Page 28 of Devious Lies

I mean, is he serious? I expel a breath and look in the mirror.

This man has a hold on me, and we only kissed once. It isn’t fair.

Damn it, Luc.

The man has been on my mind all week. I’ve had the last two nights off, so I haven’t seen him since Tuesday.

I’ve heard his name plenty though from Sisi and Anna. Sisi is Anna’s nickname for her bestie Giselle, and I can’t even begin to describe how thrilled I am that she asked me to use it.

Anna is a little intimidating to me. Not because she’s mean or anything. But she is married to the king. And I shamelessly chased him up until they got together only recently.

I want to be her friend though, and I’m making strides. Anna is a little shy, and it’s understandable. Her husband is a lot.

Giselle seems to accept me right away. She’s so open and outgoing. We kind of bonded the night she came storming into the Den, looking to take a piece out of Nico’s hide for knocking up her best friend.

Only. Well.

Giselle kind of mistook Angel for Nico and tossed a full pint of beer in his face.

Ever since then, she and Angel have been engaged in some kind of sexually tense warfare.

I don’t know. It’s not really my business and our friendship is too new for heart wrenching confessions.

But I hope it will be.

Pulling my tube of shimmery lip gloss from my pocket, I glide the roller over my lips.

I don’t like heavy lipstick, even gloss, and I am blotting it with a tissue when the bathroom door slams open.

“What don’t you get about you being mine?”

My eyes flash upwards and I see Luc’s steel gaze boring into me.

He looks hot. But also mad.

Like so fucking mad.

He’s wearing a light gray button down and charcoal colored pants. The shirt is open at the collar and with his hands on his hips, the material stretches over his chest and biceps, and I can make out the dark outline of his tattoos through the material.

I swallow.

Feelings I’m not used to flutter inside of me, starting at my stomach and growing through my chest, my throat, all the way to my fingertips.

“W-what are you talking about? You haven’t even seen me in days!”

“You were flirting with the DJ,” he accuses.

“What? I was not!”

“I won’t fucking have it, Maria.”

I turn to face him, my chest heaving with indignation.

This fucker.

“You know, you barge in here bristling like some damn tomcat whose fur has been rubbed the wrong way, but you haven’t even talked to me in days!”

His eyebrows disappear into the dark curls covering his forehead, but I swear I see the corner of his mouth twitch.

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