Page 55 of Even if You Fall

As if my words snapped something inside him, his stare shuttered as he took a step back and glanced toward the door as if looking for an escape.

I at once wanted him to take it so I could breathe and clear my head, and for him to step back into my space and cradle my neck in his large, tattooed hand the way he’d done this morning.

It was ridiculous that I was disappointed when he took a step toward the door.

But just as quickly as he started away from me, he paused, his muscled body trembling with the same indecision I felt before he stepped close to me again, closer than before.

“You said you don’t lie because you enjoy it,” he began, his voice gruff and pleading. “You said you lieforpeople. And I swear I thought I saw why when we were walking through the shops because that mask you wearchangedpeople just from passing by them. It made their entire day whenever you forced all that sunshine and joy into your conversation with them.”

This time, when my heart began racing, it was for an entirely different reason.

Once again, Adam was too close to the truth.Mytruth.

And I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. I’d never had anyone challenge me before, and it made me panicky that hecontinued to do so. It made me anxious that this man saw me too clearly and in a way no one had ever tried to.

Not that there was some sinister reason behind why I was the way I was. It was just that I was afraid if anyone found out, everything would come crumbling down around me, and I would lose my grasp on the outward appearance I’d struggled so hard to perfect and maintain.

Dipping his head closer, he said, “I could’ve also sworn you werethis closeto telling me everything this morning.” His eyes bounced between mine, which I was trying so hard to keep neutral, but something in them must’ve answered for me, because he subtly nodded. His voice lowered to an understanding whisper when he asked, “Now tell me, Chloe, how many people have you wanted to share your lie with?”

My breath came out on a shaky rush at the hushed, gentle way he said my name—as if I could handle this man saying my name at all.

“Think it says something that I keep being the only one,” he said as if he already knew the answer without me uttering a word.

My tongue darted out to wet my lips, my head moving in the smallest shakes. “Has anyone ever told you you’re awfully arrogant?”

“Am I wrong?”

As much as I wanted to, I refused to look away from where he was studying me. Instead of answering, I reverted to our earlier conversation. “I told you, this new tactic?—”

“This isn’t a tactic,” he ground out.

“Who’s lying now?” I demanded, then lifted my hand to gesture to where he was standing so close to me, but he was trulysoclose, that I ended up pressing my hand to his firm chest and pushing him back. “I know you don’t care about me, and I’m still positive you hate me, despite what you keep saying.”

“Chloe—”

“No, I know what this is,” I told him, my voice rising. “You’re doing what you can to get your answers. You’re trying to trick the nerdy loner into thinking someone could actually like her, when I’ve already fallen for that before. Which, you’re aware of, since y’all have been poring over the only relationship I’ve ever had, and that obviously ended up being painfully, humiliatingly fake.”

Just as Adam started responding, three quick knocks sounded on the door, pulling us out of the bubble we’d found ourselves in.

He stared at me for long seconds as if contemplating not answering it before a muttered curse left him. “It’s my dad,” he told me as he stalked across the room to open the door.

I waved back when his dad excitedly waved at me, then watched as Adam and his dad had a short, seemingly intense conversation before his dad left.

“How’d you know it was your dad?” I asked when Adam shut the door again, the movement as slow and measured as his breaths.

“The knock,” he answered. “Chloe?—”

“What’d he say?”

A heavy sigh left Adam when he finally turned to face me and leaned back against the door. Folding his arms across his chest, he hesitantly answered, “Dinner’s ready.”

“Great,” I began, grateful for any excuse to avoid the conversation he so clearly wanted to continue.

“Told him it wasn’t a good time.”

“Well, that’s rude.” I gave him a look to let him know he couldn’t just tell the people hosting us and cooking for us that itwasn’t a good time, then gestured for him to get his bags and leave. “If you’ll let me get settled in here and freshen up really quick, I’ll meet you out there.”

His eyebrows drew close as he glanced at the bags at his feet. When he looked away from them, I was sure his unease could be felt from across the room. “Uh...we, uh...we’re sharing this room.”

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