Bittersweet Lies (Bittersweet-Series Book 1) Read online

  This stinks to high heaven, I must find out what’s going on.

  “Don’t read anything into it,” Blake says. The contempt in his voice is unmistakable.

  “I’m doing this for him, not you.”

  Yeah, sure? And why are you looking at me as if you would love to push me against the wall, rip my clothes off, and have your way with me?

  His eyes flash pure rage, but also confusion and especially lust, which he has a hard time suppressing.

  “Are you in a bad mood?

  Well, that can happen.

  The way I see it, you have three options: you can stay home, sit back, and do whatever it is you usually do when you’re in a pissy mood.

  You can keep your yap shut, come with us and just enjoy the evening.

  Or grow a pair and finally act like a grown man and tell me to my face what your goddamn problem is.

  But, kindly stop acting like an adolescent brat who takes out his frustration on others.”

  I don’t know what nasty game he’s playing, but the constant mood swings are really going on my nerves.

  Why can’t he just stick to one?

  Either he behaves towards me like a real asshole or he lets me know he wants me and my body.

  Who, I might ask, can make sense out of it?

  Instead of talking to me about the reason for his sudden hostility, he cloaks himself in ignorance and silence and punishes me with contempt. I sense we have grown farther apart from each other than I thought possible.

  “Are you finished?” he asks indifferently, giving me a dark look; his hands casually buried in the pockets of his black jeans, his sensual mouth pressed into a thin line.

  Really? That’s all he has to say? He prefers to continue as before and doesn’t think it necessary to at least give me a reasonably satisfactory answer?

  His whole appearance brags self-confidence and arrogance. He knows perfectly well the effect he has on women, on me, which pisses me off tremendously.

  Oh, how much I would give to be able to wipe some of that smugness off his attractive face!

  I want to no longer care, no longer care about him, but it’s just not like that. Everything inside of me is screaming to stay out of his way, banish what we once had from my heart, and not to fall for his games.

  So why can’t I?

  “How long do you plan to continue like this?” I ask snippily, looking up at him with my arms crossed in front of my chest.

  He returns my gaze. Challengingly and somehow … cold. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Liar.

  He knows exactly what I mean.

  My eyes narrow. “Who are you trying to kid here anyway, White?”

  Liam doesn’t interfere, which is wise.

  The last thing I need at the moment is an alpha male who thinks he has to come to my rescue.

  I’m not one of those meek mice that cannot fight back and gets pushed around by big, mean guys.

  The situation with my mother is another matter. With her, I deliberately keep my mouth shut.

  A little smile plays across his lips. “Do you really think,” he starts calmly and casually strolls with smooth steps toward me,” I would waste my time with someone like you?”

  Now he stands close to me, so close I have to roll my head back to be able to look him in the eyes.

  His hot breath wafts over the sensitive skin of my face. It smells of a mixture of fresh mint and cigarettes.

  I’m perfectly aware of his proximity and the fact his body is but a mere inch away. Everything, simply every-thing about him is so damn contradictory!

  But what’s really confusing, I’m not sure if I want to push him away from me or lean against him.

  I rise up on my tiptoes with one hand resting against his broad chest. “Yet, here you are,” I whisper softly in his ear so only he can hear.

  Under my fingers, I feel his strong heartbeat, which is pounding much faster now.

  Before I do something stupid, I drop back down on my heels and break away from him.

  Do I sound completely loony if I say I miss his warmth?

  Yeah, probably so. But, unfortunately, it’s the truth.

  I miss him. Him and the time we had together.

  His proximity and that special smile he had only for me.

  The hours of conversations or the moments where we simply silently sat next to each other and watched the passing clouds.

  He had a talent for always making me laugh when, in fact, I felt like crying.

  While my mind has already accepted that it will never be the way it once was between us, my heart still believes there’s hope.

  Part of me simply does not want to accept that we are finished and it is exactly this part that clings to the idea that everything will be fine.

  I understand my wish is naive and in some way, maybe even selfish.

  Selfish because I know he would be happier if I had not pushed myself back into his life.

  My mind should not busy itself with such things. I should concentrate solely on my studies, everything else is unimportant right now. And yet, I cannot help myself.

  Fuck. I’m so messed up.

  Before I can walk past him to the door, he determinedly wraps his fingers around my upper arm.

  “You won’t get away so easily.” His gaze is intimidating and somewhat rogue. Everything about him radiates raw dominance.

  His posture. Confident and arrogant.

  The way he looks at me. Dark and possessively.

  No. I won’t and I know that.

  His game has only just begun and the stakes we’re playing for is my heart …

  The atmosphere in the car is so thick, it can be cut with a knife.

  Crap. Even that is an understatement.

  It is also statically charged with suppressed anger and sexual tension. An explosive cocktail with a kick. And I’m right in the middle.

  The evening can only get better, right?

  After Blake has made it perfectly clear that, in his opinion, the issue is far from settled, I raise my chin high and, as gracefully as possible, walk past him.

  Wordlessly, Liam and Blake followed and got into the car. For my taste, it was a bit too easy. Perhaps I’m just too suspicious.

  Restless, I slide back and forth on the leather back seat, indecisive about whether I’m doing the right thing by coming along.

  Totally stupid, I know.

  While he might already be thinking about the next best chick, I sit here analyzing the situation to death.

  The evening was supposed to be all about me. But hey, I’m sure nothing will go wrong with him by my side!

  Pensive, I direct my gaze out the side window trying to make sense of the horrible mess in my head. In vain.

  Why is everything so damn complicated now? Why can’t I just let go? At least for a few hours.

  Since the passing city does not offer enough distractions, I focus on the traffic, which always worked when I was a child.

  “About how long are we going to be on the road?” I ask Liam, ending the eerie silence that has prevailed since we left.

  “About ten minutes,” he replied glancing back.

  “Do you think you can avoid dying of starvation until then?” he adds jokingly.

  “I’ll do my best,” I reply amused.

  In his carefree manner, he always succeeds in lightening the mood, for which I am eternally grateful.

  On an impulse, I briefly glance in the rear-view mirror, which turns out to be a fatal mistake.

  Dark midnight blue eyes stare at me so gloomily that I cannot get a word out of my mouth and startled gasp.

  The black eyebrows are pulled into a dismissive line. Accusatory and kind of hurtful.

  Is he upset?

  With me?

  Now, what did I do to him?

  And why the hell does my guilty conscious make an appearance almost simultaneously?

  Okay. What comes next is not only totally absurd, but also
unusually stupid, but can it be he’s pissed off at me because I get along splendidly with his brother?

  At the moment, this is the only logical explanation that comes to mind that would explain his reserved behavior.

  Or … he’s just in a bad mood and is using me as an outlet for his pent-up anger.

  The latter is probably more likely.

  He’s not jealous.

  No.

  It’s simply that he doesn’t like me getting along with Liam because he fears I might flirt my way into his family.

  Right?

  ***

  For the remainder of the drive, I lean back in my seat, close my eyes, and try to ignore his provocative looks that literally burn my skin.

  Because I know he’s staring at me.

  Ten minutes later, when we finally reach our destination, I sigh in relief. The tense atmosphere was almost unbearable.

  I follow them to the entrance where two dangerous-looking bouncers in tailored suits are stationed, checking the endless line of party-goers.

  I immediately recognize that this is no ordinary club. Whoever parties here has money. Lots of it.

  We don’t get in line as expected but head straight for the two bouncers.

  “Mr. White,” the blond welcomes him with a friendly smile and opens the red barrier rope.

  Blake merely nods briefly at him and with smooth, self-assured steps walks by him into the club.

  Naturally, not bothering to wait for us.

  “Come,” Liam says with a cheeky grin on his lips, and as if it was the most natural thing to do, links our fingers and pulls me into the dimly lit place.

  Crap. Either the evening will be a total disaster or the best I’ve ever had.

  To our left is the bar, which is already quite busy. Young women, who skillfully play to the gallery vying for attention and men who just love to oblige them. The golden LEDs, which are located all around, rhythmically light up and are quite eye-catching.

  Shape of you by Ed Sheeran – one of my absolute favorite songs – comes out of the speakers and eases the tension slightly that seemingly clings to me like some disgusting insect.

  Liam leads me to the lounge area, which is a bit secluded and searches for a place for us in the back corner of the room.

  “Welcome to the Diamond. I’m Misty and I will make certain you won’t want for anything this evening,” a red-haired waitress welcomes us.

  “Do you know what you would like to drink?”

  “A Sex on the Beach, please,” I reply after a brief glance at the menu and anxiously await her reaction.

  Liam just mentioned that this club is quite special and abides by its own rules – whatever that’s supposed to mean. I’m not even sure I want to know.

  But I know one thing: plenty of alcohol is served and I don’t have to worry about my age. At least I hope so.

  I don’t even want to think about what my mother would say if she knew.

  Who cares! my irritable inner voice interrupts me.

  It’s right. All those years I’ve yielded to her will. And why?

  Because I believe I’m the reason why my father left us back then and therefore, have a guilty conscience?

  Because it made it easier for me?

  Bullshit!

  Nothing was easier. Nothing at all.

  My whole life is based on one fucking lie I convinced myself of simply because my mother was too cowardly to tell me the real reason!

  The one thing I can thank her for is financial support. Not her love for me or my great childhood. No. That would definitely be lies.

  I don’t even know if she has any love for me. If so, she has a pretty lousy way of showing it.

  Just the thought that my dream is dependent on her unpredictable moods makes me nauseous. Precisely for this reason, I cannot allow myself to mess up.

  Because there is not the slightest doubt, she’ll make good on her threat.

  One day I’ll pay her back every single penny. I’ll clean the slate and live my own life. Unaffected by her intrigues and hatred. Even if it’s the last thing I do.

  “And what can I get you?” she asks him in a smoky voice while completely ignoring me.

  On one hand, I’m relieved she took my order without a fuss, but for some unknown reason her obvious interest in Liam irritates and bothers me.

  “What do you recommend?” he inquires with a charming smile.

  Really? He’s flirting with her? I can barely keep my eyes from rolling.

  An assured smile adorns her lips. “H’mmm,” she hums thoughtfully tapping her blood-red painted lower lip.

  “How about this one here,” she suggests, pointing with her index finger to something on the menu and leans so far forward that she gives Liam a perfect glimpse down her blouse, to which I huff annoyed.

  It’s not like the almost see-through fabric doesn’t already reveal everything.

  “Good choice,” he whispers, winking at her.

  Maybe I should leave them alone, I ponder wryly. Those two seem to get along fabulously.

  “I’ll be right back with your drinks,” she informs us good-naturedly and disappears.

  Am I only imagining it or is she intentionally shaking her ass?

  I have to admit, she is making an effort.

  “So then,” I say with a meaningful glance in his direction. “You like gin.”

  “Judging by your face, it seems you expected something else,” he notes amused.

  “Perhaps,” I reply with a shrug and open the menu again to look at the food.

  “Don’t tell me you’re trying to avoid me?”

  “No, why would I?” I ask and briefly look up.

  “It’s just that you don’t look like someone who would drink gin in his spare time, that’s all.”

  He leans back in his chair and casually crosses his arms in front of his broad chest. “What then, do tell, do I look like?”

  “H’mmm,” I hum exaggeratedly and tap against my lower lip, mimicking the flirtatious waitress. “Like someone who likes to drink rum?

  Besides, aren’t you still too young to drink alcohol?”

  “H’mm,” he grumbles in reply and looks thoughtful at me.

  “Can it be, you’re jealous?” he wants to know and leans so far over the table that his fingertips almost touch mine.

  Deliberately ignoring his penetrating gaze, I again focus on the menu. “No, why?”

  Shit! He must have seen my annoyed expression when Missy or Mary or whatever the name of the red-haired, hormone-driven bimbo is, sunk her sharp claws in his flesh. Obviously, only speaking figuratively.

  “Just a hunch,” he mumbles mysteriously and thus, arouses my curiosity.

  “Tell me already,” I urge, ignoring my rumbling stomach.

  “If looks could kill, I’m sure we would need a new waitress,” he smirks, confirming my fear.

  “Fine,” I reluctantly admit. Denial is futile anyway.

  “Maybe I was a teeny bit jealous. Please, can we now focus on the essentials? You promised me a meal and coincidentally, I starving right now.”

  “Good enough for me.” He sounds satisfied. “For the time being,” he adds with a meaningful smile and also reaches for a menu.

  Just as the situation between us eases, Missy – I have to pick one name – shows up with our drinks.

  As she carelessly plops my cocktail in front of me without so much as looking at me, she serves his drink with utter devotion and extra deep cleavage.

  On the way here, her hooker blouse must have lost another button. Buttons are too overrated anyway.

  “Can I get you anything else?” she breathes seductively while batting her eyelashes flirtatiously.

  Someone seems to need it quite badly, shoots mockingly through my head.

  “Brooke?” he says softly, putting his large warm hand possessively on mine.

  My skin reacts to him, overrun by a prickling, nervous shudder, awakening the urge to close my eyes for a tiny moment.<
br />
  Missy stares unbelievingly at our joined hands before she quietly clears her throat and takes my order.

  That’s right, I think satisfied and smile.

  “I’d like the Triple Thunderburger with extra cheddar cheese and a side order of French fries with mayo and ketchup.”

  Ignoring Liam’s surprised expression, I nonchalantly close the menu and look at her unimpressed.

  “Rare, medium, or well-done?’ she asks sheepishly while avoiding my gaze.

  “Medium please,” I reply politely and relish her confused expression.

  I’m usually not like this, but at the moment, I don’t give a shit.

  “And what can I get you?” she inquires, peering timidly at him.

  If I had not seen it with my own eyes, I might even think I’m facing a completely different person. Liam’s gesture must have provided a hard blow to her self-confidence.

  “I’d like the sirloin steak, please. Also medium.”

  “Thank you for your order,” Missy murmurs and quickly rushes off. It seems she couldn’t get away from us fast enough.

  “The Triple Thunderburger?” he asks grinning.

  “Yes,” I reply boldly. “I’m hungry and I like meat and greasy food. It’s my weakness.”

  “I like it,” he replies smirking, showing perfectly even rows of white teeth.

  “I cannot stand those skinny chicks who only eat greens and are blinded by their superficiality. Just the sight of them is enough to want to puke in front of their skinny feet.”

  “Ditto,” I agree and reciprocate his contagious grin.

  The atmosphere between us is relaxed and even though I’m enjoying myself and his company, I cannot get what Blake did out of my mind.

  What’s wrong with me?

  “I’ll be right back.” I give him an apologetic look and quickly push past him before I have time to change my mind.

  “Let me guess,” he briefly considers while looking at me mischievously, “it’s a woman thing, isn’t it?”

  “Correct.” The lie slips surprisingly easily out of my mouth.

  What else should I have said? Perhaps the truth?

  Great idea, Brooke!

  Given the opportunity, I might as well also tell him that I just lied to him because I was too cowardly to tell him about the incident with Blake.

  While I’m at it, I’ll confess I’m into his brother and simply can’t get him out of my head. That’s just stupid!