Page 42 of Lies Like Love

Something about how Veronica downplayed it. How she said he was the one who told her I was obsessed with him, aches deep in my chest.

But as much as it hurts, it’s a reminder of what we are now. Stepsiblings, nothing more. No matter how much my heart stupidly hurts every time I think it.

12

Fel

Idropmypurseon the table and let out a sigh. “Crap.”

“What’s wrong?” Maren perks up from where she’s sitting on the couch.

“I forgot to get the cash from the parlor when I went by earlier, and I just remembered rent’s due.”

“All good, girl.” Maren takes a bite of her ice cream. “I’ll cover you, and you can get the cash to me next time you have it.”

“No.” Being friends and roommates can already be a slippery slope. I’m not adding borrowed money to the mix. Besides, I have the cash in my account, it’s just reserved for a gem order I’ve been putting together. “I’ll swing by the shop tonight after nine and grab it.”

“Why after nine?” Maren’s eyebrows pinch. “Isn’t itdangerousbeing out that late?”

She throws up air quotes and laughs because she knows it’s what I think, even if she doesn’t agree with me.

“Very funny.” I open the fridge and rummage through the leftovers until I find a container of pasta. “But I’ll deal with whatever lurks in the shadows as long as I can avoid one shadow in particular.”

“Does this particular shadow start with aJand end with anude.”

I glance over my shoulder just enough to glare at her.

“Girl, you are so transparent. Fuck him already and get it over with.”

Blood rushes to my cheeks, and Maren’s grin stretches her face so wide there’s no way she missed it.

“I can’t.”

“You can.” She winks. “And let me point out, you didn’t say,I don’t want to. Because girl,you want to,and we both need you to. The only way you’re going to get over that man is to get under him first.”

If only it were that simple.

Jude isn’t just a guy to get over. He’s my past, my present. He’s everything. If one look from him is enough to make me question my morals, I have no doubt what crossing that line with him would do.

“You’re considering it.” She points her spoon at me.

“Am not.” I spin around and stick the pasta in the microwave, waiting for it to make my thoughts disappear.

“You are. And Fel…”

I face her once more.

“It’s okay.”

“He’s my stepbrother.”

“Not anymore.”

She’s right, and still, it changes nothing. I let him in once, long enough for him to light my life up in flames.

So why does a sick part of me want him to do it again?

Why does the thought of him touching Brea make me want to replace all thoughts of her with myself? I’m not rational when it comes to that man, and it’s frustrating.

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