Page 21 of Reckless Liar

“Yeah, of course you are. I mean it. I love you guys.”

“Okay,” he replied softly. “Good.”

“Thank you for taking me out tonight. Aside from the whole Peter debacle, I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun.”

He put his hand on the door handle and paused. “I’m glad to hear that. That’s all I want, is for you to have fun.”

“I did.”

He turned the key in the lock, swinging the door open. I ducked in under his arm, hanging up my coat and purse on the rack. Behind me, Xander crossed the room toward his bedroom door.

“Hey Ana?” he called from the doorway.

I turned to face him. His eyebrows furrowed. He seemed to contemplate what he wanted to say.

I stepped closer to him. He grabbed the neck of his shirt, unbuttoned the top button, and pulled his tie loose.

He opened his mouth, a haunted look passing over his face. “You looked really nice tonight. I like it when you wear that color.”

I smiled at him. “Thank you. You looked handsome yourself.”

We stood there smiling at each other, the light from the moon streaming in through our living room window. He stepped closer to me until he was right in front of me. Bending down, he pressed a kiss to my cheek. I closed my eyes, and a warm sensation flooded over me. He pulled away and looked in my eyes.

“I’m glad I got to see you smiling tonight,” he whispered.

He left me standing there, my hand clasped to my cheek. The wine must have gone to my head. I watched his door, trying to place the feeling that washed over me. Why would I feel so guilty about a kiss on the cheek? And why, when his kiss lingered on my skin, did I almost turn my face to meet his lips?

Chapter nine

“You're the only girl for me.” -Max, age seventeen.

Armedwithagrowlerof Sticky Cow’s Freedom Bay Ale and her level, Scarlett walked around the living room, marking spots on the wall with a pencil and sketching out the general plan for what pieces would go where. I stood back with my beer, watching her. I knew better than to interrupt her while she was decorating.

At one point, I brought out a framed painting I’d stored for years in the back of my closet. In the painting, a woman stood at the bottom of a waterfall, looking up at the gray and black water cascading down to her. The only actual color in the painting were bright wings that sprouted across the woman’s bare back.

I closed my eyes, laying my head against the back of the couch. “You know, the wall, clothes, the way you see yourself and know exactly where things go...” I trailed off, flinging a hand over the top of my head. “... knowing where you go. I wish I could do that.”

She turned to look at me. “We’re not talking about picture frames, are we?”

“No.” My eyes still closed, I brought the pint glass up to my mouth, draining the beer. “I know that it’s been long enough since Max...”

“Died,” Scarlett supplied.

“I’m constantly worried about what he’d think of every choice I make. I’m exhausted from it.” Keeping my eyes closed, as I talked, I didn’t want to see the pity in her eyes.

Scarlett took the empty glass out of my hand. “Have you seen someone? Maybe you should talk to a counselor or something.”

I waved the comment away. “I went to a few sessions with my mother’s therapist. It was a colossal waste of time. I can’t sit there and talk to some stranger. It didn’t make me feel better.”

Scarlett sat up straight and turned to look at me. “It’s not about feeling better, Ana. It’s supposed to hurt. Part of grieving is learning healthy limits to your grief. Setting healthy limits, period. Which, you know, has never been a strong suit of yours. Max walked all over you, and you know it.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out. Scarlett shook her head. “Don’t lie to yourself, Ana. He hurt you all the time. Don’t pretend he was some saint.”

“I don’t want to pretend that, Scar! That’s the opposite of what I want. But you have no idea how this feels.”

She nodded at me, agreeing. “You’re right. I don’t. What I know is my best friend is suffering and I want her to feel better.” She wrapped an arm around me and pulled me closer.

“I know you do.” Hugging her back, I reveled in the warmth of her love.

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