The Lie (Kings of Linwood Academy 2)

en he focuses his gaze on me again. “He’ll believe that. And he’ll believe that’s why you don’t want to stay with us anymore. I won’t let him know it’s about him.”

A glint of surprise flashes in River’s eyes as he watches Lincoln speak. The dark-haired boy must not’ve mentioned why he was bringing me over.

I’m struck yet again by the level of unconditional trust these guys have with each other. It’s kind of fucking amazing, the way any of them would step out on a limb for any of the others, not even glancing down to see how far the fall would be—just believing that his friends will catch him.

It’s a powerful thing, that kind of trust.

“You’re sure you can… keep it together around him?” I ask Linc, trying to phrase my question in a way that doesn’t sound insulting. But I’ve seen him when he’s pissed. Hell, I’ve been the person he’s been pissed at, and he’s not necessarily the best at hiding his emotions when he’s worked up.

“Yeah.” As if giving me a demonstration, his face smooths out, the harsh edge of anger in his features evaporating. “And if he thinks I’m being weird, I’ll just blame it on our ‘breakup’.”

This time, it’s me that grimaces when he says the word. Linc hasn’t even officially asked me out, and our relationship definitely isn’t following a conventional path—in fact, it seems to be expanding to include three other people—but whatever we have is still real.

Real enough that it hurts to think of losing it, even if that’s just a lie for his dad’s benefit.

Maybe he notices the shift in my expression, because Lincoln strides forward, capturing my face in his hands. They’re large and warm, and I melt a little at the contact. When he tilts my head up and drops his head to claim a kiss, I sag against him, letting my muscles and bones sink into his touch.

“It’s better this way, Low,” he mutters against my hair as he wraps his arms around me, engulfing me in a tight embrace. “I’m not letting you get hurt.”

Part of me doubts Mr. Black would do anything to me while I was living under his roof, if for no other reason than that it would cast suspicion on him immediately. But people can do horrible things when they feel trapped, and I’ve been having a harder time keeping up my poker face around the older man lately. This probably is for the best.

So I nod against Linc’s chest, taking in a deep breath and letting his coriander scent fill my nostrils. “See you at school tomorrow.”

“Yeah. See you.”

He kisses my hair one more time and then heads for the door, jerking his head almost imperceptibly to River as he goes. The other boy moves to walk him out, leaving me alone in the bedroom. He closes the door behind them, and I can hear their quiet voices fading as they head up the stairs.

I set my backpack down by my suitcase and turn to take a look at the room. It’s big and luxurious—they didn’t cut corners just because it’s in the basement—but it also has touches that are all River. There are a few cool looking art prints on the walls, and a large bed tucked into one corner. On the other side of the room, there’s a couch, an easy chair, and a coffee table arranged around a wide flat-screen TV mounted on the wall.

There are two other doors in the room, one that’s halfway open and seems to lead to an en suite bathroom, and one that I’m guessing leads to a closet.

Not quite sure what to do and feeling a little like an intruder, I head toward the couch and sink down onto it. It’s nice, the seat cushions soft but not too squishy.

I pull out my phone and send a quick text to Hunter, wondering if I should mention what happened between me and the kings of Linwood last night. It’s hard to explain though, and it’s definitely not the kind of thing you just tell someone in a text. If we were still living in the same town, this would be a late night, pint of ice cream conversation, where I’d spill all the dirty details and she’d grill me for even more.

It’s not the same by text, or even by phone.

She hasn’t replied yet by the time River comes back. He opens the door and pokes his head in cautiously, like he’s trying to make sure I’m decent before he steps inside. Like this isn’t his space I’m invading.

“Thanks,” I say once his gaze settles on me. “For letting me stay here. It probably won’t be for too long.”

“It can be for as long as you like,” he says without hesitating. Then he closes the door behind him and steps closer, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets. “You told him.”

I nod. “Yeah. I hope he’s not mad at you for not saying anything sooner.”

He tips his head back and forth in a noncommittal gesture, and I have a feeling Lincoln definitely gave him some shit for that. But I don’t think it opened up a real rift between them. I already told Linc my reasons for not mentioning my suspicions about his dad before, and he might not like it, but he knows we did this for him.

“Do you really think he’ll be able to keep his shit together?” I whisper, concern filling my voice.

River nods. “Yeah. You played poker with him. You know. He wears his heart on his sleeve, but he can keep shit close to the vest when he needs to. You gotta trust him, Low.”

“I do,” I say immediately.

“And you trust me?”

His gray-blue eyes are serious, and I have a feeling his question isn’t just about the stuff with Linc’s dad, or my mom, or Iris’s death.

It’s both bigger and smaller than that, and it has to with just the two of us.