Cheater (Curious Liaisons Book 1) Page 8

  I stared after him like I’d just woken up in some alternate universe—one where somehow I was the Black sister who’d ended up with Lucas Thorn, and he was making me pancakes in bed.

  Guilt stabbed me right in the chest. Because how many times had I wanted exactly that? How many times had I measured myself against Kayla? And come up short?

  Did God hate me that much? To dangle crack-filled pancakes in front of me along with the man who got away? The same man who broke my sister’s heart? And damaged countless lives?

  I entertained that conundrum for possibly thirty seconds before I shoved it away and finished my pancakes. He’d always been a good cook, which was just another thing that I hated about him.

  Assholes weren’t allowed to be good cooks. Or rich. Damn it, he should have been poor! With a beer belly and adult acne!

  With no choice but to do the semiwalk of shame into the living room, I gathered my hair into a low ponytail, located my shoes, and shuffled barefoot into the light.

  Like a loser.

  “Thanks.” I dropped my shoes onto the hardwood floor and washed off my plate, then found the dishwasher and loaded it. “For the pancakes.”

  Lucas was staring at me over his coffee as though I’d grown five heads.

  “What?” I shrugged. “What’s that look for?”

  “Did you just clean a dish?”

  “Bite me.”

  “You never do dishes.”

  “Lucas, as much as I’d like to shove our history up your ass and light you on fire, I can’t, you know, because I wouldn’t survive prison, and they don’t have Starbucks there . . . But four years is a long time. I’ve changed.” I sighed. “I mean, both of us have. I’m a mildly successful college graduate discovering what I want to do with my life, paying my own electricity bill and you”—I pointed to him—“you . . .”

  “I what?”

  He took a long sip of coffee. I didn’t wait for him to swallow.

  “You’re a lying, cheating whore.” I said it sweetly, even batted my eyes at him. That made it better, right?

  “It isn’t cheating if—”

  “Right, I get it—to you it’s not cheating if they know. To me it just seems like a really solid way to get an STD or get a girl pregnant that you don’t even like, making it so you have to fire Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday!”

  “I do like them, and why not Friday?”

  “Oh, I had a good feeling about her.” I smirked. “She had nice lipstick. I can see it now: an unplanned pregnancy, little Nadia moving into this chic apartment, putting her stuff all over, and you finding tampons in the bathroom, only to come out to her sobbing on the couch while the baby cries . . .” I sighed cheerfully. “The perfect family.”

  Lucas went from vibrant to pale, all within the span of a minute.

  “Something bothering you, Thorn?”

  “Other than your voice?” He shook his head. “Nope, can’t think of a thing.”

  A knock sounded at the door. Lucas nearly dropped his coffee, then stared at the door. “Shit, she’s early.”

  “So.” I located my purse, tossed on the couch, and snagged it. “Just let her in, what’s the big deal? It’s not like anything happened, and your sister loves me.”

  He gave me the most irritated look ever. “You’re right. I can’t think of one solid reason why it would be weird, my sister walking in, seeing you for the first time in years, looking the way you do, walking the walk of shame out of my apartment . . . her thinking that I’ve plowed my way through every Black sister. You’re right—why am I so worried?”

  My heart clenched. It shouldn’t have, but that’s the thing about hearts; even when you think yours is solidly on lockdown, it still manages to twinge when someone says something hurtful, especially when they don’t even realize it is.

  Then again, Lucas had gone from promising something he had no business promising a girl of seventeen—to landing in her older sister’s bed. Drunk off his ass.

  I took a deep breath and paused to think. “We’ll lie.”

  “No shit. Why hadn’t I thought of that?” He glared at me.

  “I’m storing this conversation for later, when I throw it back in your face and give you a big fat giant ‘I told you so.’” I stomped over to the door and threw it wide open. “ERIN!” I might have said her name a smidge too loud, considering she took a cautious step back like I was about to launch myself onto her. “Long time no s-see.” Oh hell, the stutter—that wasn’t what was needed in this situation. Confidence, Avery!

  Erin’s eyes narrowed, and then she shoved past me, grabbed the closest weapon, which just so happened to be the spatula, and started reaming on Lucas.

  It was a really great show. Where was popcorn when I needed it?

  “A little help!” he screamed in my direction while covering his head with one hand and his man parts with the other.

  I yawned, checked my fingernails, entertained the thought of busting out some yoga, then very slowly raced an imaginary snail over to their location and said, “Stop, it’s okay, Erin.”

  “IT’S NOT OKAY! HE SWORE HE WOULD NEVER REPLACE ME ON A SUNDAY.” Swat. “What’s WORSE!” Two swats. “He did it with you!” Swat, swat, swat . . . “How dare you, Lucas! This is going to disappoint Mom and Dad all over again! I can’t believe you! And with her? She’s completely innocent! Do you want Mom to cry over you again?” She swatted him a few more times.

  Laughter gurgled in my throat, though I struggled to hold it back. Oh man, that spatula was getting some action.

  “Well, um, actually . . .” I moved to stand in front of him and then wrapped my arm around his neck, squeezing as tightly as I could without bruising him. “We’re seeing each other, er . . . exclusively.”

  “You are?” “We are?” Erin and Lucas asked in unison.

  “Yeah, you know, our little Thorn is going straight, aren’t you, baby?”

  She dropped the spatula, and tears filled her eyes. “Are you serious? You’re not whoring around anymore? Cheating on poor innocent women and giving them the bullshit line that if they know—”

  “—it’s not cheating,” I finished for her. “Stupid, right?”

  “Stupid doesn’t even begin to cover it.” She smiled brightly through her tears. “I’m just—I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.” She ran a shaky hand through her hair. “God, Mom and Dad have been so worried about you with all of this weird dating going on, and you know how things have never been the same with our families after . . . This could literally fix everything!” She beamed at Lucas. “I mean, clearly you’re over everything now? You can move on from all this serial cheating or dating or whatever it is? I swear if Mom and Dad actually knew what you’d been up to, they’d kill you.” Her eyes filled with more tears. “My baby brother’s settling down!”

  I felt slightly guilty as I squeezed him harder and said, “Kind of feels like we just took the first real steps on the moon, right?” Curse words flew under his breath as he tensed beneath my touch.

  “Lucas!” She smiled. “Stop being such a baby. I won’t tell Mom and Dad. I’m just, I’m so proud that you’ve found your heart.”

  “Imagine—it was in my hands this whole time! And to think we nearly sold it to Satan!” We both burst out laughing.

  Lucas flinched and mumbled, “Excuse me.”

  Which wasn’t like him.

  I mean, he was usually polite.

  But he was the type to play into schemes like that, or at least make me pay for what I just did, but hey, at least I’d made him look awesome in front of his sister and protected both of us from shaming in the process.

  Instead, he walked from the room without another word.

  “Maybe you should go check on him?” She frowned like she was concerned his feelings were hurt. Sorry, honey, that ship sailed long ago. The man had no feelings; he was like an emotionally neutral Switzerland.

  But I went anyway—to save face.

  What I d
idn’t expect to find was Lucas Thorn having a full-fledged panic attack in his master bathroom, or for him to be bleeding as pieces of mirror spread across the sink and onto the floor, as though he’d just tried to rip it from the wall, got frustrated, and punched it instead.

  “Lucas?” I stepped around the glass to where he huddled in the corner, blood trickling down his arm and onto his jeans. “Holy crap, you’re bleeding! Are you okay?”

  “Leave.”

  “Lucas—”

  “I don’t need your help.” He glanced up, and his eyes were unfocused. “Tell my sister I fell, tell her I saw the devil in my reflection and was fighting my own demons. But I want you out of this apartment in two minutes, or I’m going to fire your ass.”

  “What?” I hissed. “I just saved you!”

  “No,” he barked out. “You saved you. That wasn’t saving me—that was screwing me over, so thank you very much for ruining my life.”

  “Well,” I snorted. “Payback’s a bitch.”

  He eyed me up and down and whispered, “You have no idea.”

  Chapter Eleven

  LUCAS

  I was able to convince my sister that I’d accidentally slipped and hit the mirror—it was a lame-ass excuse, but she seemed to buy it.

  I thought things were cool until she texted me links to a few websites for anger management.

  The very last thing I needed was for the Marysville gossip ring to start its chatter. Or for my parents to call Avery’s parents out of concern that a repeat was taking place—God, I could only imagine. I was a man on borrowed time, because even though I loved my sister, she couldn’t keep a secret to save her life.

  Which meant.

  I was completely screwed in every single way that mattered.

  I couldn’t win.

  Either I said I was with Avery and finally make everyone happy by fixing the four-year divide between our parents—or history would repeat itself: my dad’s heart would fail out of disappointment for his only son; my mother would cry herself to sleep every night; and Avery’s parents, who I loved almost as much as my own, would be angry yet again.

  The worst part? My sister had cried. Again. After brunch.

  I blamed her pregnancy.

  She said it wasn’t about the baby but because I’d finally grown up and decided to think about someone and something other than myself and my own personal feelings. Funny, because I thought I was already there. I had a solid job, a nice apartment, a fantastic life, and I enjoyed a different girl every day of the week.

  That was grown up.

  Unlike taking home a drunk Avery Black and helping her nurse a stupid wine hangover that should never have happened in the first place.

  My head hurt. The whole situation was going to end up coming back and biting me in the ass. I couldn’t shake the feeling that bad things were coming.

  Chapter Twelve

  LUCAS

  Three hours later, and I still couldn’t shake the headache or the onslaught of memories I’d kept locked away. They thumped around in my brain like a bad movie on repeat.

  Avery didn’t know.

  Nobody did.

  Avery knew what I wanted her to know, which was enough.

  I stared out the window of my apartment. I had to face her at work tomorrow, and I had to make sure that she didn’t get under my skin, or ever find out the truth about that night.

  My phone rang.

  It was my mom.

  Son of a bitch.

  Let the games begin.

  “Hello?” I always answered my mom’s calls. If I didn’t, she called the police. In her mind I lived in the big, bad, scary city, and even though I was only about an hour away, I basically lived “in hell.” Her words, not mine.

  “Honey, don’t freak out.” Her tone was way too elated for this to be a normal check-in. “But I just got off the phone with Erin.”

  A rock the size of Texas settled in my stomach as my heart started rapidly thudding against my chest.

  “Of course you did.” What were the chances of a meteor hitting the earth? Scratch that, landing smack dab in Belltown, only to take out one single room in an apartment building?

  “And don’t be angry with her, but some interesting news just . . . slipped out.”

  “Naturally.”

  “Because you know Erin.”

  “I know Erin.” I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose.

  “I mean, really, it wasn’t her fault at all—I think it’s the baby.”

  Damn it! Unfair! You can’t blame an unborn child for her inability to keep her trap shut! Hell, damn, shit, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. With shaking hands, I poured some whiskey into a glass, then stared at the bottle and brought it to my lips.

  “Are you drinking?”

  “No.” Hell yes.

  “Honey, think of your liver.”

  HAH! My liver was the least of my worries. If God were just, he’d kill me now, right now. I closed my eyes tight. We were going to have the conversation. The one I always swore I’d never have. Where my mom dug up the past, made me feel like shit, and cried.

  “Anyways . . .” She chuckled. “The youngest Black girl? I mean, do you think that’s a good idea? Things are just starting to get back to normal between us and the Blacks. We act like neighbors again, we wave at one another. Why, just the other day your father said hello to them and didn’t get ignored!” She sighed, maybe realizing that it had taken four years simply to exchange a hello. “Well, it doesn’t matter I guess. What’s done is done. And honestly, this may help heal what happened between us.” She started sniffing. “I miss them so much. You know I went to high school with Tess and Stewart.” Yes, I knew. Everyone knew that the minute I’d fucked up, I hadn’t just done it to myself but to a friendship that was known throughout our town. For shit’s sake, our parents used to plan block parties together. Avery’s mom was my godmother! Guilt kicked me over and over again until I thought I was going to puke. “Your father and I are so proud!”

  Thud, thud. My heart strained to a painful degree. And there it was.

  Proud.

  They were proud.

  “You’re proud,” I repeated. “The last time you said that I was graduating college with honors. You’ve said that twice to me in my life.” The other time was when I asked Kayla to marry me.

  “Oh, don’t be so dramatic.” She paused. “Honey, are you sure you’re not drinking? Erin said you had a little incident with your mirror.”

  “Thought I saw a spider.” I sighed and took another heavy drink. “You know how I get.”

  “Use the little spider thingy I got you from the airline catalog! Remember, it saves them so you can set them free in the wild.”

  Of what? Downtown Seattle?

  Parents. Why? Just. I had nothing.

  “So when can we do dinner?”

  That was better. Change the subject. Though dinner with my parents after the Avery news probably wouldn’t be the wisest course of action.

  They were proud.

  Proud.

  I had no choice.

  “I think I’m free Tuesday night.” Both Cary and Tabatha were on a flight that evening, so I wouldn’t get the much-needed and deserved sex I’d been looking forward to ever since Avery Black had blasted back into my life like an atom bomb.

  “Boom!” I made a little exploding motion with my hand that held the bottle. Kids, this is your brain, this is your brain on drugs—note it looks exactly like what happens to Lucas when he and Avery are in the same room. Fascinating!

  “Tuesday,” she whispered to herself. “Tuesday.” Another long pause. “Tuesday.”

  “In two days, Mom!”

  “Don’t raise your voice at your mother!” my father bellowed, and I jerked the phone away from my ear.

  “Oh good, you’re on speakerphone.” I made a gun shape with my hand, motioning toward my head, and took another swig from the bottle.

  “Son, are you drinking?”

  “Nope.” I took
another long drink.

  “Tuesday!” my mother shouted. “Perfect. We’ll text you the name of the restaurant. Now, make sure to bring Avery.” When my parents and I went out to dinner, they always picked the restaurant and I always paid. It was kind of how it worked—it was the least I could do after all the pain I’d caused. Wait, did she just say “Avery”?

  “The hell?”

  “Language!” my father boomed.

  “Sorry—I meant, she’s busy.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Can she cancel her plans?” my mom pleaded and then started sniffling.

  “Son, don’t make your mother cry. She’s had an emotional day, what with Fluffy dying.”

  “Fluffy’s been dead FOR A YEAR!”

  “Still . . .” She sniffled loudly. “Hurts, you know that the Blacks gave me Fluffy before . . .”

  Before I screwed up.

  Before I ruined my parents’ lives.

  Before I moved away.

  So I did what idiots always did when cornered—I damned Avery Black to hell and said, “I’m sure she can make it.”

  The conversation ended when my mother asked when we were having kids.

  I carried the bottle to bed.

  Chapter Thirteen

  AVERY

  It wasn’t a big deal. Just a Monday. I was making it worse than it really was, anxiety building up in my stomach so much that I’d almost puked twice that morning.

  He’d actually threatened to fire me—or at least give me such a bad review, I wouldn’t be able to work for the company, the one that had a six-figure starting salary with my name on it and a really shiny company card that would let me charge things like lunch.

  Steak.

  Business trips!

  It was like my imminent homelessness meant nothing to him!

  I was exaggerating.

  But still!

  He was an ass!

  But it wasn’t his threat that had been the last straw—it was the look on his face while he’d said it, like he’d just seen a ghost or maybe he was spooked to see a demon when he looked into the mirror. God only knew how many of those he had hanging off his body, what with all the sin he invited. Because I had to face the truth—he was a down and dirty cheater.