together with us.

Kodiak has always been a bigger-than-average kid. He hit his first growth spurt at eleven, and by the time he was fourteen, it was clear he was going to be more than six-feet. At nineteen, he was six-three. He was a lanky teen, but tall and with broad shoulders that promised to fill out in time.

Time has done its job. And so has Kodiak’s rigidity and his obsession with being the absolute best. He’s ripped—all hard edges and cut muscles. Broad shoulders, defined biceps, thick veins roping down his forearms. A chiseled chest and six-pack abs leading down to the slice of V that disappears into his basic, black swim shorts.

Fuck. I’m ogling him. My heart stutters in my chest, and color explodes in my cheeks as he leans in.

He’s so close that his wet hair brushes my temple, and I can feel his hot breath and the cool radiating from his skin. “You look hungry, Lavender.”

I recoil, hating the way my body reacts to his low, taunting tone. I’m aware he’s making fun of me, that he knows he’s physically appealing and I’m not immune. I hate that it hurts to be so horribly dismissed over and over again by someone who once meant so much to me.

I take an unsteady step back and hit the counter. He moves forward, one hand landing beside me, the other gripping the fridge door. His gaze moves over my face and drops to my mouth. My immediate response is to suck my bottom lip between my teeth and hide the scar.

Something in his expression shifts, and his voice drops to a whisper. “Nothing has changed.”

“You’re right. I still hate you, and you’re still an asshole.”

He grins, the dimple in his cheek popping. “Only one of those things is true.”

The French doors open. “Kody? Are you coming back out? ’Cause if you wanna go, I’m cool with that too.”

I glance past him to the tall, lithe, bikini-clad girl. She’s not the girl from the first day of school, although I have seen that one since. She’s been here, in the pool and all over Kodiak, during their many parties.

I hate that relief is the first thing I feel. Her eyes narrow when she sees me, and it’s my turn to sneer. “It’s kind of embarrassing that you’re so used to bunnies falling all over you that you’ve forgotten how to act like a human being,” I note, meeting Kodiak’s eyes. “I guess it’s good that you don’t have to rely on your winning personality to get laid.”

The only sign I’ve gotten to him is the slight tic in his cheek and the way his expression goes flat.

“Kody? Why are you talking to her?” Her jealousy is a green-eyed monster.

I leave the sandwich stuff and grab a box of cereal from the counter, wanting to get away from Kodiak before he hits me with another low blow.

“I live here.” I throw a fake smile her way and elbow past Kodiak. “And don’t worry, I’d rather choke to death on a rotten hot dog than let him put his hands on me.”

I head for the stairs, aware that Kodiak isn’t going to follow me or antagonize me any further when there’s some girl vying for his attention. I rush up the steps, nearly tripping on the first landing. I manage to catch myself and make it to the third floor without falling on my face. I close my door and lock it from the inside, but I don’t turn on my light.

Since my room is in the attic, I have windows that look out on all sides of the house, plus the balcony that overlooks the backyard and the pool. I drop the cereal and my bag on the bed and cross to the other side of the room. Flipping the lock on the sliding door, I open it enough to get my body through, which is wider than I’d like, thanks to my boobs. I close it silently and drop down, staying hidden behind the towel I left hanging over the railing yesterday.

I scan the lit-up pool. I spot River with some girl hanging off him while he basically ignores her. It always surprises me how willing girls are to bask in his high-level surliness on the off chance he might give them a shred of attention.

I love my twin, but how he manages to attract the opposite sex confounds me.

Maverick is sitting at the edge of the pool, making out with someone. He’s been dating her for the past two weeks, I think, which means she won’t be around much longer.