“Does he usually have your phone?” he demands, his cogs clearly turning.
“No,” I say, touching my sister’s name and placing the phone to my ear, shooting Rafe a faint smile. “I’ve been getting your texts, don’t worry.”
Now Sin appears to feel a little better. I stifle the urge to wink at him since Rafe is looking right at me, but come on, Sin; give me a little credit.
“Where the hell are you?”
I shrink a little at the harsh demand on the other line from my loving sister. “Hey! I’m so sorry I’ve missed a few of your calls.”
“A few?” Carly demands. “A few? I thought you were dead!”
“How could I be dead? I’ve been texting you.”
“You texted me a dolphin emoji. What the hell is that?”
I bite back my amusement, remembering when Sin sent her that text. “Hey, dolphins are adorable.”
Now Sin cracks a smile, too.
Now I can’t resist winking at him.
“Anyway,” I say into the phone. “I only have a minute to talk, but I just wanted to touch base with you so you didn’t worry. Let you know I’m totally fine, safe and sound, not murdered and dumped into a ditch or any large body of water.”
“I have been worrying my head off,” Carly tells me. “Where are you?”
“I told you, I’m in Chicago for a few days.”
“Yes, you did tell me that, but when you stopped answering your phone, I called your roommate, and guess what?”
Grimacing, I go through my list of friends, wondering which ones she has phone numbers for. “I’m not staying there. I’m… staying in… the…” I flounder, not accustomed to lying to my sister. I had a lie all picked out and rehearsed, but I didn’t prepare for bumps in the story. “With Winn—efer.”
Carly’s tone is dead. “Winnefer?”
I grimace harder. “Yes, Winnefer. She’s a… she’s Scottish.”
“What?”
“Never mind, the point is, I am fine and in Chicago, and I just wanted to let you know. I am going to be staying for a few more days than I originally planned though, so I didn’t want you to freak out if I’m not home when I said I would be.”
“Laurel, what is going on?” she asks, seriously.
Winnefer was a terrible name. Why couldn’t I commit to something more normal than that before it tumbled out of my mouth? Sighing, I tell her, “Okay, promise you won’t freak out.”
The amusement on Sin’s features as he watched me attempt lying melts and he stares at me like he doesn’t trust me again. This man is just a basket full of trust issues, I swear.
“I won’t freak out,” Carly assures me, her tone purposely calm. “Whatever is going on, you can talk to me.”
A pang of guilt hits me, because I do have something serious going on, I’m not talking to her about it, and I definitely should be. This is not the time for that, though, so I shove it down and get back to what I was just about to tell her. It’s not even a lie, exactly—just a compromised truth.
“I kind of met a guy,” I tell her.
“A guy. In Chicago?”
“Mm hmm, and that’s why I want to spend a few more days here. We’re having a nice time and I’m not going to be ready to leave in two days. We’re actually at dinner right now, so I only have a minute to talk. There was a line at the bathroom but it’s almost my turn. I figured, hey, two birds, one stone. Anyway, yeah, so… that’s what’s going on. Just enjoying my little love nest for a few more days before I come home.”
The line is quiet for a moment and my stomach turns over. Lying to Carly has always felt like what I assume lying to your mom feels like—an agonizing, gnawing ache right in my gut. When she speaks, relief floods me because she sounds convinced. “Well, I need details. What’s this guy’s name? How did you meet? This one isn’t a Morelli, right?” she half-jokes.
Brightening, I say, “No, this one is not a Morelli.”