Page 116 of A Smile Full of Lies
“Got it,” I nodded, adrenaline buzzing in my veins. I was doing this for Knox, making a move before he got the chance to figure out my secret and become a monster in his own right.
Twenty-five minutes after that, wired and so wound up I could barely function, I headed to Thayer’s apartment, slipping in through the service entrance Alyssa had propped open when we were here earlier in the day so I wouldn’t have to face the doorman. My body hummed with nerves and adrenaline as I climbed to the third floor and knocked on Thayer’s door, praying I could get what I needed without setting him off.
Thayer openedthe door with that same smug, all-American shit-eating grin that used to melt me. Now it just made my stomach churn.
His apartment hadn’t changed much since the last time I’d been here years ago — still sleek, expensive, and utterly soulless. Everything was gray, white, or chrome. Not a single thing out of place, except the man himself.
“Ros,” he said, dragging my name out like a joke he was letting me in on. “Didn’t expect you to be the one knocking on my door after all this time. Even after our little chat earlier today.”
I smiled like it didn’t cost me every shred of self-control I possessed.
“Well, I figured Halloween was just a couple days ago… thought I’d pay a visit to an old ghost.”
He laughed, motioning me in with a dramatic sweep.
“You still got that mouth on you, huh?”
I stepped inside, letting the door close behind me. The apartment smelled like his cologne — dark spice and smoke — and something faintly metallic underneath.
“Care for a drink?” he asked, heading toward the kitchen.
“No, thanks.” I hovered by the marble island, heart hammering under my ribs. “I just wanted to talk.”
“Talk,” he repeated, opening the fridge and grabbing a beer, ignoring the row of bottles of spirits set out on the side counter. Right beside a row of little bottles that looked like prescription meds – all of which were full. Tension wrapped itself around my lungs, and for a minute I couldn’t breathe. “You and I neverreally talked, sweetheart. Not unless it was about your feelings. Mostly, we just fucked like rabbits.”
I forced a light laugh, still looking at those bottles – the ones that said he was likely completely crazy, and very unmedicated.
“Yeah, well. I’ve been thinking about the past a lot lately. Wondering if maybe I didn’t know the whole story back then.”
He cracked the cap off the beer.
“About us?”
“About everything.” I tilted my head. “Even the Stonewood Slaughter.”
He paused mid-sip, his dark brown eyes narrowing.
“Interesting,” he murmured.
Got him.
“You ever wonder,” I said, settling onto the edge of his stupidly expensive leather barstool, “how different things could’ve been if you hadn’t blown it?”
Thayer’s brow lifted. He turned, leaning against the counter, beer bottle dangling from his fingers.
“Blown it?” he echoed. “Sweetheart, I had everything.”
“Exactly.” I gave him a slow smile. “Star quarterback. Legacy student. Girls lining up to touch your jersey after every game.” I tilted my head. “I was just the girl who got to call you mine.”
His smile curled sharp and smug.
“You still remember it like that?”
I shrugged.
“I remember a lot of things.”
He sipped his beer, gaze dark with curiosity.
