Page 111 of Pretty Little Lies

However, he wants a supposed shot, so here it is.

He fucks with my family, I will bury him so deep in the ground, because this is as close to me as you can get.

A knock sounds on the door, and my heart plummets into my stomach.

Levi.

Though, he’d probably know that Torin is here and not make an appearance to keep along with our ruse. However, it doesn’t stop me from eyeing the door like the whole SWAT team is going to bust through it at any minute.

Whipping it open, my heart that was just dragging itself along the bottom of my stomach begins to pulsate back into a brisk beat as Reeve stands on my porch with a plastic baghanging from his forearm, and a smile that could slice right through a girl’s worst day.

His striking hazels plunge down the front of me while mine mock the same.

He’s in black joggers and a G-Eazy shirt that saysLet’s Get Loston it. That wheat-colored hair that’s aimlessly on top of his head, like he just rolled out of bed, begs me to just run my fingers through it and kiss him like he did to me in the woods.

You got it, you got it bad…

Shut up, Usher.

“Hey, McQueen,” he greets, sliding his mixed greens and browns at me. “You’re lookin’ fine as fuck today.”

Boy, don’t get me started.

I nod to what he’s holding instead and try to keep my face placid. “What’s in the bag?”

“Things,” he deadpans.

“Depending on what things is going to keep this door from slamming into your face.” I pop a brow, and his lips coil into a small smile.

Reaching inside his bag, he pulls out a giant plastic jar of peanut butter. “I heard you’d eat anything with—” My closed fist thrusts into the crook of his shoulder as he laughs and seizes my wrist, pulling me into his space and wrapping said hand around my waist to the middle of my spine.

“Can’t blame a guy for tryin’, baby. I’ve been thinkin’ about you for days now.”

My brows knit because charm, pretty things, and compliments never really worked for me before. All I can think about is the past and how devastating that was for me.

So much so that I haven’t dated since Matteo, and that alone is depressing as fuck.

“You don’t believe me,” Reeve vouches confidently, but holds no amount of animosity in his tone. “You should. I’ve never been a liar.”

“It’s hard to,” I reply, but that’s all I say. I’m not looking to go into a therapy visit with him right now.

“If I kiss you, will that be a lie too?”

“Maybe.”

“Wanna make a bet on that?”

I inhale, that salty mixture of him and the sea settling my nerves. “No.”

“Because I’ll win?”

“Because you can’t pull a truth or a lie out of a kiss.”

Reeve perks a brow. “Like I said, wanna bet?” He closes the void between us.

The kiss is soft and effortless, just like him.

Just not like this situation.

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