The Lies That Define Us Part 12

She shook her head and reached up to pull her hair loose from the bun it was in.

"I didn't know you could apologize." She laughed some more.

I settled my face into a glare. "Don't expect it to happen again."

"Trust me, I'm not." She chortled, still completely amused.

"Hey, I can apologize, it's just rare," I defended.

"And apparently never for the things you should apologize for," she countered, looking at me seriously.

"Right." I drew out the word. "I'll be back with that hot chocolate," I muttered, and hauled a.s.s away from her.

It only took a few minutes to make the hot chocolate, and when it was done I added four mini marshmallows to the top. And sprinkles. Girls love sprinkles, right? It just looked like unicorn s.h.i.t to me, but hopefully she'd appreciate it.

And why in the ever-loving-f.u.c.k am I thinking so seriously about sprinkles and whether or not Ari will like them? I was tempted to pick the f.u.c.kers out, but the little devils were too small for that.

I was giving the d.a.m.n sprinkles way too much thought and stalling for time.

I grabbed the mug up and headed back into the family room. Ari had made herself comfortable on the couch, snuggling into the cushions with a blanket draped around her shoulders.

"Here." I stretched my arm out with the mug, handing it to her roughly. A bit of the liquid sloshed out onto my hand, but I didn't give a f.u.c.k.

She took the mug with a quiet thank you.

I took a seat as she lifted the mug slowly to her lips, testing the temperature. When she decided it was safe to drink she took a large gulp and let out a small moan.

"I haven't had hot chocolate in years. This is delicious."

I gave her a small smile. "Years, huh?" I stretched my legs out on the ottoman. "Why's that?"

She paled and set the mug down on the table behind the couch. "Circ.u.mstances," she finally responded.

"Do these circ.u.mstances have anything to do with why you wake up screaming every night?"

She paled even further to a ghostly white and lowered her head, picking at a loose thread on the blanket. "I'd wondered if you heard me."

"Every night." I took a sip of my own hot chocolate. "I figured you'd tell me in your own time, but..." I shrugged. "I've been an a.s.shole, so why would you tell me anything?" I laughed self-deprecatingly. "I'm sorry for that, truly, but I don't know any way else to be. Not anymore."

"What was her name?" she asked softly, her eyes almost caring.

"Whose name?" My brows furrowed in puzzlement.

"The girl who broke your heart. What's her name?" she said each word slowly and carefully, like she was placing a highly-combustible bomb in my lap. I guess, in a way, she sort of was.

"How'd you know?" I forced the words past my lips. I wanted to be angry with her for even asking, but something about the quiet of the night and the small intimate bubble that seemed to surround us kept me from exploding.

"I didn't." She shrugged her slender shoulders and took a sip of hot chocolate. "I guessed based on your behavior. Sometimes you look at me with such distrust, and hey, I get it, you could distrust me simply for the fact that I'm a stranger, but it's more than that," she defended. "I know it is." She squared her shoulders with a resolve and lifted one brow like she was daring me to argue with her.

"You're right," I confessed, and d.a.m.n it felt good to give voice to the words.

"What was her name?" she asked again, trying to coax the truth out of me.

I narrowed my eyes on her. "Why does that matter so much?"

"It doesn't." She set her mug aside and wrapped the blanket back around her shoulders since it had fallen down. "I thought maybe you'd feel better to talk about it."

"I haven't talked about it since it happened, why would I start now?" I countered, resisting the sudden urge to reach out and glide my fingers over her soft cheek and down to her chin where I could bring her lips to mine.

"Because the truth heals everything." Something glimmered in her eyes. Something that looked a lot like fear.

"What's your truth, Ari?" I adjusted my seat on the couch so that I could look at her more fully. "Why do you wake up screaming every night?"

"I'll tell if you tell," she whispered, ducking her head so I couldn't see her eyes.

"You lie." I reached out and grasped her hand against my better judgment, forcing her to look at me.

"You're right." Her tongue flicked out to moisten her lips, and her eyes flicked to my own mouth. "But only because I know you're like me. You'll never tell the secrets you keep." Her voice was soft, almost husky sounding, and the air seemed to sizzle between us. That was the longest we'd ever spoken, and without fighting. I blamed it on the seeming safety of the early hour. Like no one and nothing could reach us. It felt as if we existed in our own realm. One all our own.

"We're made of the same stuff, you and me."

"And what's that?" Her voice was soft, and she leaned unconsciously closer to me.

"Secrets and lies, woven together by fear and hate."

"Is that all?" she asked breathlessly, her knee b.u.mping mine as she adjusted her position on the couch.

"There's hope there too, somehow still burning even when it should've long since been extinguished." I stretched my arm over the back of the couch, and the gesture seemed to draw her even closer to me. So close that I could count a few tiny freckles sprinkled across her nose.

"Liam," she breathed my name, and something in me snapped.

That something being my self-control.

I grabbed her face with both of my hands. Her mouth parted with a gasp, and I swore I saw a brief flash of fear in her eyes like she was unsure of what I was about to do.

I crashed my lips against hers.

There was nothing slow, soft, or sweet about that kiss.

Instead, it was hard, bruising, and entirely rough.

I didn't know any other way to be.

My hands slid from her cheeks and down, down, down her body to settle on her waist. I pushed her back onto the cushions until she was lying flat and my body was pressed on top of hers.

Our lips moved together in sync.

Push and pull.

The ocean and the moon.

I felt the drumming of her heart, the beat of it completely out of control.

I nipped at her bottom lip, and her mouth parted.

My tongue slid inside, and she let out the most perfect moan I'd ever heard. My arousal grew as I ground my hips into hers.

I hadn't meant to kiss her.

Ever.

And now that I had I didn't know if I could stop.

Or if I even wanted to.

I've gone and lost my mind.

Her fingers touched my jaw reverently, almost like she was unsure of what to do, and it struck me as odd.

As quickly as I had the thought, it fled, replaced by a deep-seated l.u.s.t-one I'd been fighting since the moment I saw her.

Her hands slid to my hair and down to my neck as her body arched against mine, pushing her chest against mine. Even without feeling her I could tell she was not wearing a bra.

I deepened the kiss, knowing that I'd have to end it soon, but wanting to push it as far as I could before I did.

I unintentionally moved my hands lower to her hips and had no intentions of going anywhere else with them, but Ari didn't know that, and it was like a switched was flipped in her.

She shoved at my chest, breaking our kiss immediately, and before I could even inhale a breath, her hand smacked sharply against my cheek.

I pressed a hand to my stinging jaw out of instinct, but I didn't miss the absolute and overwhelming fear in her eyes.

I'm not talking about fear of spiders or some s.h.i.t like that. It was much, much worse than that. She looked like she was drowning or suffocating.

She grasped at her chest, pulling in sharp bursts of air.

"I-I-I don't know what happened. I'm sorry." The words tumbled out as she looked anywhere but at me. She stood up from the couch quickly, swaying briefly, before scurrying from the room like her a.s.s was on fire.

I sat stunned, my hand still pressed to my cheek as I watched her run up the steps.

Normally I was the one bailing.

This is new.

And I didn't like it.

Not at all.

I stood at the back door and watched the sun rise above the horizon. I held a coffee cup in my hand, but the black liquid was cold and tasted too f.u.c.king bitter to drink. I could only make coffee right one time out of ten.

I'd gone back to bed after my kiss with Ari, but sleep had eluded me worse than it had before. I kept replaying the kiss over in mind and her reaction afterwards. I was beyond curious as to what had snapped inside her. It hadn't been the normal, "I don't want you to kiss me" reaction. There was too much fear in her eyes. Not anger.

When the sun had fully risen, I turned away from the view.

Seeing the sunrise was the only good thing about getting little to no sleep. There was something about seeing the sun ascend into the sky that grounded me. It was like it reminded me to look up and cherish another day because I was f.u.c.king alive even if I felt dead inside.

I poured my disgusting excuse for coffee down the drain and wiped the sink clean.

I hated a dirty sink.

I hated anything dirty.

I cleaned my mug too and stuck it in the dishwasher before emptying out the coffee maker and cleaning that too.

I was about to make a fresh pot of coffee when Ari padded into the room. I glanced up at her but didn't say a word at her presence. She looked like s.h.i.t. Her hair was in disarray, little wisps of hair fluttered around her forehead. Her eyes were bloodshot with dark circles beneath them. I doubted she'd gotten any more sleep either. We were quite the pair.

She cleared her throat and stepped forward slowly like she was tiptoeing across ground that might fall from beneath her feet at any second.

"Let me do that." She took the empty coffee pot from my hand. "Your coffee sucks."

I shrugged. "It does."

I took a seat while she put water in the coffee maker and added the filter and grounds. When she was done, she had no choice but to turn and look at me.

She hadn't been staying with me long, but it had been enough time for us to grow comfortable with one another's presence. We had to be, living together and what not, but in that moment the awkwardness from the first few days had returned in full force.

I've never been good at fixing things like this.

My cousin, Willow, used to joke that I could make a problem out of anything and then make it even bigger with my inability to speak up and clear the air.

That was years ago.

I was older now, and while I'd proven I wasn't much wiser, I figured there was no time like the present to try.

"I think we should play a game."

Hesitant blue eyes reluctantly met mine. "What kind of game?" She toyed with the string on her cotton shorts.

"Don't worry, it's an easy one." I tried to smile to a.s.suage her worries, but it probably looked more like a grimace. I wasn't sure my face muscles knew what a genuine smile was. Was there such a thing as male-resting-b.i.t.c.h face? If so, I had the most severe case.

"Okay," she said the word slowly, leaning her b.u.t.t against the counter behind her.

I knew she was trying to stand as far away from me as she could, and realistically I knew that was for the best. I might've kissed her, but it didn't change anything. It didn't change who I was or I how I acted. It would be better for both of us to keep our distances, because at the end of the day, I'd always be an a.s.shole. Someone might argue that I'd gone from a pretty nice f.u.c.king guy to this, so why couldn't I change back to the old me, but life didn't work that way. When events and circ.u.mstances change you...well, they f.u.c.king change you. There are scars left on you. Not physical ones, but ones that pierce your soul, and those are the kind that never fade or go away. They're forever.

"Explain," she added, when I took too long to speak.

I groaned and shoved rough fingers through my hair. It was getting too long and the dark strands hung down into my eyes, shielding my gaze from her, and when I spoke I wanted her to see the honesty in my eyes.