Page 51 of The Liar's Reckoning

Iwish I hadn’t said anything about wanting to talk or explain or whatever it was I said in the cab. I’d love to refer to my notes, but I don’t need to. I’d been honest, which is easy enough to do in a stream of consciousness. “This doesn’t have to be complicated,” I say, partly to myself, but meant for him, too.

Graham is leaning, arms and legs crossed, against his kitchen island, staring at me. Waiting. Restlessness is making a mess of me. So much energy to burn and only one way I want to do it. I assume he’s on the same page—bringing me here, but I’ve turned him wary. Somewhere along the way I went too far trying to pretend I have any sort of boundaries, or I wasn’t interested.

The truth is, I’ve been too interested from the start. He feels like my fate. While I believe in coincidences, I don’t think his persistent presence in my life can be explained away that easily. He’s more like a lesson I’m supposed to learn. And like I told him, I don’t think it’s going to be a good lesson.

The more distance I’ve gotten from Ben’s bed, though, the more memories I’ve had of last night, and the more I can’t stand myself. Ben never said he wanted me back, but he knows me wellenough to know that would have sent me running. Instead, he’d fed me shots and long looks, coaxed me onto the dance floor so I could remember the way we moved together.

He kissed me, and I melted. Going home with him was a mistake, but I was too dick drunk to refuse. I’m lucky he passed out after I blew him, but not before he kissed and jerked me to orgasm, hence the stained underwear I’m no longer wearing.

Last night makes the breakup feel like a raw wound. Unnecessary and unnecessarily painful. It hurts enough that I’m ready to make a bigger, better mistake.

“So, you showed up,” I begin.

Graham nods, giving me nothing.

“But you didn’t want to run, you wanted to bring me here.”

That puts a twist on his mouth, and he breaks eye contact.

“I’m not knocking it. I came, didn’t I?” I say, like he needs the reminder that I am, in fact, here.

“You said you wanted me.”

“I do want you,” I admit. “But if you want to know why, I won’t have an answer other than I think you’re hot.”

“Yeah, all right. Well, I guess I should let you know Avery and I actually had sex. She wants kids, and I figure that’s probably a good idea.”

The words hit me like a slap. I hate knowing that. My face gets cold, and my lips tingle. Tightness fills my chest, and my clothes feel like they’re strangling me. “I’m sure you’re right,” I choke out. “How was it?”

“The sex?”

I nod.

“Unexpected.”

That doesn’t answer my question. “What does that mean?”

“It just sort of happened. I didn’t get much say in it.”

“Did it feel good?”

“It was fine.”

“Does she make your dick hard?” I ask.

“Not…no.”

“Do I?”

He sighs. “I don’t know.”

Maybe I like the competition, but his confession emboldens me. “Are you planning to let me try?” I ask, taking a step toward him. He uncrosses his arms, and I take it as an invitation to move closer. I stop about a foot away.

“I guess I’m easy, too,” he says.

I glance down at the newly formed tent in his pressed pants. “You want me to take care of that?”

“We’re done talking?”

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