Bittersweet Lies (Bittersweet-Series Book 1) Page 2

  No heartfelt words, no good luck, no drive safe, no I’ll miss you; only pure spite and hatred.

  “You will have no reason for that because I’m not going to disappoint you,” I reply firmly and turn away.

  “Take care of yourself, Brooke,” Emilia pleads, the woman who raised me and has been my solid rock in recent years.

  “We’ll keep in touch. I promise,” I whisper when I notice the wistful expression on her face.

  At this time, who could have guessed that nothing would be as it once was?

  The words from my mother simply don’t want to leave my head, no matter how hard I try to think about something else, something nice.

  Her voice was ice cold as she quietly whispered her threat in my ear and it still gives me unpleasant goose bumps.

  One mistake, one little careless slip, and I am finished, I know that.

  I will not give her that satisfaction; that is what I have been doing for much too long.

  “Everything all right with you?” Shane wants to know and rips me out of my gloomy thoughts.

  “I’m fine,” I reply, quickly glancing in his direction. He has an uncanny ability to see right through my facade of indifference to find the real hidden feelings.

  “How long have we known each other? Fourteen years?” he asks with a sly smile on his face.

  “Long enough to know that you see through me, detective,” I reply with a smile.

  “So? What is bothering you, Brooke? Did your mother say something crappy again to you?”

  My answer merely consists of an annoyed snort.

  “You know she doesn’t mean it that way,” he says softly.

  Shane is someone who sees the good in everyone, even if nothing good exists.

  “She meant it exactly like that,” I insist and look at him insistently. “Mom is no longer the same person she was 10 years ago, Shane. The separation changed her. She hates me.”

  “She does not and you know it.”

  Do I? I don’t even think she can answer that question.

  “We’ll see,” I mumble quietly.

  “By the way, thanks for your support, without it she never would have allowed this.”

  “You’re always welcome at our place,” he replies with that special smile that brings out all the numerous tiny laugh lines in his face.

  “Thanks,” I breathe, relieved that after all these years he’s still on my side.

  “I’ve missed you, little one.”

  “I’ve missed you too,” I answer honestly.

  “So, how are Liam and Blake faring? Are they doing okay?”

  In the past, I spent every free minute with those two, I kind of thought of them as my big brothers.

  However, after a few years, when they unexpectedly had to move, we gradually lost contact.

  “I guess so. Liam is still Liam and Blake has, well … changed,” he says carefully.

  “Changed? In what way?”

  “He misses you, Brooke. Back then, you were inseparable. Once we moved, I almost didn’t recognize him anymore. Something has been bothering him a great deal and I’m sure you are the key to it all.”

  “I could try talking to him,” I suggest.

  “You were always the only one who could get through to him. If he confides in someone, it’ll be you.”

  “We shall see,” I sigh.

  We spend the rest of the ride reminiscing and making each other laugh.

  It feels so incredibly good to be able to be myself again, without having to worry about the potential consequences of my words. California is my stepping-stone to a new, happier life.

  However, no one could have prepared me for what was in store for me there …

  “Isn’t today the day the little one from the pictures moves in with you?” Carter asks, giving me a meaningful look.

  “What do you care?” I growl irritably.

  “Dude, you have to talk to her,” the idiot continues babbling.

  He honestly doesn’t know when it’s time to shut up.

  I narrow my eyes and stand intimidatingly in front of him.

  “Should I tell you what I have to do?” I ask in a dangerously low voice.

  He takes a step back and raises his hands in front of his body.

  “I didn’t mean to offend you,” he says defensively. “… but you may want to think about my words.”

  Carter has been one of my closest friends ever since we gave up our old life and moved to San Francisco.

  If such a thing like real friendships still exist.

  Yes, it sounds pessimistic, but it’s the damn fucking unadulterated reality.

  But seriously, only a few friendships last a lifetime, most merely survive the school days and even that is an insurmountable hurdle for many.

  “Just keep out of that part of my life,” I growl and light a cigarette.

  “I can understand that you’re tense,” he says, trying to be sympathetic. Exactly what I need right now.

  “Ever since your father gave you an ultimatum, you’ve been rather irritated,” he says shrugging and lights a smoke.

  “Are you surprised?”

  He looks thoughtfully at me. “Well,” he starts, takes a deep drag, and blows perfect smoke rings. “… after all, you once were best friends, right? What’s so wrong with being a little nice to her?”

  Shit. Today, someone is truly determined to irritate me.

  “Not interested,” I counter, ill-tempered.

  It is bad enough she will make herself at home in my life against my will and from now on live with us. And I should be grateful and kiss her ass?

  That little princess can wait a long time for that.

  Simply because she has my father wrapped around her little finger with those big brown eyes of hers does not mean I should be smitten with her.

  “Maybe you’ll change your mind once you see her later,” he ponders aloud.

  I snort disparagingly. “Yeah, sure.”

  “Just wait,” he mumbles.

  “Aren’t you seeing that Cindy again tonight?” he asks. His tone betrays what he thinks of the idea.

  “Maybe,” I reply bored. “I’m sure she’ll also be at the party.”

  He narrows his eyes and eyes me questioningly. “You do know the reputation she has, don’t you?”

  “We’ve already covered that subject,” I say unimpressed and walk past him to the car.

  “She’s an easy lay, does what I tell her, and looks good. I don’t care about the rest.”

  “And that she’s the campus whore, who does it with anyone, doesn’t bother you? Not to mention, she’s as intelligent as a slice of toast, so I wonder what you see in her.” He shakes his head in stunned disbelief and crushes the butt with his foot.

  “Ever thought about STDs?”

  “Are you getting in now or should I leave you standing here?” I growl and start the engine to emphasize I’m serious.

  Carter casually strolls around the car and hops in the passenger seat next to me. He must feel certain I will not leave him behind. In my current state, I’m not so sure. Today has been a crappy day so far with no signs of improvement.

  “You really should know me better than that,” I say pointedly with a side-glance and drive off.

  “We always use a rubber. Besides, every so often, I insist she gets herself checked out. She’s healthy, the rest, as I said, I’m not interested in.”

  “Sorry, but I just don’t get it,” he sighs and one hand runs desperately through his blond locks.

  “All kinds of women drool after you and would give anything for one night with you and you select her, out of all of them. Help me understand because I cannot make sense of it. What is so great about this black-haired Barbie lookalike?”

  “She’s good in bed,” I state the obvious and activate the turn signal.

  “Okay, all she’s actually good for is being fucked because she’s willing to do anything,” I correct myself.

  “Besides, like so m
any others, she doesn’t confuse what we share with a relationship. She knows what she has with me and that I only see her as a replaceable fuck-girlfriend.”

  “And that makes you happy?” he inquires.

  “Since when do you care what makes me happy?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

  “Between the two of us, I’m not the unfeeling asshole here,” he replies softly and looks out the window.

  “We are friends. Naturally, I’m interested in your well-being,” he adds seriously.

  Shit. What is going on with everyone lately?

  I’m relatively used to my father sticking his nose into my business, but now also my friends?

  First Nathan, now Carter. It’s like they teamed up and are trying to drive me mad with their questions.

  “I’m fine,” I assure him.

  “Really,” I add when he looks at me doubtingly.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” I repeat skeptically. “That’s it? You believe me?”

  “What else am I supposed to do? It’s not like I can force luck on you and make you stay away from that phony snake.

  You’re simply one of those guys who have to ring in their own doom and gloom before they change their situation.”

  I grip the steering wheel more firmly and press my mouth tightly together into a hard line so I don’t say anything I might later regret.

  “Well great,” I hiss from between clenched teeth, accelerate and take the next turn especially sharp.

  “Fuck, Blake!” he cusses and tries not to bounce against the door by holding the armrest with one hand.

  Have I yet mentioned that I love my car?

  I would not trade my Ford Mustang Super Snake with full black leather interior and 750 HP for anything in the world. Not even for a woman.

  “Really?” Carter scolds and gives me a murderous look.

  He might not portray the nice neighbor exactly with his 6 foot, gym-hardened body, and cranky expression, but appearances are deceptive. Besides, he would never strike without reason.

  Okay, I might have just given him reason to punch me, but he simply respects me too much. Not to mention, he’s half a head shorter than me and I – compared to him – would not hesitate to interfere at the right moment.

  “Relax,” I say calmly, ignoring his pissed off expres-sion.

  “You can only blame yourself.”

  “That’s why you have to fly around the corner like an idiot?” he complains, hissing.

  “Besides, you know I’m right.”

  “Why? Because I live my own life and do what I want?”

  “Because you won’t take advice from anyone and always approach things head on,” he corrects.

  “When will you finally get it into your thick skull that I’m only trying to help you because I don’t want you bed-hopping for the rest of your life?”

  A disparaging snort is the only thing I manage after his announcement.

  Why does everyone think they know what’s best for me? My sex life is no ones’ concern, so why is everyone involving themselves?”

  My father already remarked on my impossible behavior. And since I told Carter about Brooke, he sees her as the reason for all my problems. Also, for my messed up way of relating to women. He does not want to admit that his assumption is complete nonsense.

  The only one who doesn’t bother me with all this shit is Liam. I can always count on him. He is the last person who would annoy me with pseudo moral crap.

  “And when will you finally get it in your head that I don’t need your help and I will fuck whoever and whenever I damn well please?” I growl.

  “I really hope the little one talks some sense into you,” he moans sullenly.

  “Where are we going anyway?”

  “The little one has a name,” I growl annoyed.

  No idea why it pisses me off when he calls her little one. Normally, something like that doesn’t faze me one bit. The fact that this is not the case does not help my already shitty mood.

  “What?”

  “We’re going to a strip club,” I reply instead, ignoring his prying eyes.

  “I’m sure you said something completely different,” he continues.

  Today, Carter is really testing my nerves.

  “Then you must have misheard.”

  “Do you think I’m totally stupid? You have feelings for the little one, no matter how often you deny it. Why else would you get upset when I call her little one?”

  “Carter. That’s enough,” I hiss between clenched teeth and give him a warning look that says he should drop it if he cares about his nose.

  Why the hell does he even ask again when he understood every single fucking word?”

  “Your grumpiness might work on others, but not me,” he replies unimpressed, leaning back in his seat.

  “Why don’t you just admit you care for her, instead of always stating the contrary? The woman gets under your skin whether you like it or not.”

  “Not. Today.”

  He sighs heavily. “Will there ever be a right time?”

  “Can’t we just go to the strip club, have some fun, and analyze the situation to death later?” I suggest, avoiding his question.

  Carter stares at me for a few seconds and appears to be considering if he should go along with my suggestion or continue to talk. “Fuck, Blake, we really need to work on this,” he replies grinning.

  “What do you want at a strip club in broad daylight?” he wants to know.

  I put the window down, light another smoke, and rest my arm on the opening before replying, “Have fun, what else?”

  When I notice my answer does not seem to satisfy him, I try again.

  “Listen, today is just not my day. As soon as Brooke arrives this evening, my life will fundamentally change, I know it.

  Until then, I simply want to kick back, watch chicks dance, and forget all that crap for a few hours. Preferably, with my best friend.”

  I look at him meaningfully. “But, if you are not in the mood for it, I can drop you off at the next bus stop and go by myself. The choice is yours.”

  “Just keep driving before I change my mind and transport your ass back home,” he growls and I press the pedal to the metal.

  “How about you first take time to look around?” Shane suggests. “In the meantime, I’ll bring your bags to your room.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to help you?” I ask with one raised eyebrow. “Women are known for their weighty luggage and we wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself. After all, you are now at an age where you should take it easy,” I continue to tease, barely restraining my laughter.

  “I’ve missed your sassy mouth,” he replies with a grin before disappearing with my suitcases.

  It is completely different compared to their former home. Once a cozy little house, now a luxurious estate.

  Shane’s job as a renowned lawyer for the rich and famous allows his two sons the best education and a life in luxury. And from the heart, I don’t begrudge them this.

  Twelve years. It has been that long since Lucie lost her battle against cancer, leaving her beloved family to fend for themselves.

  Back then, we were still kids and much too young to understand the extent of such tragedy. Maybe we didn’t want to know.

  Shane loves his sons wholeheartedly and has done everything within his power to fill the painful void Lucie’s death left.

  In bare feet, I lightly pad through the house, here and there brush an item with my fingertips until, eventually, I stop in front of several photos.

  Thoughtfully, I regard the family photos that are neatly lined up on the cabinet in the living room.

  Lucie and Shane – both a radiant smile on their lips as they try to persuade their two vivacious toddlers to sit still for a photo.

  Whoever took the shot waited for the perfect moment, capturing the lightness of life.

  Shane gazes dreamily at Lucie and looks like the happiest man on earth.

  It’
s exactly the look every woman dreams of when giving away her heart.

  “You like them?” a deep male voice unexpectedly whispers in my ear and, caught, I cringe.

  “You really have a talent for sneaking up on people,” I say reproachfully as soon as I see the culprit.

  Liam.

  He’s big, dammit, quite big, and handsome, absolutely no resemblance to the picture in my head. Cute, somehow innocent. Two words that now – three years later – seem totally absurd and inappropriate.

  I don’t know what exactly happened, but the cute nerd matured into every woman’s true wet dream.

  “You’re just too tempting,” he counters with a smile. The ambiguity in his statement and the intense gaze with which he eyes me is not lost on me.

  Is it my imagination or is Liam flirting with me?

  His black hair looks as if he just crawled out of bed, which somehow makes him look … sexy.

  Beautiful amber eyes infused with dark specks and any-woman-would-kill-for eyelashes.

  His pretty mouth pulls into a self-assured grin, revealing small dimples in his cheeks. His face is clean-shaven and attractive.

  Intrigued, I let slide my gaze travel down his body and realize with amazement that actually nothing reminds me of his old self.

  The top three buttons of his white shirt are undone so that I can see part of his muscular, slightly tanned chest; the sleeves are casually rolled up.

  He wears a pair of black ripped jeans that ride low on his narrow hips and black, fairly worn Converse.

  “Had enough?” he inquires, drawing my attention back to his face.

  “What?”

  “Are you finished staring at me with your mouth open?” he repeats his question without taking his eyes off me.

  “I wasn’t star–”

  “Yes you were and you know it,” Liam interrupts my objection.

  He’s right. Fuck!

  I don’t stare at men.

  At least not so obviously. And yet for him, it must have looked like I was undressing him with my eyes. Which I was not.

  Honestly!

  I merely couldn’t take my eyes off him because his transformation is too extreme.