Page 16 of One Lovely Lie

Chapter 5

Magnus

It’s been three days. Three days since I kissed my best friend, and I can’t stop fucking thinking about it. It’s all my brain wants to focus on. I’m not too sure why.

When Daniel told me he’d never kissed anyone, I went fucking crazy. It’s impossible that no one’s ever wanted to kiss him before. He’s gorgeous. He’s got a nice lithe body, not tiny but far shorter than me. His floppy blond curls are adorably bright, always in his face unless he wears that ratty old headband to keep them at bay. His eyes,fuck, his eyes. They’re captivating. A blue so intense you can get lost in them.

My best friend could be a fucking heartbreaker, so of course, it was a shock that he was a virgin in more ways than one.

He sure as hell didn’t kiss like a virgin. His lips had been so smooth, so supple. He was so sweet with the gentle swipes of his tongue and the little whimpers he let into my mouth. I got so fucking hard that it was difficult to remind myself that it wasn’t just any guy I was kissing, but my best friend.

I don’t want to think about why I was so adamant about kissing him. I really did want to make it special for him because the thought of him having that kiss with anybody else…nope. Not going there. Not going there at all.

I’ve tried to stop thinking about it. I hate to admit that I even snuck that Becca girl into one of the empty classrooms for a quick fuck yesterday and I did not—did not—think about that kiss while I was inside her.

Daniel and I haven’t spoken about it, not that we need to, but it does seem like he’s been avoiding me lately. We typically hang out every night but he’s been sketchy about his schedule. I’m not too sure why he’s been so AWOL, but it needs to end.

I’ve made up my mind and decided that enough is enough. Although I normally hate talking about things like this, feelings and such, this is Daniel. We’ll talk, we’llfigurativelykiss and make up, and everything will go back to normal.

Before I can actually leave my room to confront him, my phone rings. I groan at the name that appears on the screen and I gather all my courage to answer.

“Father.”

“Magnus, I’ve called you three times today. Why aren’t you answering?”

Of course, Michael Black can’t handle it when his son isn’t at his beck and call. I do everything I can to ignore my father, almost everything I can to piss him off, but there comes a point where I actually do have to talk to him.

“I was busy, father,” I reply, not bothering to hide my bored tone. “Some of us actually have lives outside of work.”

“Watch it, you ungrateful little shit,” he barks through the line. I can practically hear the way his fists clench. “Have you been working on your college application yet?”

“Harvard’s portal doesn’t open up until March first.”

“Is that the kind of attitude you’ll have when you run this company? Just wait until the last minute to get shit done? That’s not how I raised you.”

Actually, Dad, you didn’t raise me at all. That was Victoria and a team of nannies.

“I’ll take care of it,” I say, exasperated and it’s only been thirty seconds. “Look, I was on my way to go hang out with Daniel—”

“Daniel. Why can’t you be more like him? You know he actually respects his parents, right?”

“Oh, Father. What would give you the impression that I don’t respect you?” I reply sarcastically.

“Time for fun and games is over, Magnus. This is your final year at Armory Prep. You have to grow the fuck up already. Are you done fooling around?”

Truth is that thefooling aroundhe’s referring to stopped after winter break freshman year. I don’t get into nearly as much trouble as I used to. I’m still caught every now and then, but nothing serious since I promised Daniel I’d lay off anything that would get me expelled.

“Sure. Let’s say that.”

My father sighs like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders, like he can’t handle even one more second of speaking to me, and the feeling is mutual. “Look, son. Harvard is an excellent school. I know that we originally planned on having you and Daniel attend there together, but I want you to also apply to the University of Mannheim.”

“Mannheim?” I ask in confusion. “Isn’t that in Germany?”

“Astute observation if there ever was one. Of course it’s in Germany.”

“Why am I applying to a school in Germany if I’m going to Harvard.”

“Because you’re not going to Harvard.”

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