Page 16 of Deceit

Technically, I don’t have my license. I learned how to drive in London, but I haven’t even been here long enough to attempt to get one. There is no way I’m calling my father. If he finds out about this it’ll be my head, I’m sure of it.

I guess I could call a rideshare or something, but walking is the best way to clear my mind. I don’t really know where I’m going, but my feet just keep carrying me further and further away from campus, which is really all I need right now.

Three or four miles in, my feet begin to ache and I end up stopping outside a bar and grill. Hopefully, I won’t run into anyone that knows me or my face here. Maggie showed me the picture, that’s actually what woke me up. Her hurried knocks at my door, followed by the humiliating photo of me asleep, drool coming out of my mouth beside my cum stained pillow and Asher’s lovely note.

To say it’s been a terrible start to the day would be an understatement.

When I step inside, I notice the restaurant is significantly darker than I expect it to be. It takes my eyes a moment to adjust when a familiar figure comes from what looks like the bathrooms, nearly knocking me over in the process. His hands quickly stabilize me, his bright blue eyes pinning me in place as he looks at me.

At first, surprise is written all over his face. Then, concern covers his features as his eyes flick over me.

“What’s wrong?” Ronan asks.

I do my best to smile, shaking my head as if everything was right as rain, but he isn’t buying it.

“Your mascara is all over your face, Skyla.”

Panicked, I reach my hand up touching my wet cheek and internally curse. Well, this is just wonderful. I’ve been parading myself all over Salem looking as broken as I feel right now.

Ronan’s hand slips to my lower back as he gestures to a corner booth in the back. Wordlessly, I follow him as he stops by the bar top, grabbing a glass of water and a few napkins. He dunks the napkins in water before handing them to me. I hesitate to take them for a moment.

“I don’t have any makeup with me to re-do it.”

He frowns. “So?”

“So, everyone will see my bare face. They’ll think I’m some hot-mess girl who doesn’t care about her appearance.”

“And black tear-streaks don’t say that?”

My lips smash against each other, his point more than taken as I grab the napkins from him. I pull out my phone, turn on the selfie camera and cringe when I see myself. God, this is humiliating.

Slowly, I scrub away every scrap of makeup left on my skin. When I’m done, I set the makeup coated napkins on the counter before I lower my face. Maybe, if no one sees me, it won’t be that bad. They won’t notice my dark circles or how my cheeks are always a little more red than the rest of my face, and hopefully they’ll miss the scar here and there from good old hormonal acne.

“Why are you so worried about not wearing any makeup? You weren’t in the pool?” Ronan asks.

“It’s different. I wasn’t supposed to see anyone in the pool, this is public. Anyone could see me and—”

“And?” he interrupts.

I shrug. “Judge. Talk.”

“So, if you would have known I was going to be in the pool, you would have put on makeup? Despite having your face submerged for a significant amount of time?”

I think about that for half a second before I have my answer. Would I have much rather preferred having my metaphorical war paint on when dealing with the grumpy tattooed swimmer and the unfairly hot swim coach? Absolutely.

I nod. “They make waterproof makeup for a reason.”

Ronan doesn’t seem impressed by my answer though, instead just shaking his head as he reaches for the beer sitting on the table, lifting it to his lips and taking a healthy sip before setting it down.

“You don’t need that shit anyways,” he grumbles, almost to himself more than anything.

“Makeup?” I laugh. “I definitely do.”

“No,” he says seriously, his eyes ensnaring me as he speaks. “You don’t.”

Something inside of me twists at his words, and I find it difficult to swallow for a moment before I nod.

“So, what’s wrong?”

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