Bittersweet Lies (Bittersweet-Series Book 1) Read online

  “It’s not like that. The thing with Blake is just a little crush, some hormones into overdrive. It’ll pass.”

  Her lip curls.

  “Yeah, sure. You keep telling yourself that.” Her blue eyes gaze at my face intently.

  “But at some point you will have to admit that whatever is going on between you two is much deeper than you care to admit.”

  Do I really have to?

  Can’t we just continue where we left off back then?

  As friends?

  No, of course we can’t.

  And if I thought about it seriously instead of constantly banishing the topic from my thoughts, I would know that as well.

  Deep down, I know there’s no turning back for us. We’ve already crossed the line too many times for that.

  On several occasions.

  “Maybe you’re right,” I contritely confess.

  “But what difference does it make?”

  “Quite a lot,” she confidently replies.

  “You just need to finally talk to each other.”

  “We have. Well, at least somehow,” I casually remark as I play with my glass.

  She snorts. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Maybe because you’re already too nosy?” I tease and receive the evil eye in return.

  “No, seriously. Last night he followed me outside and we used the opportunity to talk a little.”

  Skeptical, Heather arches an eyebrow.

  “Do I want to know why you weren’t sleeping like other normal people?”

  “It seemed as if the walls of my room were closing in on me and I had to get out,” I admit.

  “I simply had to get outside into fresh air to think about everything.”

  “H’mm. And Blake followed you?”

  “Yes. I guess he couldn’t sleep either.”

  “What did you guys talk about? Did you tell him?”

  I know to what she’s referring.

  “No, I didn’t. It just didn’t feel like the right time.”

  Disappointed, she slumps and pouts, which look ridiculous on others, yet on her, just cute.

  “Two obstinate people who are too proud to admit the feelings they have for each other,” she mumbles into her glass.

  “My life is no schmaltzy soap opera, Heather. You cannot always get what you want.”

  “How can you say that when you haven’t even given it a try,” she remarks stubbornly, shaking her head.

  “Some people have to be forced to find happiness,” she adds and smiles mysteriously at me.

  “I have no idea what goes on in that crazy little head of yours again, but I really don’t want to know.” I give her a warning look.

  “Don’t even think about interfering.”

  As she just continues to stare at me with that satisfied expression on her face, I cannot bite back an annoyed groan.

  “I’m serious, Heather. You’ll only complicate the matter even more.”

  She makes a dismissive gesture and gives me conspiratorial look.

  “I’ve got a brilliant idea that you will listen to whether you like it or not.”

  “I thought we wanted to have a nice evening together?” I inquire and sigh.

  “What do you think we’re doing right now?” she wants to know and steals my Coke.

  “Don’t you have your own drink?”

  “Sure. It’s just that I was in the mood for Coke,” she replies with a shrug and downs half the glass.

  “You guys were made for each other, believe me,” she adds with a smile and pushes the glass back to me.

  “Oh yeah, why? Did you acquire psychic abilities in the last few days or what?”

  “And, considering–” at this point, Nathan interrupts her when he abruptly appears at our table.

  “What a coincidence running into you here, Brooke.”

  He smiles at me and eyes my outfit lasciviously, which I find a bit uncomfortable in Heather’s presence.

  “You look simply stunning this evening.”

  “Thanks,” I mumble and deliberately avoid her gaze.

  “I’m here with a friend.”

  “That would be me. Hi, I’m Heather. Nice to meet you.” She holds out her hand.

  “I’m Nathan. If I’m not mistaken, I’ve seen you around campus before.”

  “Could be,” she replies curtly, withdrawing her hand.

  I can’t get rid of the feeling those two secretly can’t stand each other and are putting on a show.

  Could they know each other from somewhere else?

  “Are we still on for Tuesday?” he asks and looks intently at me again.

  “Sure,” I reply as casually as possible, returning his smile.

  “Good. At your place at seven. I’ll pick you up.” He waves goodbye to us and disappears – without waiting for my reply – into the crowd.

  “What the hell was that all about?” it breaks out of her.

  “Who was that guy?”

  “You heard him.”

  “Fuck his name! I want to know what business you have with that guy.”

  “Relax,” I reply unimpressed. “I’m just going out with him.”

  “You are what?” Her voice is a high-pitched screech.

  “You heard me.” My look is challenging.

  What is her problem?

  She hisses disapprovingly and gets the waiters attention.

  “A salami pizza with extra cheese and a large Coke, please.”

  “Can I get you anything else?”

  “New nerves,” she mumbles

  “Excuse me?”

  “That’s all, thank you.”

  “Well?” I raise an eyebrow.

  She takes a few deep breaths. Probably so as not to hyperventilate.

  “How do you know each other?” she asks in a more controlled way and gnaws with her lower lip.

  “He plays on the football team. We accidentally ran into each other, started talking, and as I was about to leave he spontaneously asked me out on a date.”

  Her eyes widen in disbelief. “And you just agreed?”

  “Sure. Why not?”

  Her hair swings side to side as she shakes her head, laughs briefly, and again grabs my Coke.

  As I open my mouth to comment, she just throws me a warning look.

  “I can’t believe it,” she groans annoyed and empties the rest of the Coke in one gulp.

  “That wasn’t a shot, I hope you’re aware of that,” I say bald as I stare at my empty glass.

  “Believe me, if I wasn’t going to be driving, this here,” she lifts up the glass, “would not just be one shot.”

  “If you like, I can drive,” I offer, unable to resist smiling.

  “So, will you let me in on what the problem is?

  She frowned. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “Why else would I ask?”

  Sometimes I really don’t understand what goes on in her head.

  “Okay, let me explain it to you.” As she cradles her head in her hands and looks at me thoughtfully, a few black strands fall onto her delicate face.

  “You have feelings for Blake. I’ll even go so far and say what you feel for him is love. So, instead of talking to him about it, you keep pushing off the confrontation – which will inevitably happen, sooner or later – and stay out of his way. And then here comes this Nathan, who asks you out on a date after a brief initial chat and what do you do? You agree to go out with him. Just like that!”

  “Is the explanation still to come?” I inquire carefully, holding her gaze.

  “Shit!” she shouts a tad too loud and runs a hand through her hair, irritated.

  “Why don’t you just ask Blake out on a date?”

  Is she serious?

  Does she even know what she’s saying?

  “Yes, I have feelings for him, and yes, I also know things between us can never be the way it was once,” I firmly state.

  “I have no idea what he’s really up to, but I’m sure his plan
doesn’t include a relationship with me.” I drum my fingers on the tabletop and ignore the tightness in my chest.

  “I’m not denying he has some feelings for me.”

  “But?”

  “No buts.”

  “Okay. Forget it. That won’t lead to anything at the moment anyway,” she relents.

  “You better tell me what you meant when you said it wasn’t the first time you witnessed something like that.” She sounds enthusiastic, which is exactly what bothers me.

  “And here I had hoped you didn’t hear that sentence.”

  “What are you thinking?” she replies with a sassy smile on her lips, rummages through her purse and pulls out a pack of chewing gum.

  “Want a piece?” She holds out a pack of Hubba Bubba.Watermelon and strawberry flavor.

  “Thanks, not for me,” I refuse, shaking my head and watch her shove the green cube gleefully into her mouth.

  Heather is not only sweet looking, she also likes sweet things. Especially if it’s edible.

  She’s a sweet little thing with a much too curious character.

  It’s no secret I cannot stay mad at her for long, which the little minx exploits regularly.

  “You’re missing out on something,” she mumbles indistinctly and blows a green bubble that shortly after bursts with a loud pop.

  “Well, go ahead,” she demands while chewing.

  “On my first night, when we went out to the Diamond, I caught him in the ladies restroom in a pretty obvious pose, definitely receiving a blowjob.”

  Heather’s brows shoot up expressively as she carefully listens to each and every one of my words.

  “Continue.”

  “That’s it.

  I was a bit … perplexed, turned around instantly, and left the two alone.”

  When I recall that I even apologized for my intrusion, I’d like to scream loudly.

  I wasn’t thinking. Walking in on them, I felt incredibly stupid and out of place. All I wanted to do was to run away. Away from the scene that etched itself in my brain.

  She presses her lips thoughtfully together.

  “And then what happened?” Her look softens a bit.

  Her question makes me roll my eyes.

  “He followed me.” And kissed me, I add to myself.

  Since I don’t feel like adding more fuel to the fire, I omit this little detail.

  “He was babbling about something that was not meant for my eyes and that he impulsively followed me.”

  “That wasn’t it, right?”

  “No.” My gaze wanders aimlessly through the club and eventually stops on a couple who only have eyes for each other.

  “His little girlfriend ran after him, confronted him and made a scene. You should have seen her.”

  “And, what did you do?”

  “I stood there like an complete idiot,” I confess, grinding my teeth.

  “There’s no reason for me to ask why you didn’t just leave, is there?” One corner of her mouth twitches treacherously.

  “Do you think that’s funny?” My gaze turns gloomy.

  “I’d be lying if I said I don’t find his self-centered way bloody attractive.”

  Before I can tell her where to shove her attraction, the waiter arrives with the pizza.

  “So?” After wrapping her chewing gum in a paper napkin, she grabs a large slice of salami pizza, raises it to her mouth, and takes an appreciative bite.

  “What were you gonna say?”

  “That you’re impossible,” I answer her question and grab my phone.

  “You already mentioned that,” she replies as she chews and pushes her plate to me.

  “Want a slice?”

  “Why the hell not?” Pizza is always good, especially when it comes with extra cheese. Especially, when you love cheese like me.

  “Is something wrong?” she wants to know, gesturing at the phone in my hand.

  “No, why?”

  Heather shoves the last bite into her mouth, licks her cheese-stained fingers, and gives me a serious look.

  “Since looking at your cell phone, your face has taken on those thoughtful traits.”

  Caught, I turn away from her gaze.

  “It’s nothing. I just received a short message from Nathan.”

  “Uh-huh.” She sounds annoyed. For whatever reason.

  “What?” I ask, anxious to know what problem she has now again.

  Sighing, she pushes a strand of hair out of her face and tucks it behind an ear.

  “Wasn’t it enough to agree to go out on a date with him? Did you have to give him your private number, too?”

  “Surely, a little variety can’t hurt,” I say and try it with a smile, but she doesn’t bite.

  “Besides, what choice did I have other than giving him my cell phone number.”

  “Facebook? Email? Snail mail? There are so many possibilities.”

  My brow shoots up. “Communicate through the postal service? Are you serious?”

  She merely shrugs her delicate shoulders, grabs another slice of her pizza, and takes a bite.

  “So what?” she says after swallowing the first bite. “It worked fine in the early days.”

  “But we live in the here and now. It’s common practice in times of the Internet.”

  “Well, I guess I’m old-fashioned in that regard.”

  “You are not, which you know perfectly well,” I refuse.

  “For some unknown reason, you don’t like me seeing him. You’re too fixated on Blake, kind of obsessed with him. Believe me, going on a date with Nathan will be nice.”

  “Nice?” she manages to choke out and exaggeratedly rolls her eyes.

  “Nice is the little brother of … never mind. Eventually, you’ll realize he’s not the one you want.”

  “For a change, why don’t we talk about your love life?” I inquire curiously and smile devilishly.

  “Forget it. You won’t find anything interesting with me. Don’t force yourself and quietly dig around for dirt where none exists.” She smiles smugly at me and pushes the last slice of pizza to me.

  My eyes regard the plate suspiciously. “Don’t tell me you are bribing me again to divert attention from the subject?”

  “I don’t have to resort to such tactics.” Her expression does not betray any nervousness. “I live a totally common and boring life, believe me.”

  Is she withholding something from me? Is she just misleading me?

  No idea. But if that is the case, she’s a damn good actress.

  “Okay, if you say so,” I give in and grab the last slice of pizza.

  “To get back to my idea …”

  “Now spit it out already before you explode,” I demand between two bites.

  “There is something else you might want to try …” Her voice takes on a mysterious tone and something I cannot properly classify flashes in her eyes.

  Anticipation and … Amusement?

  When I realize what she’s referring to, my lips unintentionally curl into a smile. “Oh, you little manipulative witch …”

  Normally, I wouldn‘t give a shit about this

  Normally, I’d stay out of it and let things run their course.

  But one crucial point is different.

  I care about her.

  Even if all this time, I’ve tried to convince myself otherwise.

  She gets under my skin, makes me feel vulnerable, and brings feelings I’ve successfully kept under lock and key back to the surface.

  Just one of her smiles is enough for my carefully constructed walls to crumble right before her eyes.

  I’ve made it goddamn clear that she belongs to me and only ME.

  And yet it has come to this.

  My instructions were ignored, I have been betrayed.

  However, those who play games with me will not go unpunished. Those who mess with me will bear the consequences.

  Maybe now is not the right time to confront her.

  Shit, I’m quite sure
the moment couldn’t be worse. Maybe I shouldn’t even interfere at all.

  Is it wrong?

  Maybe.

  Will she freak out?

  That’s a given.

  But fuck!

  I have to do something about this fucking chaos raging inside me like a hurricane before I lose my mind.

  I don’t even bother to knock, just rip open the door and freeze mid-motion.

  What the hell?

  Under other circumstances, I would have enjoyed the spectacular view before me. Couldn’t get enough of her half-naked body lying there on the narrow massage table as if on display.

  But the circumstances are not different.

  No matter how long I stare at the tanned hands massaging the oil into her delicate skin in a steady circular motion, they do not disappear.

  A menacing growl bursts from my throat as this shithead looks at me and his lips turn into a smug smile.

  He knows what’s going on here. She talked to him, his gaze tells me as much.

  Blinding fury rises hot and fiercely within me, threatening to steal my sanity.

  My hands clench into fists as I try to understand why she did this.

  Why she has crossed the line again and put me in this situation.

  I don’t know what pisses me off more.

  The fact she allows this guy to touch her so intimately or that she has betrayed me by talking to him about us.

  “What is going on here?” I want to know and suppress the urge to stare at his fucking hands.

  My voice sounds cold and controlled.

  Exactly the opposite of the furious anger blazing inside me, which is hidden by the facade I’m trying to maintain an iron grip on.

  “What do you want, Blake?” She sounds tired and … resigned.

  “I asked you a question,” I ignore her question. “What’s going on here?”

  An annoyed sigh bursts out of her mouth.

  “What does it look like? I’m getting a massage. At least until a moment ago when you barged in like a madman and interrupted us.”

  The corner of my mouth twitches treacherously. “Interrupted you? At what?”

  She turns her head in my direction and looks at me stubbornly.

  “I have just answered this question. So, is that it then? The massage was expensive and I hate to waste my valuable time discussing trivial things with you.”

  I reach into the back pocket of my jeans, pull out my wallet, and carelessly toss a few bills on the dresser next to me.