Page 40 of Under the Lies

“I’m not changing.” I cross my arms over my chest, feeling his appraisal.

“You are if I don’t like your outfit.”

“Hi, this is 2019, welcome to the twenty-first century. I’m not changing my outfit if you don’t like it.”

For the third time tonight he smirks, but this one is different than the others. Darker, the beast coming out to play. “Let’s get one thing straight, Sayer. You’re here to help me get your sister to come back. And how we’re going to do that is appeal to her jealousy. Which is going to be obtained by us. What we do. How we act with each other. What we wear.” His eyes scan my body for the second time. My skin feels warm as his eyes drink me in.

“I could be wearing a nun’s habit and she’d try to eviscerate me.”

Noah’s expression doesn’t change, but I like to think he’s laughing on the inside, appreciating my humor, knowing it’s true.

No matter what I do, what I wear, as long as I’m with Noah and my sister sees it, she will freak out.

We both know this. Noah doesn’t need to police my outfits, he’s just doing it to show his dominance. Which is completely unnecessary. His alpha attitude can be felt from across the room.

“We both know my outfit is fine,” I say when his stare becomes too much for me, feeling it sink beneath my clothes. It’s too much, feels too intimate even though he hasn’t made a move to touch me. “Can we just go?”

His nod is sharp as he reaches for my wrist. I stare at it as he pulls me out of my room. Strong and masculine, he holds me in an almost delicate touch. He walks through my apartment like he owns it and I let him, too focused on the feel of his skin on mine. It feels right, having his hand on my body.

“Will you tell me where we’re going?” I don’t appreciate being kept in the dark. A point I made clear last night. Living with my parents and sister, I tended to be the last one to know everything.

“To a party.”

He doesn’t say anymore, but I can fill in the blanks to what he leaves out.

We’re not going to a social gathering, but a social battle. Where people wear their clothes like armor and brandish their words like knives.

Of course Noah was going to pick that as our first official night out as—

“What are we?” I ask when we’re in the lobby of my building.

“Well, to me you’re a barely tolerable—”

I cut him off before his words can hit their intended target. It seems Noah sharpened his swords earlier than necessary. “I meant” —giving him a pointed look— “what are we going to tell people there?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” I echo.

He nods, his thumb tracing circles along my skin. The soft, methodic strokes are a contrast to how tight his body is wound. He’s always on the offense, waiting for a fight.

“The less we say, the more they’ll speculate. The more they’ll talk,” he elaborates, seeing the confusion on my face.

It comes as a shock to no one that I’ve never done anything like this before. I’m not sure of the protocol.

Noah’s fingers find a home under my chin, tilting it up until our eyes lock. “Can you do this?”

I huff, pulling my chin away. “Of course.” I hope my voice is more confident than how I feel. “Can you?”

He smiles, a soft, knowing smile, and pulls us into the cold winter night. As he escorts me to his idling car, I can’t get his smile out of my mind. It reminds me of when we were younger, and he’d come to search me out. Secrets. It’s a smile full of secrets that I’m desperate to learn.

As he drives us to our destination, I study his profile. Strong. Angular. Greco-Roman. A sinful man shrouded in secrets. But despite his appearance, it’s what’s underneath that pulls at me the most.

What he’s keeping locked away.

…I wonder if I can find the key to unlock them.

Arms slip around my waist from behind. I go stiff as they pull me against their hard body before I force myself to relax. Noah. It’s almost scary how instantaneous it is for me to recognize his touch.

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