Page 10 of Addicted Lies

Everyone’s already done eating and is now lounging around in conversation. Dutton and Posie are quietly talking to my parents, Alina and Will, about the upcoming wedding. And no offense to my brother, but I don’t want to be a part of any conversation when he turns into a groomzilla, which is how I wound up in the same room as these two.

But we were friends before, so I shake off the imposing tension.

“Don’t I always come for the food?” Hawke says sheepishly. It goes without saying that Ford comes for the sweets.

I’m grateful he hasn’t brought up what he walked in on in Dutton’s kitchen and that he doesn’t act any differently toward me because of it.

“Do either of you want a drink?” I offer and place a tray of cookies down on the table in the middle of one of our living spaces. The deep, comfortable sofas and rich wooden tones make the room warm and inviting. I love my parents’ home. Down the hall is my room—my sanctuary when I’m home from college—which, might I add, no boy has ever entered because of a certain overprotective brother.

Ford immediately kicks off the wall, where he was casually leaning, to make a beeline to the cookies. He finally glances at me, and I feel the air leave my lungs as those almost black eyes take me in. He’s silent as he grabs a cookie off the tray. And then two more before he retakes his spot, holding up the wall and staring at his phone.

He’s always on his phone.

What is he doing on there?

Is he messaging someone?

A phone rings, and Hawke smiles as he looks down at his screen. “If you’ll excuse me, I need your bathroom for a moment.”

I frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s been having phone sex with some chick,” Ford says around a cookie.

I stare after Hawke. He really is a manwhore with no shame. I tuck a piece of my long hair behind my ear. Fuck, being in the same room as Ford creates a palpable tension. We never spoke about what happened, and he never replied to my text.

Not that I expected him to.

“You can sit, Chaos. I don’t bite,” he says, still not looking up from his phone.

It irritates me that he won’t even look at me. “I don’t have to worry about you biting when you’re glued to your phone.”

His finger pauses on the screen, and he raises his head. He finishes the cookie and pockets the phone.

Suddenly, my clothes feel too tight.Fuck. I haven’t been touched in so long, and Ford’s gaze alone is always punishing in the way it sees into me. In the memories that flood back to the surface, promising my body pleasure like it’s never known.

“Don’t look at me like that if you don’t expect me to have you crawling to your bedroom so I can spank that tight ass you’ve been swaying all night.”

My jaw drops, and I look away, crossing my arms over my chest. “You seem awfully chatty when you’re talking dirty.”

“I’m only speaking the truth. And I can tell when you’re thinking it, too.”

“How?!” I whisper shout, making sure no one in the other room can hear us. I hear Posie giggle, and I know that more than likely, my brother’s going to drag her into a dark corner. They do that a lot at events—suddenly leave and come back looking like a rumpled mess.

It pisses me off so much how my brother has double standards. He can do it but won’t let me.

“Nothing I’m about to say is sweet. So don’t ask questions you’re not willing to answer for yourself.”

I swallow. Ford’s always been so fucking intense. Even as he leans against the wall next to a blue vase with colorful flowers, he seems to suck it into his orbit like he does with me.

Everything feels hazy as I gravitate toward his provocation like it’s a fucking dare.

I take a step forward.

And then another.

I’m certain everyone still sees me as the baby sister or like a child. But not Ford. He’s the only person who sees me as a woman.

I’m standing in front of him now. “How?” I repeat.

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