Page 12 of The Truth in My Lies (Secrets of Suburbi 1)

He grabbed me around the waist as I passed him, and lifted me up so that my back was flush with his chest.

“Put me down!” I squirmed underneath his grip as my feet hovered off the ground.

He laughed in my ear. The feeling of his warm breath and the sound of his amusement made me want to sigh. Instead, I said, “I’m not a child either!” with much less force. Really, I didn’t want him to stop holding me.

We reached the kitchen far too soon and he released me as soon as my good foot hit the tile.

His hand slid off my waist and he walked into the kitchen, completely ignoring my outburst. He set down the takeout bag on the kitchen table and started opening up drawers and cabinets.

“Excuse me,” I said, putting my hands on my hips. What did he think he was doing?

“You’re excused.” He opened up another cabinet. “Aha.” He pulled out two plates and set them down on the counter.

“Would you stop rummaging through my things?”

He glanced at me over his shoulder. “Would you sit down?”

I glared at him.

He gave me a similar look back before continuing to open up drawers.

I sighed and sat down.

“All set,” he said and placed a plate and utensils down in front of me. “Want something to drink?”

“Are you trying to get me drunk again?”

He raised his left eyebrow. “It’s barely noon, woman. What are you trying to do to me?”

Unspeakable things. I laughed. “The glasses are in the cabinet on the far left. And there’s a Brita pitcher in the fridge.”

“Two glasses of water coming right up. We can save the hard liquor for later.”

Later? “How long are you planning on staying?”

He poured the water without answering me.

“Ben, I have a million things to do.” Such a statement was always an exaggeration. But to me it was especially so. I had absolutely nothing to do.

“What things can you possibly achieve when you can’t walk? Snort cocaine?” He sat down next to me in the only other seat and opened up the bag like what he had just said wasn’t at all odd.

“Excuse me? I’m not going to do drugs with you. I don’t know what kind of illegal things 23 year olds do, but I…”

“I saw the powder in your sink.” He pulled out a wrapped sandwich and placed it on my plate without looking at me.

Powder? I looked over at the sink. Oh, God. “No, that’s not…” my voice trailed off. Technically, I had tossed a bunch of drugs down the garbage disposal yesterday. Some of the grindings must have still been in the sink.

“It would explain why you’re so fidgety.”

“I don’t do illegal drugs. And I’m not fidgety.” I willed my knee to stop bouncing. He made me nervous, that was all.

“So…prescription drugs then?”

“No actually. Not anymore.” I thought about the one prescription that I hid in the pantry. The one I’d never stop taking.

“What did you used to take then?”

“None of your business.”

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