Page 3 of The Roommate Lie

I can’t prove it, but I can feel it in the air. Her boyfriend canceled last minute, and now she can’t reach him? On their anniversary? Either that man is truly swamped at work and this is all a misunderstanding, or he didn’t want her to come out here for a different reason. And now he’s avoiding her.

Beside me, Carl—good, responsible Carl—must be thinking the same thing. Because he does the unthinkable.

“Is there a taxi in town I can call?” she asks. “I just need to get to the resort.”

My brother shakes his head and tells his first lie of the week. Maybe the entire year. “Just one, but it isn’t very reliable. Even if we call, there’s no telling if they’ll actually show up.”

The only truth in that statement is the “just one” part. While there’s always been only one taxi cab in Ponderosa Falls, Reba Tipton always shows up. What she won’t do is care about how bad your boyfriend is and make sure everything’s fine before she ditches you at your stop. And the girl in front of us is going to need a lot more than a quick drop-off. We’re going to have to make sure she’s okay.

I’ll be the first to admit I’m no angel, but I’m nothing like the guys my sister dated. I know how to take care of what’s mine, and I know how to step up when I need to. Besides, Roscoe boys don’t leave any girl stranded. Maybe our dad was a walking red flag, but our mom raised us better than that.

Carl scratches his hand along his beard. “You know what? Why don’t we let Charlie drive you to the resort?”

It pains him to say that, though not as much as it pains her to hear it. That blush on her cheeks goes lava red, and she still won’t look at me. But neither of them has much of a choice.

Carl is the assistant manager, and our boss has the day off. His shift lasts until closing, but I’m off the clock in the next few minutes. And the girl with the bad boyfriend? It’s pretty clear she’s stranded, that she needs my help, but she throws out a few Hail Marys.

“Is there a city bus I could take or a rideshare? I’d hate to be a bother.”

Carl shakes his head, and this time he’s telling the truth. “Ponderosa Falls is too small and isolated for rideshares. It isn’t worth the effort for drivers. And our local bus doesn’t go to the resort. It just drives from one side of town to the other.”

The woman sighs, and her blush holds steady as she finally glances at me, stuck. There’s so much apprehension in her eyes, it makes that feeling pull in my chest again. Twice in the last five minutes—that must be some kind of record. The sensation feels a lot like regret, but I refuse to speculate.

I try to look trustworthy, harmless, but she’s not buying it. Not after the stunt I pulled earlier. There’s no such thing as a friendly shark.

Carl tries to reassure her next. “Charlie’s an idiot, but he’s a responsible idiot. He’ll get you there in one piece.”

She still doesn’t look relieved. Mumbling a quick thank-you, she scurries to gather her luggage like a field mouse tryingto brace for a winter storm. As if she can sense danger on the horizon, but there’s nothing she can do to stop it.

As soon as she leaves, my brother smacks me with a bus schedule again before tossing me his car keys. “Just get her where she needs to go, make sure everything’s fine, and get out of there.”

I nod, giving him a Scout’s honor salute that makes him smack me again. Harder this time.

“I’m serious. And, Charlie?”

Carl waits for me to glance over, until he’s sure he has my complete attention. Then his voice gets so serious, it makes regret pull in my chest one last time. Mostly because of what his words imply about me. About the kind of guy everyone thinks I am, even my older brother.

“Keep things professional, okay? No matter what.”

Chapter Two

ALICE

I’m riding in a car with a stranger, a guy from the bus station I met five minutes ago. I don’t even know his last name. If my father was a superhero who could sense danger, he would’ve put a stop to this a million times.

I kind of wish he would. BecauseI’m riding in a car with a stranger.

Once that realization sinks in, I’m done for. Charlie From the Bus Station says something harmless about the view, and I’m too busy looking for escape routes to respond.

There aren’t any, if you’re curious. Escape routes. Just a thin canyon road that’s carved into a mountain. Nothing but rocks on his side of the car and a steep drop-off on mine.

Even if I needed to escape, to fling myself out of his moving vehicle, there’s nowhere to go but down. Nothing to break my fall except miles of empty air before I hit the valley below. It’s the very definition of a last resort, but I tuck it away for later. Just in case.

“You okay over there?” Charlie asks as he eases around a bend in the road.

I nod.

Before he can ask any follow-up questions—or murder me while driving—my phone buzzes with a text. But it isn’t my father. Or my boyfriend.

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