Page 13 of Just a Little White Lie

I can’t help a soft snicker.

“Come on, you.” I grab her hand and try to pull her off the couch. She’s a lightweight and comes easily, but her knees buckle the second her legs are straight.

I catch her against me, gripping her waist so she doesn’t fall. “Whoa, whoa. I gotcha.”

She leans against my chest, her perfect little body pressing into mine.

I can’t help noticing her girly scent. I don’t know what flower it is, but I like it.

She lets out a soft groan, and I do the only thing I can. Sweeping my arms beneath her legs, I pick her up and nestle her against me. Her head lolls on my shoulder, and I stare down at her face, letting myself drink her in for just a second.

I really do love her Tinker Bell nose.

And those lips.

Forcing my gaze away, I carry her to her room. Her bed’s unmade, making it easy to place her down on the mattress and pull the covers over her. She turns with a sigh and hugs the pillow, squishing it under her head before starting to drift into la-la land.

Leaning down, I press my lips against her cheek before whispering, “Sleep it off, Trouble. Things are always better in the morning.”

I creep out of her room, lightly closing the door behind me before cleaning up the living area to Luke’s high standard and then staring at her open laptop.

TheGazettepage stares right back at me as I relive her blubbering tears and the desperate whine in her voice.

Maybe there is something I can do to help.

Slumping down on the couch, I glance over my shoulder just once before wiggling my fingers and getting to work.

LAUREN

“Ugh,” I groan, squeezing my eyes tight before daring to open them.

Sunlight pierces my skull. It’s trying to shove needles into my eyeballs, so I quickly snap my lids closed again. I don’t know who did it, but someone injected one-hundred-proof sludge into my brain, and it’s making my senses work in slow motion.

Rolling over with a whimpering groan, I pull the covers back over my head.

And then a wrecking ball starts pounding on my door.

“Lauren?” someone shouts like a battle cry. “Lauren, are you up yet?”

“Piss off,” I whisper.

“Lau-ren!”

Okay, it’s safe to say that Luke is the world’s worst alarm clock.

I could choke him right now, squeeze that little voice box of his until all he can do is rasp at people.

“Lauren, it’s time to get up.”

I have no idea what day it is, but surely I don’t need to.

My sludgy brain scrambles to work it out. I’m feeling weekend vibes, which means I can park it in this bed all damn day if I want to.

“Okay, Lauren, I’m coming in. You need to get your butt out of bed and get to work.”

I fling my covers back and shout at the door. “Get lost!”

The door cracks open. “I know you think I’m being mean, but I’m doing this for your own good. You need to get onto your résumé and start applying for jobs.”

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