The Lies We Tell (The Four 1)

“Christine.”

“Caiden.” Her tone was as hostile as mine. Fuck. I hated having to play nice with her. I’d managed to ignore her for the most part, these last few years, but ever since Winter had come into the picture I’d been forced to interact with her.

“Cade, show me where the drinks are.” Winter’s grip tightened on my arm, and she tugged insistently.

“The staff will bri—” I stopped speaking as she signalled at me with her eyes. “Fine. Come on, then—Dad keeps the best ones in his office. Fucking hurry up, will you.”

We walked down the hallway, entered my dad’s office, and she closed the door behind her, then stood with her arms folded, staring at me, her eyes narrowed. “Look. I know you don’t want to be here. I know that my mother is fucking awful, and I know you have a problem with me. But can you please get it together? You’re going to ruin this whole evening, otherwise.”

“Fuck.” I slammed my fist into the nearest object. My dad’s solid oak desk. “Fuck!” I shouted again, grabbing my throbbing wrist in my other hand.

“You idiot. What did you do that for?” I glanced at her, and it looked like she was struggling not to smile.

“Are you laughing at me?” My voice turned low, deadly.

A laugh burst out of her, and she clapped a hand over her mouth, shaking her head. She visibly composed herself and moved closer to me, amusement still dancing in her eyes.

“Let me see.” She lifted my hand and examined the knuckles, lightly running her finger over them, before dropping a light kiss on my clenched fist. I bit down on my lip to stop a groan escaping.

“I think you’ll live,” she announced, letting go of my hand. “Come on, while we’re in here, let’s see if we can find anything.”

“No.” I shook my head, moving closer and tilting my head down to whisper in her ear. “We don’t know what he has in here. There could be cameras, or bugs, or anything.”

She turned to speak into my ear, pulling my head closer. “I didn’t think of that. Sorry. Is…” Her voice trailed off as she took a step closer, our bodies flush with one another.

My control snapped.

I stopped fighting myself.

I gripped her chin and twisted her head so our faces were lined up and slanted my lips over hers.

Fire blazed.

She opened up for me, hungry, demanding, tugging my head closer, pulling at my hair. I slid my hand down from her chin to her throat, feeling her pulse kicking wildly under my hand, and she moaned into my mouth. Reaching my other arm around her, I gripped onto her ass and pulled her even closer, grinding my dick into her.

I barely registered that she was shoving me away, until she was collapsed against the desk, breathing hard, her lips swollen and lust still thick in the air between us. “No. No. We can’t do this. Not here, not now.” Her voice came out hoarse and shaky.

Fuck.

“That—”

“—shouldn’t have happened? Or were you going to say it was a mistake, again? That you don’t want me?” she said bitterly. “Yeah, I know. I know all the lies you tell yourself, that you tell me.”

She straightened up, smoothing her dress down and wiping a hand over her lips as if to scrub our kiss away. “I’m in agreement this time, though. This shouldn’t have happened. It isn’t the time or the place, not just because of the fact we mi

ght be being watched right now, but regardless of where we are, I wish it hadn’t happened, because you just can’t stop lying, to both of us. You’re blowing hot and cold all the fucking time, Cade. You’re messing with my head, and I can’t deal with it anymore.”

I didn’t have anything to say back to her.

She looked at me expectantly, then when the silence between us stretched to breaking point, pushed away from the desk with an angry growl and stalked out of the room.

The rest of the evening went as well as could be expected—i.e. it was awkward as fuck. We ate a strained dinner, Winter avoiding even looking in my direction, West carrying most of the conversation with my dad. I did get my dad to agree to let me start shadowing him in the business, so at least the evening wasn’t a total waste. He was very cagey about Tuesday nights, though, so that line of questioning was a dead end.

By the time we’d finished eating, we’d all reached our limits of patience.

Outside, I got into the car without saying goodbye to Winter but rolled the window down so I could hear her conversation with West.

“You need a new back tyre. Look.” He pointed, crouching next to the wheel arch and shining his phone light onto the wheel. “The tread’s really worn.”