Things Liars Hide(2)

“I’m only teasing… Mom packed all that away when you moved after college. But I’m sure the boxes are in the basement somewhere if you’re interested.”

“I’m not,” I insist with a scowl.

Well. Maybe I am, a little. But only because I don’t have any artwork to hang on my white condo walls.

Dammit. There I go again, sounding like a goddamn decorator.

“Can we just grab what I need and get the hell out of here?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, hold your horses.” Greyson holds up the handwritten list I brought, consulting it like it’s a treasure map. “We still have to grab you a rug for your kitchen, and some gadgets. You need a wine bottle opener—” She’s skeptical. “Really? A wine bottle opener? That’s necessary?”

“I like wine sometimes. I need a new bottle opener.” If sighing sarcastically were a thing, I would do it right now. But since it’s not, I just do it loudly.

My sister relents, holding her hands up, one still clutching the list. “Okay, okay, calm down.” She checks the list again. “Wine bottle opener,” the brat emphasizes with an eye-roll. “Can opener. Water glasses. Garbage bags.”

Greyson’s voice fades out as I stare absentmindedly up the center aisle, the repetitive elevator music from Target’s sound system lulling me into a zombie-like state. A leggy blonde up ahead wearing a hot-pink baseball hat peaks my curiosity—long, tan legs in white shorts and a light gray shirt. I perk up considerably at the sight of her.

She stops in the middle of the aisle and gapes, arms laden with shampoo and hairspray and shit, and the pink lips I’m admiring part in a surprised O. I can see from here that her eyes are bright blue, set off by the color of her cap. Without hesitating, I scan that body from the long blonde hair falling loosely under her hat, to the round breasts beneath her simple shirt, up to the shocked expression on her face.

No. That’s not right—she looks spooked.

Like she’s seen a ghost.

When she darts quickly behind a display up ahead, abandoning her cart, I crane my neck, hoping to catch another glimpse.

Fail.

Dammit, where the hell did she go?

“Are you even listening to me?” my sister asks, threading her arm through mine to recapture my attention. Knowing me like she does, she takes pity on me. “Tell you what. Let’s quickly run over to the cleaning supplies, grab some detergent, and call it a day. Then we can grab lunch. Your treat, of course.”

Her head hits my shoulder, and she gives my arm an affectionate, sisterly squeeze.

“Of course.”





I put a trembling hand to my chest to calm this racing heart inside me. It’s going positively wild, and I place my other hand on the shopping cart for support. Somewhere in the next aisle over, I hear the tinkling laugh—one that I recognize. One that I’m all too familiar with, and I know it’s her.

Greyson Keller.

My brother’s girlfriend…

…grasping the arm of a guy I don’t recognize, pulling him towards a display of bed spreads, holding his tan, muscular arm firmly with one hand, and pointing to a quilt display with the other.

“You said you just wanted to quickly grab some more cleaning supplies,” I hear his deep voice grumble.

“I know what I said. But since we’re near the bedding, wouldn’t it be nice to roll around on crisp, clean sheets?”

The guy’s hesitation is followed by more grumbling. “I guess so…”

This is not happening right now.

I am not witnessing Cal’s girlfriend cheating on him with another guy. I can’t be.

I refuse to believe it. Squeezing my blue eyes shut, I lean my limp body against the metal rack of pillows behind me, and I use the rack to support myself. My legs are weak, wobbly, and I lower my palms to steady my knees, taking a few deep breaths.

I’m physically shaking.

I am not seeing this. I’m not, I’m not, I’m not.

I can’t be.

Cal loves her. I love her, too—she’s the sister I never had.

I can’t even conjure up any nasty or unkind thoughts about her right now, even with the truth before me. One aisle over. The truth that’s laughing and simpering and giggling like a flirty teenager. I love Greyson so much that I don’t have the heart to storm over and confront her for being a lying, cheating, backstabbing…

Ugh.

I stare up at the ceiling of the store at the fluorescent bulbs now blinding my eyes, and I pull the brim of my hot-pink hat down to shield my eyes, debating my options.

I can’t even think about her being a cheater.

Horrible.

I think I’m going to retch all over the floor in this aisle.

Oh sweet baby Jesus.

I inhale and exhale slowly, trying to catch my breath—the way I did in college after I’d had too much to drink and was trying to stop myself from barfing. I stand like this until my queasy stomach subsides, and the pukey feeling passes.

My lids flutter open.

What do I do? What the hell do I do? This is my brother’s girlfriend, the center of his whole world, the love of his life. I cannot tell him she’s cheating on him. I cannot tell him what I just saw—but at the same time, I can’t un-see it.

I also can’t stand here all day, hiding behind the bean bag chairs and pillows with a cart full of unpaid toiletries, as Greyson and that hot guy idly stroll, aisle after aisle, laughing and flirting and touching each other with familiarity.

There goes his laugh again. Deep and rich and amused.

Happy.

I thought Greyson was happy—happy with Cal.

Shit.

And suddenly, here they are. A million uncharitable thoughts race through my brain as I hide, concealed from their view. How dare she? How long has this been going on? How can she so brazenly flaunt this guy in public, where anyone could bump into them? What do I tell my brother?

My brother, who has never been in love until now. My brother, who has never let anyone into his heart. He will be crushed. Devastated won’t even begin to cover it.

Cal will never trust anyone again.

My chest tightening and heart breaking, I take another deep, stabilizing breath and try to recall some of the breathing techniques I learned in yoga class. And… I got nothin’.

Crap.

Why don’t I ever pay attention in that dumb class? In through the nose, out through the mouth… in through the nose, out through the mouth.

I peek my head around the corner to catch a glimpse of them.

Greyson and that dark-haired hottie.

Shit, he’s deliciously attractive.

He’s tall and broad with thick, dark brown hair and sexy black sunglasses propped on top of his head. Greyson has her blonde head resting against his wide shoulder. A large hand slides around my brother’s girlfriend’s waist, giving her an affectionate squeeze.

I hate it. I hate how comfortable they obviously are with each other.

How the hell can my brother compete with a guy as handsome as that?

I glare at them, sick to my stomach and wanting to vom, then plaster myself back up against the shelf with a shaking breath. A sharp price tag stabs me in the back, jolting me out of my angry stupor.

Why the hell am I the one hiding? I’m not the one doing anything wrong!

Another rich laugh fills the air, coming from the next aisle over, and I steady myself. Straighten my spine. Count down from three.

Two.

One.

I step out into the main aisle, plastering on a wide smile when I come face to face with Greyson and this homewrecking asshole.

“Greyson! Hi!” My voice comes out saccharine sweet, sounding hollow, fake, and robotic as I try my best to act surprised to see them. Surprised but cheerful. Definitely cheerful.

Gag.

“Oh my gosh! Tabitha!” Greyson gasps, delighted, and steps out from behind the cart, coming around it to embrace me. “It’s so good to see you!”

Hmm, she sounds suspiciously joyful. For a lying, backstabbing cheater.

“Hey.” My body is stiff, arms clutching the toiletries that haven’t yet made it into my cart. I glance between the two of them bitterly from under the brim of my cap. “What are you doing in town? So far from school?”

She and my brother are in college three hours away, but coincidentally, our parents only live twenty minutes apart from each other.

Imagine that.

Greyson’s painfully attractive date’s eyes linger on me with rapt interest, his hazel irises checking me out from head to toe, landing on my chest a heartbeat too long, his high cheekbones taking on a rosy glow before jerking his gaze away.

Of all the nerve!

What. An. Asshole.

“We’re getting odds and ends for his condo,” Greyson replies slowly, stepping out of our embrace and narrowing her eyes as she studies me. My brother’s girlfriend might be stupidly gorgeous, but she’s definitely not stupid. “Tabitha, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I lie, shaking out of her grasp. “Who’s your friend?” Agitated, I begin tapping my foot on the hard tile, biting my tongue.

Greyson’s lip’s part, and I brace myself for her lie.

“You mean Collin?” Confused, she looks back and forth between him and me, apprehension marring her beautiful face. “Tabitha, I’m not sure—”

“How could you?” I hiss in a whisper.

Her expressive eyes get wide. “How could I what?”

“Oh my god, seriously?” I raise my palms in frustration, the deodorant, hairspray, and toothpaste falling to the ground with noisy, hollow clangs. The metal hairspray can bounces, rolls, and hits the adjacent metal shelf, but I don’t even care.