Page 25 of Beautiful Lies
“What do you do?”
“I work at a bar just a few blocks from here. I do the social media, book the entertainment, paperwork…”
“I bet you’re good at what you do. Irreplaceable.”
“I’d like to think so.”
“I’m sure it’s true,” Connor said.
I thought maybe he was talking about something other than my job.Am I irreplaceable in your life, Connor?If that was true, why had you thrown it all away? Why had drugs given you something I couldn’t? Why had you given drugs so much power over your life? They’d ruined you, us, and everything that was good and real.
“Connor, this isn’t going to—”Work.
“Ava. Have you ever gotten the feeling that you’re on the brink of something really good … and you’re excited and hopeful, but you’re nervous because you don’t want to fuck it up?”
“Is that how you feel now?” I asked.
“Yeah, that’s exactly how I feel. Like I’m on a roller coaster and it’s climbing, and I know that soon I’ll be at the top, and then it’ll pick up speed and I’ll be flying. But in the back of my head, I’m thinking … what if this thing jumps the tracks? It’s like that.”
I knew that feeling so well, the way your stomach flips with anticipation, fear, and excitement. The giddy high as you plunge over the edge and plummet at breakneck speed. “I love riding roller coasters.”
Connor smiled. “I know you do. What else do you love doing?”
“I love dancing in my living room until I get all hot and sweaty and collapse on the floor.” He laughed, and I knew he could picture it. “I love belting out an Adele song or singing along with Lana Del Rey. I love her lyrics and her sultry voice. She’s my girl crush. And I love rummaging through all the crap at the flea markets and vintage shops. Because I know, just know, that I’m going to find something unique and weird and wonderful. It’s like a treasure hunt, you know?” He nodded, and his smile grew wider, like hearing everything he already knew about me was unique and weird and wonderful. I left out my newfound joy, the aerial silks class I’d started taking eight months ago. That was my thing, and I didn’t share it with anyone. “What do you love doing?”
“Sketching and drawing. Graffiti. Tattooing. Riding my Harley to the mountains or the beach or anywhere, really. I love reading books that make me see the world differently. Or just make me wonder what the hell was going through that person’s head when they wrote that. I’ve been reading Bukowski. His stories are raw and gritty and dirty. The other day I read one of his poems that reminded me of…”
“Reminded you of what?” I prompted.
He shook his head. “Just a girl I used to know.”
“Was she raw and gritty and dirty?”
“Our relationship was.”
“Not always.” Once the words were out, I wished I could reel them back in.
“True. For a while it was amazing. The best thing I’d ever known.Shewas the best thing I’d ever known.”
My eyes darted around the shop, seeking refuge. I couldn’t do this with him. “I need to go.”
He let out a breath. “Yeah. Okay.”
We stood, and he ushered me out of the coffee shop. He was so close that I smelled the faint scent of cigarette smoke mingled with his own scent—pheromones and masculinity. I hated the way cigarettes smelled. It should have been a huge turn-off. Somehow, it wasn’t. When it came to Connor, I’d always bent the rules.
By the time we exited the coffee shop, I felt like I’d been sucked back into Connor’s world, a dangerous, intoxicating, heady place to live. Sometimes, I felt so tiny next to him, probably because he was a foot taller than me. But other times, he made me feel like I was ten feet tall. Like I was … amazing. He had the ability to make me feel like I was his whole world. Until that world had crashed and burned all around us.
“You need a ride?”
I shook my head. I needed to walk so I could clear my head. Riding on the back of his Harley, my arms wrapped around him, wouldn’t help me do that.
“Can I take you to dinner?”
“No. I—”
“Lunch then. Lunch is safe.”
Nothing is safe with you. How many times could I let him break my heart? At nineteen, he destroyed me. At twenty-four, I was still picking up the pieces. I made the mistake of looking at his face. In the sunlight, his eyes were almost translucent, framed by a tangle of thick, dark lashes. My gaze dipped to his mouth, his full, sensuous lips. I knew what that mouth was capable of, what his lips and his tongue could do to my body. He could make my body sing, make me writhe in pleasure and pain. Nobody gave such good pain like Connor did.
