Page 39 of Deceiving Grier

Yet, as good as things were between us, I couldn’t help but fear I was making a mistake. As if my life in The Square, my time with Sawyer was limited. In just a few months, I would be leaving him and everyone else behind, and my growing feelings for him would only make it harder when the time came.

The whole thing was just too depressing to think about. Besides, I had months before I needed to worry about leaving. I wouldn’t let thinking about my bleak future ruin my plans for tonight.

Soon Sawyer would be home from covering a story for the University’s paper about some speaker hosted by the school's anthropology department. Jett was out tonight with a guy he met at The Dunes last weekend. He probably wouldn’t be home for hours, if at all, giving Sawyer and me the place to ourselves for the night.

We had big plans, Thai takeout and sex where we didn’t have to worry about waking up anyone else in the house.

In the meantime, maybe I could pull a few random titles from Mackenzie’s library, see how hard it would be to appraise the books’ values based on what I could find out from a Google search. I moved from shelf to shelf, plucking random books and setting them down on Sawyer’s desk behind me.

Once I had about a half-dozen titles, I turned to gather them up but froze when my gaze landed on Sawyer’s open laptop screen. The mouse must have jolted when I’d thumped the books on the desk. The screen was on and a document was open. Normally, I wouldn’t have paid it any attention except my name was there, typed out on the page that looked like a series of bulleted notes?

• Claims to have never met Mackenzie. Finn/Alistair the connection?

• No explanation for low rent. Does he wonder why? Does he already know?

• Claims no knowledge of the fire/suspects

• Set the fire? Mackenzie house reward?

My stomach dropped like a frozen stone off a cliff.What the fuck was this?

Under normal circumstances, I would never have considered prying into someone else’s belongings or reading their private writings. Except clearly, Sawyer was writing about me, us. All our names were there; me, Jett, Alistair, Finn, even Bailey and Lana, and under each of our names, a list of questions and bulleted notes that all seemed to relate to the fire that had burned down our old house.

I scrolled further up the document. Both Greyson and Oliver Mackenzie were there too, and under their names, more questions and notes, but this time there were lengthy summaries describing both men and their achievements.

What the hell was all this?I felt cold down to my soul, as if my insides had iced over. My stomach churned sickly, leaving me nauseous.

“What are you doing?” Sawyer said, suddenly standing in the opening to the study. A bag with our dinner clutched in one hand.

Vaguely, some part of me said I should be ashamed to have been caught snooping, but the voice was distant and muffled, smothered by a slow simmering fury humming beneath my skin.

“Are youwritingabout us?” I asked, my voice deceptively calm.

Sawyer opened his mouth to answer but hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully.

“Don’t lie,” I said.

His throat jumped, and he nodded. “I’m working on a piece about Oliver and Greyson Mackenzie, about Greyson Mackenzie’s suspicious dealings with his father’s legacy.”

Suspicious dealings? What the hell was he talking about?“Then why is my name here and Jett’s and Alistair’s and Finn’s. Christ, you even have Lana and Bailey in here!”

“Right.” He came towards the desk and set the takeout bag down next to the books I’d taken from the shelves just moments ago. “Let me explain.”

I nodded and moved back, determined to keep space between us. Minutes ago, I’d been moping at the idea of having to leave Sawyer at the end of the school year. Now I felt as though I was looking at a complete stranger.

“So, here’s the thing,” Sawyer said, sinking into the chair behind the desk. “The first day I came here, the day Jett showed me the room. I wasn’t actually here to rent a room. I came to interview you both for a piece I’m working on.”

“Why would you want to talk to us? I’d only spoken to Oliver Mackenzie a couple of times when he was our landlord, and I’ve never even metGreyson.”

“It was the fire,” Sawyer said.

“Right, the fireyou’renot sure if I had a hand in setting!” I blurted.

“I don’t think that. Not really.” Sawyer stood from the chair and took a step towards me, but I shifted away from him. Determined to keep the same space between us.

“Actually, youdothink that. It’s in the list of notes right under my name. ‘Set the fire? Mackenzie house reward?’. So, just to be sure I’m getting the angle you’re working from, your theory is I burned down my own house, almost killing one of my best friends and destroying everything we owned, and then Mackenzie rewarded me with nine months of low rent. That’s really what youthinkof me?”

“No! Shit, no.” He dragged his hand through his hair. “I don’t think you would do that. It was just a possibility that occurred to me, and I write down everything when I’m researching a story, no matter how outlandish.”

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