Page 89 of Just a Little White Lie

“Manners.” I grin. “You’re getting close to calm again. I can feel it.”

“I’m not there yet,” he mutters. “And I should warn you that even starting this conversation is making me antsy again.”

“Why?” I finish the chicken and spin back to face him. “What have I done that is so wrong?”

He snatches the fry pan off me with a huff and starts cooking up the veggies. “You’re making out with my best friend. It’s gross.”

I snicker. “And you’re acting like a twelve-year-old.”

Jumping out of the kitchen, I stand on the other side of the counter to avoid oil sprays—and okay, I’m getting out of Luke’s reach.

“I’m just annoyed that you guys didn’t sit down and talk to me about it. We’re all mature adults here, but you’ve been secretly dating for… how long?”

“A few weeks.” I shrug, going for casual.

“A few weeks!” He gives me a pointed look, choking on the words like they taste bad.

I rest my hands against the counter and let out a sigh. “We wouldn’t have had to sneak around if you weren’t so paranoid about us getting together. I don’t even understand it. Jack’s awesome. Why wouldn’t you want your sister with someone awesome?”

He winces and gives me a sideways glance. “I just don’t want him distracting you. Boyfriends have always brought out the worst in you.”

“Excuse me?” My voice pitches with indignation. I cross my arms and pull my face into a matching expression.

He gives me a withering frown. “Tony Malcolm?”

“I was sixteen and he was… a very hot bad boy.” I tip my head.

“He got you arrested for speeding and underage drinking!”

I cringe, but Luke doesn’t quit.

“Robbie whatever his name was—the idiot who dared you to table dance at that club. You nearly broke your ankle, and he stood there laughing about it while I had to carry you three blocks to the emergency room. Or what about Francois, Frenchman, total swindler who ended up giving you the week of your life in Paris and then stealing all your money.”

I cross my arms with a huff, humiliation burning through me. The whole airing my laundry thing is not fun. And the worst part is… I can’t deny any of it.

“I could go on, Lauren.”

“Yet you don’t have to,” I grit out.

Thank God he doesn’t know about all my other little European flings.

I shake my head. “Jack’s different.” The confession kind of surprises me, but I keep going, raising my eyebrows as I enlighten both myself and my brother at the same time. “I’ve dated a bunch of guys, and this is… something else. I’ve never been out with someone I’ve known for years before. Someone I truly trust, who I’d be willing to risk my heart on.”

Luke stops stirring to study me. The veggies continue to sizzle and pop, oil no doubt splattering his hand, but he doesn’t notice.

His forehead creases. “I thought you hated Jack.”

“Only because he teased me all the time.” I shrug, feeling a blush creep into my cheeks. “I’ve always been attracted to him. I had the biggest crush on him in high school, and whenever he was nice to me, I loved it. I didn’t realize he was putting on a show to try and protect himself from me, and when we both let our guards down, it was like… finally! You know? It just feels so incredibly right, I can’t even explain it.”

His shoulders slump with a sigh. “You’re not worried that if things don’t work out, it’ll be majorly awkward?”

I hadn’t actually thought that far ahead, so I stick out my bottom lip and force my head to shake back and forth. “Nope. I guess it’ll just go back to the way things were before.” The thought makes me frown. I definitely do not want that, which is mutually thrilling and terrifying.

“I mean, I guess I don’t really have any say,” Luke mutters, turning back to his stir-fry. “You’re both adults. I just want you to stay on track. You’ve still got a really long way to go in paying back Mum and Dad.”

Groan! Not this again. Is he seriously going to start another Lukey Lecture?

“I don’t want you to slip up. I don’t—”

---