Page 84 of Loving the Liar

Don’t go with him, Ella. One step toward him and you’ll fall down the slippery slope.

“By brother–”

“Left.”

I lick my lips, and he doesn’t miss it.

“Sweets,” he says in his softened way, making sure he keeps the space between us. “Why don’t you stop thinking so hard and do exactly what you want?”

And that really gets me. Because what I really want is to fuck my ex.

When I take a wobbly, drunken step toward the stairs, avoiding looking in his eyes—avoiding looking at him entirely—we both know that I only have myself to blame for the mistake. Tomorrow, I’ll hurt from how stupid I am, for making the wrong decisions. Tonight? I’m just going to do exactly what I want.

He follows my steps. His hand on my lower back as we both walk down is so light I can barely feel it. For a second, I even wonder if I’m imagining it.

But when he leans toward my ear, I know I’m not making anything up.

“That’s my good girl,” he says with incomparable pride.

This is a mistake, isn’t it?

I don’t get to think about it too much. The second we walk outside, I’m hit with more proof of my intoxication. I put a hand out, desperate to hold on to something, as the street feels like it’s spinning.

Chris doesn’t miss it. He never does. He always knows when I need something, and he makes sure to be the one to provide it. It’s so dangerous. So addictive.

“Come here.” Wrapping an arm around my shoulders, he stabilizes me. “My car isn’t far.”

“She was last seen being led out of a party by a postgrad two years her elder. I can already see the article they’ll write when they find my dead body.”

He chuckles next to me, and I lean closer to him, using him as a crutch. I’m unstable and push into him so hard I can feel his muscles contracting as he stops both of us from crashing to the ground.

“Why would they find a dead body? No one is planning on killing you.”

“No,” I mutter to myself. “You do so much worse.”

He hums in agreement. “Well, you did make me wait four minutes while perfectly aware a punishment awaited.”

Once we’re stopped by his car, he opens the passenger door for me and helps me in. “Let’s hope you can live with the consequences.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Chris

MATCH MADE IN HELL - Dutch Melrose, benny Mayne

She drops her keys the second she tries to take them out of her bra. Then bending down, she accidentally shows me her white lace panties. I’m so focused on them, I almost miss the way she tilts forward, about to crash into her front door from drunken unbalance. At the last second, I wrap my arm around her waist, pulling hard until she crashes against my chest.

“If the ground would just stop moving,” she slurs. “Stupid ground.”

I move her until we’re facing each other and sit her on one of the three Adirondack chairs on the porch. “Stay.”

Picking up the keys and opening the door for both of us, I walk to her again. “Come on.”

Instead of helping her up, I grab her by the waist and under the knees. I straighten up, carrying her in my arms and through the door.

“Did the ground stop moving for you?”

“Of course it did,” I answer in all seriousness.

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