Page 28 of Loving the Liar

“Oh, thank god,” she sighs from across the lunch table. “Hermes just posted something.”

My phone is on silent in my bag because I’m too scared of the kinds of things I could receive.

“Explain to me why that’s a good thing?” Alex asks as she and Achilles pull out their phones. I don’t. I can’t take bad news right now.

“Because Els won’t be the latest topic anymore,” she answers like it’s so obvious.

“Poor Camila,” Alex sighs. “Those were private pictures.”

“Take this as a lesson, girls,” Achilles chuckles. “Don’t send intimate pictures to your boyfriends. There’s always a chance the guy will betray you. Even if you trust him.”

“Uh, fuck you?” Peach defends, her teeth snapping a piece of carrot from the stick she was playing with a second ago. “How about: guys, don’t betray our trust and privacy by sharing intimate pictures we send you because we trust you? You bastards are always the ones begging for them.”

Achilles is sitting next to me, with Peach right on the other side of the table. He leans over, that chilling smirk he does so well spreading on his face. “For someone who knows we’re all bastards, why don’t you be more careful? Some men really don’t have the best intentions, Peach.”

“Yeah, men like you,” she snorts. “Amanda Carter was crying when she left your house yesterday morning. I was having coffee on the porch when the poor girl slammed your front door. Do you know what she said?”

“I don’t care,” Achilles answers casually.

But Peach insists. “She said, your best friend is fucked up. Don’t let him near any other girls.”

“Who says she was talking about me? Maybe she was talking about Wren.”

Peach opens her mouth, closing it right away, then again. “Uh…”

I’m almost sure her and Wren secretly fuck from time to time when he manages to convince her. But she loves to deny anything ever happens between them because she’s a badass who holds her ground and Wren is known for being seriously dominant in everything he does. Sports, friendship, studies…sex.

Achilles is a sadistic fuck who enjoys torturing us. Playfully. Especially Peach because she’s so strong-headed. So whenever he can, he’ll try to bring up her and Wren. Or worse, like now, make her jealous.

She turns toward Wren sitting next to her, and he shakes his head. “She was talking about him.”

Shrugging, her features harden. “I don’t care either way.”

She does. She cares a lot. She just doesn’t admit it. Not even to herself.

When she turns back to my side of the table, her eyes light up as she looks behind me. “Ella, your brother gets hotter every time I see him.”

“My brother?” I turn around, and there is Luke walking the length of the college dining hall, heading straight toward us.

When I look back at my friends, Wren has a hand tangled in Peach’s hair, forcing her to look down at her plate. “Focus on your food,” he growls.

She only fights him for a second before grabbing another carrot, cheeks flushed like the shy girl she isn’t. Only Wren has that effect on her.

Luke stops by our table, hands in the pockets of his suit, bright blond hair brushed back.

He nods at my friends, not sparing a word to them before putting a hand on my shoulder.

“Els, I’ve been calling you. Come, we need to talk.”

I guess lunch isn’t going to be an option today. It doesn’t matter; I can’t keep anything in my stomach anyway.

Grabbing my bag, I follow him out without looking back.

“Sorry,” I say as I check my phone. I’ve got seven miscalls from him. “My phone was on silent.”

“Don’t worry.” We walk out together, and I follow him to the visitor’s parking lot.

“How did you even get in?” I ask.

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