Plight(7)

"I mean you need to stop this lie," I continued. "It can't go on any longer. You need to tell them the truth."

He tilted his head to the side and lightly dragged his gloved finger across his chin. "I'm wondering why you didn't tell them the truth."

"What?" My arm fell to my side, the garbage bag clunking to the ground yet again. "I tried to but you stopped me, remember?"

"Initially, yes. But you've had more than enough chances between then and now to come clean, so I'm curious as to why you haven't done that."

I swear the arsehole was smirking behind his big, gloved hand - his ice-blue eyes cool and mischievous. I wanted to block their vexatious glare by tossing the garbage by my feet at him.

"Why?" I growled, gobsmaked. "Because you got us into this, so you can get us out."

"What if I don't want to get us out?"

His response was so cool, calm and collected that it made me laugh. And not a hyena laugh, more a you-can't-be-serious laugh. "When did you become so ridiculously crazy?"

"When did you become so cynical?"

"CYNICAL?" This time I did laugh like a hyena. "This is not me being cynical. This is me being rational, and normal."

"So you're saying I'm not normal?"

"Um  …  " My eyes almost crossed over with the weight of sarcasm behind them. "I'm not saying that. But what you're playing at isn't normal, Elliot. We haven't so much as spoken in seventeen years. I don't know you. You don't know me."

He took another step closer, his invisible wall no longer holding him stationary. "I do know you, Danielle. A person doesn't change with age. Only their layers do. Their core doesn't. I know your core."

I didn't know what to say so went with the first thing that popped into my head, which, of course, was stupid and a result of watching back-to-back episodes of Game of Thrones during my me time.

"You know nothing, Elliot Parker!" I yelled, hastily fleeing for the door.

He caught me in passing and gently but firmly held me still. "Oh, I know that."

The way he said "that", and how he'd quickly glanced at where our hips brushed, how his grip tightened, and how the ice in his eyes flamed with fervour, told me he was referring to his abilities to please a woman, which also told me he was a Game of Thrones fan as well.

I pushed him back. "I  …  I have a boyfriend, so you need to stop. And you need to set the record straight with our mothers. Now!"

He chuckled and leaned back against a rotting workbench, crossing his ankles and folding his arms over his chest. "Now who's lying, huh?"

I crossed my arms, too. "I'm not lying."

"Yeah, you are. You already told me you're single, remember?"

"I lied then."

"No, you didn't."

"How would you know?"

"Because lying then suggests that you wanted me to think you're single, which contradicts you trying to fool me into believing you're not single now."

What the actual fuck?

I was so confused. "Stop trying to trick me with your cross-examination lawyer crap."

Elliot burst into laughter, and I couldn't help but let a small smile find its way to the surface of my face as well, despite how grossly pissed off I was. Unfortunately, his laughter was infectious. It always had been. It was those damn glittering, giant elf eyes.

"Why are you laughing at me?" I snapped.



       
         
       
        

"Because you're funny. You always were, and, clearly, you still are."

"I'm not. I'm being serious. I have a boyfriend. His name is Chris. I live with him."

Elliot's smile faded, and he uncrossed his arms. And for a moment, I thought I noticed disappointment brush over his face when he cast his stare to the ground. But it was only momentarily - his response far from passive.

"Another lie. If you were dating this Chris, Jeanette would know about it."

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

"She would not. I don't tell her everything."

"Yeah, you do."

"I do not."

He waggled his eyebrows, and by the god of fertility, it made my ovaries multiply. Why is he so frustratingly sexy?

Growling yet again, I stormed toward the door and kicked the shovel out of the way, allowing it to swing open and let light explode between us.

He lifted his hand to shield his eyes, and when they were able to focus I smiled, sweetly. Victoriously. "Fine. You think I tell her everything? Then I will. Starting with the fact you lied about us."





What had I gotten myself into? Never in my life had I felt so caught in a web I couldn't get out of. A web spun by my own arms and legs  …  and big mouth. And that said a lot considering I'd dealt with my fair share of corporate sharks and hardened criminals. But even then I'd always worn an I've-got-this-in-the-bag pretence and managed to seal said bag and toss it over my shoulder like the cocky solicitor I was.