Page 20 of Loving the Liar

“You’d know if you’d talked to me when I called.” He shrugs, but it looks fake and forced because he’s not indifferent about this. “That night…I just needed to talk to someone who understands me.”

I can barely believe the disappointment in his voice as he walks away. How can he leave me like this? For dead, hardly breathing.

I need answers, and he knows what he’s doing by withholding them from me.

He’s keeping me close.

I love you

If you spare a smile today. If you send it my way…I’ll drink it up and lock it in a box full of hope.

Maybe you shouldn’t.

Chapter Seven

Ella

Escapism - RAYE, 070 Shake

“Come on, Els. Let me take you on a date.”

I down the shot Enzo just poured me, feeling the need to replace my destructive thoughts with tequila. My dad isn’t even buried and I’m at my sorority house, partying on the first big night out of the year.

I should be ashamed of myself. But I hated him, and this feels like a celebration of my freedom. It’s hard to think about Gerald Baker’s death when most of my anxiety comes from the Circle’s threat hanging over our heads.

“I don’t know.” I hiss from the burn in my throat before biting the lime he feeds me.

He pulls it away and presses his wet thumb to my lips. Licking him with the tip of my tongue, his dark gaze stays on mine even when I pull away.

But my eyes can’t help finding the man at the other end of the kitchen. Chris is with Rose and a couple of other people I don’t know.

I hate the way he laughs so politely, tapping the shoulder of the girl with them in a reassuring way when she blushes from whatever he said. I hear Rose say something rude to whoever bumped into her while walking into the kitchen, and Chris sends her a warning look.

“Rose, for the love of God, don’t get in trouble tonight.”

Christopher Murray, ever the peacemaker of their group. The appeasing figure. The reasonable one. What a load of bullshit.

“How many times are you gonna make me beg?”

My eyes come back to the man in front of me. Enzo’s family is European. Italian, to be precise. And fuck if he keeps those sexy clichés alive. I like him because he’s not from Stoneview. He didn’t go to Stoneview Prep like most of us. He’s a breath of fresh air.

“Maybe a couple more times. You just look so cute doing it.” I look up at him and place my hands on the kitchen counter behind me.

He laughs heartedly, putting a hand on my hip. “I kind of like the way you play, Ella.”

I try my best to keep my focus on this conversation…

Impossible, I’m too busy looking at the other group again. Chris is pouring a drink in everyone’s cup because he’s nice like that.

“Gentleman,” the girl giggles. “Serving yourself last. Are you ever not perfect?”

He chuckles awkwardly, probably hating the comment he receives so often. “I’m far from perfect.”

Finally, something true coming out of his mouth.

At the same time as he holds conversation with the people I don’t know, he watches for Rose from the corner of his eye. The second she asks someone for a cigarette, he grabs her by the back of the t-shirt—still nodding at what the guy is telling him, not even breaking eye-contact—and drags her back toward himself. Like a mom used to multitasking when she takes care of her wild kids, he holds her still while he finishes talking, and then turns to her.

“You told Rachel you would try to stop smoking.” I know Rachel is Rose’s fiancée. “And you asked me to not let you smoke. So what do you think you’re doing?”

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