It clicked. In that second it made sense. Abel didn’t seem like that type of guy because he was pretending, just like I was. He was a lie. Or maybe I wanted to see kindness in someone else because it was so rare in my life. Not that I could blame or judge him. I was no different. We were the same and so very, very different.
“Stop being a whore, and come play a game with us,” Trish said.
“Wouldn’t want to give you any competition.” Hilarious choice of words coming from a girl who’d made out with three strangers tonight. They weren’t strangers to her, though. I was the stranger. I was the one on the outside. My mind drifted back to truth or dare with Brock.
“What game?” I asked, hating myself for following the crowd, but what choice did I have? This was Lie, the popular girl. I wasn’t a loser anymore and could prove it.
“Spin the bottle.” Trish glanced over her shoulder and winked as Abel’s hands slid over his hips.
“That’s a kids’ game.”
Chapter Three
Stutter
“Have you ever even kissed a guy, Lie?” Trish was running her hands over Abel’s chest.
“You kn‐know I have,” I replied quietly as Adam stepped closer to me and brushed my hair over my shoulder.
“I’ll kiss you.” He took another step, his hand gliding over his stomach and down over his jeans.
“You’re gross,” I snapped, and Abel laughed, loud and deep.
“Leave her the fuck alone, Adam. She’s not interested in you.” His eyes met mine, and it felt like something was implied by his statement, and it pissed me off. “She has a boyfriend,” he said with a sarcastic smirk.
Thank you, Trish, for bringing up Brock.My insides boiled. I just wanted to escape my past for one damn night. Was that too much to ask?
“I’ll play,” I said, my voice coming out strong and confident. All part of the lie. I felt like an idiot for trying to fit in with these people.
“That’s my girl!” Trish slid off Abel’s lap, and he ran his hand along his strong jaw before sliding off the couch and sitting across from me. Adam was at my side, and Trish was on the other. The other guy was relaxing on the couch, his hand still in his pants as he stroked himself. I wanted to vomit.
I grabbed the empty vodka bottle from the floor and laid it on its side. I tried not to look at Abel as I spun it. It rotated endlessly, and I felt like an idiot for spinning it so hard. When it stopped I glanced up at green‐blue eyes, and Abel smiled as I looked over at Trish, and my heart sank a little.
“Get over here, you little slut!” She pushed to her knees, nearly falling over as she scooted toward me. I swallowed hard as I met her halfway and pressed my lips against hers. Her gloss tasted like cherries and cigarettes. I tried to look unaffected as she slid the tip of her tongue over my bottom lip to elicit cheers from the guys.
“I knew you had it in you.” Trish swiped her thumb below her lip to fix her makeup as she winked and sat back next to Abel.
Trish spun next, and the bottle landed on Adam. He smirked as his hands slid into her hair. Their kiss was loud and sloppy, and I blushed as I glanced at Abel. The air in the room was changing, charged with sexual tension.
Their hands roamed over each other’s bodies, and I grew increasingly uncomfortable as they clawed at each other’s clothing. Abel cleared his throat, and they broke apart.
“My turn,” I said, and grabbed the bottle. I spun and tried my best to keep my gaze off the stormy ocean eyes across from me. As the neck slowed and stopped in front of Abel, my heart thudded against my chest like it was trying to break free. I rose to my knees, but Abel didn’t move, and I was losing my nerve. “You could at least meet me halfway.” I didn’t mean to sound bitchy, but if he expected me to throw myself on him like Trish did with Adam, he was going to be disappointed. He just watched me. I was humiliated.
“Ugh. You’re such a child,” Trish groaned.
As I watched her leg slide over Abel’s lap and her nails slide through his messy beach hair, I realized I’d never be her. I wasn’t that good of a pretender. Her lips pressed hard against Abel’s, and I felt my stomach turn. Why did everyone like her so much? What was so good about Trish Wentworth that I didn’t have?
I got up from the circle and made my way into the kitchen. I vaguely heard Adam moan about not getting his chance with me, and I rolled my eyes as I stood in front of the kitchen island. This was supposed to be different, and I was being the same old Delilah. I grabbed the pill bottle and dumped a few in my hand before popping them into my mouth and dry‐swallowing them. A pill lodged in my throat, and I dug around in the bag until my hands landed on a bottle of Gatorade. I chugged it down, freeing the pill from its spot.