Lies We Tell (Thistle Cove 3)

“Wait, Coach Candler is going?” Finn asks. Ozzy’s eyes dart to mine—a line of worry on his forehead.

“Yep.”

“What the hell?" Ozzy says. “That sounds…”

“Crazy,” I interject. “He was under investigation for inappropriate student relationships less than a month ago.”

“Shows how little credibility they put in those accusations,” she says.

“Well, thanks for volunteering. It’s good to know that someone we can trust will be there.” I say, wrapping my arm around her shoulder and squeezing.

“You’re welcome.” She glances toward the bus. “I should load this up.”

“I’ve got it,” Finn says. Ozzy holds his hand out and takes my bag.

“Thanks. I guess I’ll go see what my duties involve.”

She walks off and I force myself to swallow back my anger. “There’s no reason Coach Chandler should be on this trip. What’s next? Brice Waller is going, too?”

“Well, the trip did get taken away from them all those years ago. I’m sure they feel entitled to a do-over.”

We all turn and see Ezra standing nearby. His hands are shoved in his leather jacket and his dark hair dips in front of his eyes. My heart aches having him so nearby.

“And before you find out from someone else, my father is going on the trip, too.”

Ozzy tugs off his cap and runs his hands through his hair. “This sucks.”

“Yeah,” Ezra says. “He says he’s doing it to keep an eye on everything, but I don’t know. I have a bad feeling about this.” He looks across the parking lot and the three of them stand by Mr. Baxter’s Mercedes.

A high school trip with a known predator, a conniving politician, and a lying, manipulative lawyer?

There’s no way this is going to end well.

Snow greets us as we approach Jasper Lodge. Several feet thick and perfect for winter sports. I’m able to get a seat to myself—the boys a few rows ahead. With Waller, Chandler, and Baxter on the trip (all sitting toward the front), it seems better to keep our distance. It’s fine by me. The boys talk the entire bus ride about snowboarding and I use the opportunity to read my long-neglected book.

Ezra drops in the seat next to me and peers over my shoulder.

“Is that your sexy book?” he asks quietly. I slap him on the arm with it.

“No. And don’t smut shame me.”

“I would never.” He shifts closer and I’m distracted by a waft of detergent and mint. “I like that you’re into smutty stuff.”

My heart skips a beat. “You sure you’re not mocking me?”

“Nope. I’m thinking one day you pick one of those scenes that turns you on so much and we replicate it.”

And like that he’s back, the Ezra that’s been missing for weeks as he worked through everything with his father. I study him—some of the dark rings that he’d had under his eyes are gone. He looks a million times better than he has for the last few weeks. “Feeling better?”

He takes my hand and spins the ring. “Yeah. Thanks for being patient during my emotional crisis.”

“You’ve been patient with me before.” I think about the first time he got me off, painstakingly slow. His eyes darken and his cheeks flush, giving me the idea that he’s thinking about it too—or maybe one of the other times we were able to be together. My stomach twists anxiously. God, he’s gorgeous.

“I assure you,” he says, standing, so tall his head grazes the bus ceiling, “that the next time we’re together, alone, I won’t be so patient.”

He gives me a sexy, lopsided smirk and walks down the bus to sit with the guys. I’m left hot and bothered, pulse thumping…anticipating. Any and all thoughts of taking advantage of our room at the lodge are dashed when we’re given roommate assignments.

“This isn’t going to work.” I hold up my room key that has the assignments written on it in Sharpie. Alice, with her fluffy non-Harry Potter themed scarf wrapped around her neck, holds the matching key.