Page 84 of Lie for a Lie

“What would you say if I told you I wanted to move away?”

“To where?” he asks me, pulling back a little to take me in.

“I don’t know for sure. A trauma center in a nearby state, most likely.”

I play with his hand still in my lap.

“Paige, you say the word, and I go where you go.”

His words are so heartfelt. I know he is drunk. I know I am vulnerable, but I can’t lie to myself. His smile is the most devastatingly beautiful thing I have seen, minus the drunk one he gave me when I first sat at this bar.

“I want us,” I motion with our interlaced fingers, “to mean something. Not be tied down by either of our previous relationships.”

“Lie for a lie?” he replies.

Raising a questioning eyebrow in response, he smiles softly.

“I wouldn’t miss you terribly if you left.”

He is being playful, and I want to drown.

“Good, because I’m not falling in love with you.”

A wicked smile in answer dances across my lips. I turn towards his untouched drink and chug it in three impressive large gulps before placing the now-empty glass on the bar. Letting out a few coughs accompanying a grossed-out face. I suddenly am fighting the urge to throw up, with panic setting in slightly.

“You good?”

He laughs.

“I’m good,” I say, grabbing my wallet to retrieve cash to throw on the bar before chugging some water.

I extend my hand to Graham.

“My place or yours, handsome?”

His smile is satisfyingly sinful. Savoring my words.

“Your couch is way more comfortable than mine,” he says with a slight chuckle, holding my hand out toward my car. Opening my door for me before climbing into the passenger side. His hand finds mine again as soon as we are on the road. His eyes lock on me the whole ride to my condo, his fingers occasionally playing with my hair. When we got to my condo, Graham looks at me with sober eyes.

By the time we reach the door, I fumble nervously with the keys in the lock not entirely sure why. I finally open the door and throw my keys in the bowl before dropping my backpack onto the floor. We stand in the doorway briefly before locking the door behind us.

“Well, you know where everything is. The couch is all yours. If you want to ruffle some feathers, Chris probably won’t mind if you sleep in their bed,” I say playfully.

“Probably not.” Graham laughs.

“How did you end up at the bar anyway?” I ask.

“Clint. He left once I told him you were on your way.”

We both linger on each other before Graham reaches for one of my hands and gently presses his lips to it. I watch every movement and hold my breath at the contact of his lips with my skin.

“Thank you for coming to get me.”

He interlaces his fingers in mine, and my heart races like electricity is running through it.

“Graham,” I say, feeling like all the air has been sucked out of my lungs.

“I know, but not yet, baby.”

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