Page 4 of Lies Like Love

She has two temperatures—blistering hot or ice cold. And she must be reading the same impression I am from this guy because her stare is arctic.

“Bitch,” the guy mumbles and shakes his head.

“Excuse me?”

But he ignores Maren’s glass-cutting glare, turning to me instead. “What about you, sweetie? You want to come out with me and have a little fun. I’ll make it worth your while.”

He lifts a hand to reach for my hair, but it’s stopped halfway to me as a tattooed hand wraps around his wrist, jerking him backward.

“Out. Now.” The other guy shoves him toward the door, and the client stumbles as he almost falls.

With a final look of disgust, the client shakes his head and flips off the room. “Assholes.”

The door to the shop slaps closed behind him, and I finally breathe a sigh of relief until I turn to find someone new standing directly in front of me.

Someone tall, with wild green eyes that make my insides plummet.

The eyes are the key to the soul.

A warninghetaught me to listen to from there on out.

“Oh good.” Maren lifts off the wall and practically bounces with excitement as she clings to my side. “Fel, this is—”

“Jude.” His name is almost a whisper from my lips because I can’t help that my throat still chokes on it after all these years.

He’s nothing like the charming football player with the varsity grin I remember. His green eyes always held an undercurrent of blue, like the opal necklace I used to wear, but now the familiar shade is colder—meaner—as he looks me over.

He’s grown at least half a foot and filled out with solid muscle. His hair is a touch darker, and his skin is littered with ink. A man has replaced the clean-cut teenage boy from my memories, and as he pops his knuckles between us, it draws out every muscle in his forearms.

One moment and every word Maren has said in the past twenty-four hours loops on replay because the green-eyed god who pierced her nose is everything she said and more. Only, she doesn’t know him like I do.

While Jude Carlisle might be every girl’s fantasy on the outside, I’ve met the monster beneath.

“Wait.” Maren pulls back, looking from him to me. “You two know each other?”

Jude smirks because that’s an understatement.

“Look who’s all grown up.” Jude crosses his arms over his chest, and I swear it broadens his shoulders. His gaze moves down so slow I feel the heat of it sweeping over me before his eyes snap back to mine. “Long time no see, Red.”

The nickname I hate still makes my teeth clench. Every boy in school used it because I have red hair, and they were too juvenile to be creative.

But that wasn’t Jude’s reason. He did it because he knew it pissed me off. He did it to get under my skin. He did it because he couldn’t help taunting me to get a reaction.

Something my stepbrother was always so damn good at.

2

Jude

FelicityAlcottlooksasproper as ever. A pristine air around her, even when she’s standing in the middle of a tattoo parlor in downtown LA. She schools her expression like she’s trying to remain calm and collected, while still pinning me with a prissyfuck youglare that reveals all her feelings.

Fel doesn’t belong here in her designer top and high-waisted acid-wash jeans that probably cost more than every piece of art on the walls surrounding her. Everything about her shines and sparkles. From her endless collection of necklaces and bracelets to her bright blue eyes.

While most people walk through these doors to camouflage themselves and hide their skin, she makes a statement standing in front of me not wanting either. And I’m not sure how, after all these years, she’s unchanged in so many ways.

Freckles peek through the makeup on her cheeks and her silky, wild, red hair is tied off her face to contain it. It’s scarlet in certain lighting, but under the lamps of the parlor, it’s a deep strawberry. Like she smells. Sweet, ripe, tempting me to shit I’m not allowed.

“Wait, this is yourstepbrotherJude?” Her dark-haired friend’s eyes go wide, darting between Fel and me, as she puts the pieces into place.

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