Page 37 of Under the Lies

Once she’s inside and the door is closed, I pull away from the curb.

“What about him?” Sayer looks out the window.

“He was just dropping off the car. He’ll be fine.”

Jenkins is the driver I never use. My friends do, just not me.

I turn up the radio to cut out any conversation on the ride to Sayer’s.

Not that it’s needed, she’s too busy nibbling on her fingernail while looking out the window, lost in thought.

We pull up outside Sayer’s building and before the car is even in park, she’s out the door.

“Fucking hell.” Parking, I open my own door and start after her.

“Sayer,” I say as she reaches the stairs to her building.

She stops and slowly turns around. “What?”

Closing the distance, I invade her personal space. “I’m picking you up tomorrow night at nine-thirty.” Eyeing her outfit, I add, “So dress nice.”

Her glare would make a lesser man bend.

I simply smirk as I walk away.

This is going to be fun.

I’m putting in an earring when a demanding knock beats against my front door. My phone confirms the time.

Nine-thirty exactly.

Noah Kincaid is nothing if not punctual.

Too bad for him, I don’t move from where I’m standing in my small foyer, staring at myself in the mirror. I need a minute to collect my thoughts.

It won’t kill him to wait until 9:31. In fact, it’ll be good for him. Patience is a virtue he never bothered to learn. Let this serve as a reminder that I’m not a little toy to push around.

I look ready. Makeup, done. Hair, done. Outfit, done. I look the part, I’m just not sure I can act it. My face thankfully doesn’t portray the tangled mess I feel on the inside.

It’s not butterflies, they’re too delicate for this. Warring in my stomach are Atlas moths who are battling for dominance, stirring up waves of anxious energy.

It’s been so long since I’ve been on a date—which this isn’t—that I feel like my young teenage self about to go out with her crush for the first time. Not that I have a crush on Noah.

I don’t.

Not anymore.

Not now.

I just have a healthy appreciation for the male form. His male form, especially.

The nerves mostly stem from the unknown. I don’t know what to expect and I loathe not knowing. I like to have an idea on what I’m walking into but with Noah…he constantly keeps me on my toes. Tonight is as murky as the sky on a cloudy night.

The knock comes again, more impatient.

Still, I don’t move. Let him stew out there.

My mind is too busy swimming with questions.

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