Fated Lies (Lies 3)

She stares at me with a blank expression. “I think you’ve pieced together most of it.”

“You took a deal with Rowan?”

She nods.

“Who did you choose to go free?”

She lets go of my hand. “I chose you.”

I frown. “And that would mean that he’d kill you?”

She nods.

“Why? Why would you save me when I’ve been nothing but horrible to you? I killed your fiancé and threatened to kill you! Your decision was easy; why would you save me?”

She bites her lip as she considers her next words. I think she’s going to say something about not being able to take a father away from her kids. Or a joke answer about wanting to be the one to kill me myself. Or maybe she thought if I was free, I could come back and save her before Rowan killed her, which would have been risky.

“You would have never killed me,” she says.

I frown, although, maybe she’s right. Maybe I wouldn’t have. I don’t know.

“I couldn’t choose my life over yours. And I know you made the same decision. You chose to keep me alive instead of saving yourself.”

“Why?” I ask again, begging her to say the words I’ve wanted to hear her say since I was fifteen and first noticed her turning into a woman, no longer just my neighbor, closest friend, and later enemy. I’ve wanted her to say that we could be something more for so long.

She sighs as if she can’t quite say the words she wants to say. Instead, she bemoans, “Why couldn’t you have saved me before?”

That is what ultimately broke us—me not saving her. She can’t forgive me for it, and I can’t forgive myself.

Then, she leans forward, thrusting herself into my arms as she presses her lips against mine, expressing what she can’t say with her kisses.

24

Liesel

I don’t know why I kiss Langston. To keep myself from saying the words on the edge of my tongue. To keep from having to explain myself to him. Or just because I want something life-affirming after what we went through.

Whatever the reason, the kiss is exactly what we both need.

It fills my soul with warmth, kindness, and passion. His lips heat my body better than the fire ever could.

Langston tries to use his right arm to pull me closer, but he winces, forgetting how injured it is. He switches to his far less injured left hand to grab my hips. He’s trying to move me closer to him, so I help him out by scooting my hips until I’m as close to I can be to him without climbing on top of him.

He pulls back. “Climb on my lap, huntress.”

I can’t deny either of us right now.

“Don’t let me hurt you,” I say as I straddle his lap.

He pushes my hips down, until I’m resting on top of him. “You could never hurt me.”

Then he leans back on the couch, and my body falls on top of his until my lips are once again pressed against his. My tongue pushes in his mouth this time, unable to resist tasting all of him.

Our moans echo through the room, tuning out the crackle of the fire.

Langston’s hands rest at my hips and mine on his chest as we both enjoy each other’s bodies. Each kiss pushes me closer to something I’ve wanted but denied myself for too long.

Closer.