Perfect Lie(19)

“Oh, my God! You’re their dealer! Why do you drive this bucket?”

The woman at the window gave me a sideways glance, and Abel clenched his jaw. He took his change and pulled toward the next window.

“I’m not a drug dealer, Delilah.”

“Lie.” I tuck my hair behind my ear.

“Are you doubting me or telling me your name?” His eyebrow raised again, and I realized he was being playful, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“My name.” I turned and looked out the window, hating that I always had to open my big mouth. I heard Abel getting the food and thanking the worker before we pulled off toward the house. He handed the bags to me, and I dug through to get our sandwiches.

“Thank you,” I mumbled.

He took his sandwich and devoured it in three bites, and I couldn’t help laugh. He didn’t have an ounce of fat on his frame. He was muscles and tanned skin—all man.

Brock and I had started dating right after I turned seventeen. He was fit and strong but very much still a boy. There hadn’t been anyone since him, and I was perfectly happy with that, but then Abel smiled and winked as he dug his hand in the bag on my lap to retrieve his hash browns. I felt my body heat up under the glow of the morning sun, and I hated myself for even thinking of another guy like I thought of Brock.

I took a few small bites of my sandwich, but guilt and memories stole my appetite.

“You should eat. Most important meal of the day.” Abel turned up the radio, but it was only a low hum in the background.

“I had a huge dinner last night before we left,” I lied, because it was what I did. It had become second nature since I’d become the new me.

“What did you have?” he asked, as he crumpled the paper from his hash browns and dropped it into the bag.

“Spaghetti,” I said absent‐mindedly, as I continued to stare into the nothingness along the road.

“Homemade?” he asked, and I turned to look at him with my eyes narrowed.

“Sure. With meatballs and everything.”

He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, and I saw his lips curve. He knew I was lying. How did he know that? No one ever questioned me.

“I hope there are leftovers.” He was challenging me now. He wanted me to admit I was a liar. Who was this asshole?

“Of course.” I reached over and turned up the volume on the radio. His hand covered mine, and our eyes locked.

“Good, because I think Trish mentioned something about us coming over today.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

My eyes narrowed to thin slits, and I pulled my hand from under his. I huffed as I grabbed my half‐eaten sandwich from the bag and unwrapped it, taking an angry bite. He turned up the song and sung along with a smile as we made our way back to the old house. Fuck this guy.

The house was still quiet when we returned. The door squeaked as we entered, and Trish turned her sleepy head. “We got you breakfast.” I held out the bag and shook it, but Abel snatched it from my hand. I scowled at him as he dug out the hash browns from my meal that I didn’t eat and took a huge bite then handed the bag back to me with a wink.

I rolled my eyes and pretended that my body didn’t just kick into overdrive. My heart felt like it was exploding inside my chest.

“Thank you, guys,” Trish mumbled, as she untangled her limbs from Adams. I tried my hardest not to make a sarcastic remark, but I felt embarrassed for her.

“God, did you at least use something?” I whispered, as she took the bag and shot me a dirty look.

“I’m not stupid. We just fooled around. What about you?” she mumbled, as she pulled her sandwich out and curled up on the smaller couch with her legs tucked under her body.

“I slept by myself as usual. You should try it sometime.”

She rolled her eyes as she smiled. “Good, because I want my shot at Abel.”

“Trish!” I turned around, but Abel was nowhere to be found, and Trish giggled.

“What?” she asked, and had the nerve to try to look innocent. I had no response. Abel was hot—anyone could see that—but it was her he had kissed last night during spin the bottle. The humiliating events flooded back into my hazy memory. I had made a total fool out of myself, and I could only hope that everyone had been too fucked up to remember.

“Just be safe.” I had no argument. Trish’s friendship was all I had, and I couldn’t risk losing her. Besides, if I told her I liked Abel, I’d have to explain what had happened with Brock, and I wasn’t ready to share that with anyone. It was better for everyone to assume he and I were still together. At least thenI could explain away my tears when I was missing him.