Page 73 of Tell Me Something True

Tabitha glanced around the room. It was small and narrow with her queen-sized bed taking up the entire length of the longer wall underneath two large windows.

“Next to the closet door, please.”

The small walk-in closet separated her bedroom from the tiny bathroom that also had access from the kitchen.

Miles and Reed didn’t move. Thinking she was blocking them, she tossed the bag with her bedding onto the already full mattress and pressed back against it. But they only exchanged one of those guy looks—the kind males gave each other when women were being so very silly thinking their funny little thoughts with their tiny female brains.

“It won’t fit,” Reed said.

“It’ll be fine,” she said, even though technically he was right. It wouldn’t fit flat against the wall. “Put it kitty corner.”

Even then she wouldn’t be able to pull the drawers open more than a few inches, but she’d make do.

“We could move the bed,” Reed suggested. “We could put it there” —he gestured to the far corner of the bedroom against the interior wall— “And the dresser there.” He pointed to the shorter wall near the bedroom doorway.

It was a good idea. One that would utilize the space better and allow her to have room to not only fully pull open the dresser’s drawers but also leave her a spot big enough to put a bedside table.

“It’s fine this way. I prefer to sleep next to the window.”

Let them make of that what they would.

Just because she was trying not to lie anymore didn’t mean she was going to hand over her truth, her whole truth, and nothing but the truth all willy nilly.

Reed gave her a slight nod—acknowledging her right to put her bed wherever she wanted—then bent his knees, ready to lift the dresser again.

But Miles didn’t move. He was too busy watching her from behind his dark sunglasses, hiding behind them even while they were inside, studying her to his heart’s content without giving away any of his own thoughts.

Lifting her chin, linking her hands at her waist, she gave him a small, serene smile.

Even if she did let him in a little bit, like she’d done three weeks ago when she’d admitted she didn’t like to be restrained, when she’d submitted to his every command, he’d only see what he wanted.

Just like he’d done ten years ago.

His mouth tightened ever so slightly, the only sign of emotion he’d shown her other than that brief anger on the stairs.

In a blink, that, too, was gone.

She wasn’t the only one who could put on a show.

Reed and Miles were setting the dresser in the corner when Verity came in carrying a large cardboard box marked bedroom on the side in permanent marker. Ian, now wearing a Baby Yoda T-shirt and carrying his book, followed. Reed’s dog brought up the rear of their little train.

And immediately trotted over to Tabitha.

In the act of taking off her purse, she froze. It was like the dog knew she didn’t like him and was determined to change her mind.

And thought the best way to do that was to shove his nose into her crotch every chance he got.

“Titus,” Reed said. His dog swung his head around to look at him. “Go lay down.”

Titus padded away from Tabitha, passing Verity as she came farther into the room, then flopped onto the ground blocking the doorway.

After a quick glance around the room, Verity walked over and set the box on top of the dresser, the only empty space in the room, careful, Tabitha noticed, to keep as much distance between her and Reed as possible.

Poor girl.

She had it bad.

And was none too happy about it.

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