Cheater (Curious Liaisons 1)

Guilt stabbed me right in the chest. Because how many times had I wanted exactly that? How many times had I measured myself against Kayla? And come up short?

Did God hate me that much? To dangle crack-filled pancakes in front of me along with the man who got away? The same man who broke my sister’s heart? And damaged countless lives?

I entertained that conundrum for possibly thirty seconds before I shoved it away and finished my pancakes. He’d always been a good cook, which was just another thing that I hated about him.

Assholes weren’t allowed to be good cooks. Or rich. Damn it, he should have been poor! With a beer belly and adult acne!

With no choice but to do the semiwalk of shame into the living room, I gathered my hair into a low ponytail, located my shoes, and shuffled barefoot into the light.

Like a loser.

“Thanks.” I dropped my shoes onto the hardwood floor and washed off my plate, then found the dishwasher and loaded it. “For the pancakes.”

Lucas was staring at me over his coffee as though I’d grown five heads.

“What?” I shrugged. “What’s that look for?”

“Did you just clean a dish?”

“Bite me.”

“You never do dishes.”

“Lucas, as much as I’d like to shove our history up your ass and light you on fire, I can’t, you know, because I wouldn’t survive prison, and they don’t have Starbucks there . . . But four years is a long time. I’ve changed.” I sighed. “I mean, both of us have. I’m a mildly successful college graduate discovering what I want to do with my life, paying my own electricity bill and you”—I pointed to him—“you . . .”

“I what?”

He took a long sip of coffee. I didn’t wait for him to swallow.

“You’re a lying, cheating whore.” I said it sweetly, even batted my eyes at him. That made it better, right?

“It isn’t cheating if—”

“Right, I get it—to you it’s not cheating if they know. To me it just seems like a really solid way to get an STD or get a girl pregnant that you don’t even like, making it so you have to fire Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday!”

“I do like them, and why not Friday?”

“Oh, I had a good feeling about her.” I smirked. “She had nice lipstick. I can see it now: an unplanned pregnancy, little Nadia moving into this chic apartment, putting her stuff all over, and you finding tampons in the bathroom, only to come out to her sobbing on the couch while the baby cries . . .” I sighed cheerfully. “The perfect family.”

Lucas went from vibrant to pale, all within the span of a minute.

“Something bothering you, Thorn?”

“Other than your voice?” He shook his head. “Nope, can’t think of a thing.”

A knock sounded at the door. Lucas nearly dropped his coffee, then stared at the door. “Shit, she’s early.”

“So.” I located my purse, tossed on the couch, and snagged it. “Just let her in, what’s the big deal? It’s not like anything happened, and your sister loves me.”

He gave me the most irritated look ever. “You’re right. I can’t think of one solid reason why it would be weird, my sister walking in, seeing you for the first time in years, looking the way you do, walking the walk of shame out of my apartment . . . her thinking that I’ve plowed my way through every Black sister. You’re right—why am I so worried?”

My heart clenched. It shouldn’t have, but that’s the thing about hearts; even when you think yours is solidly on lockdown, it still manages to twinge when someone says something hurtful, especially when they don’t even realize it is.

Then again, Lucas had gone from promising something he had no business promising a girl of seventeen—to landing in her older sister’s bed. Drunk off his ass.

I took a deep breath and paused to think. “We’ll lie.”

“No shit. Why hadn’t I thought of that?” He glared at me.

“I’m storing this conversation for later, when I throw it back in your face and give you a big fat giant ‘I told you so.’” I stomped over to the door and threw it wide open. “ERIN!” I might have said her name a smidge too loud, considering she took a cautious step back like I was about to launch myself onto her. “Long time no s-see.” Oh hell, the stutter—that wasn’t what was needed in this situation. Confidence, Avery!

Erin’s eyes narrowed, and then she shoved past me, grabbed the closest weapon, which just so happened to be the spatula, and started reaming on Lucas.

It was a really great show. Where was popcorn when I needed it?

“A little help!” he screamed in my direction while covering his head with one hand and his man parts with the other.

I yawned, checked my fingernails, entertained the thought of busting out some yoga, then very slowly raced an imaginary snail over to their location and said, “Stop, it’s okay, Erin.”

“IT’S NOT OKAY! HE SWORE HE WOULD NEVER REPLACE ME ON A SUNDAY.” Swat. “What’s WORSE!” Two swats. “He did it with you!” Swat, swat, swat . . . “How dare you, Lucas! This is going to disappoint Mom and Dad all over again! I can’t believe you! And with her? She’s completely innocent! Do you want Mom to cry over you again?” She swatted him a few more times.

Laughter gurgled in my throat, though I struggled to hold it back. Oh man, that spatula was getting some action.

“Well, um, actually . . .” I moved to stand in front of him and then wrapped my arm around his neck, squeezing as tightly as I could without bruising him. “We’re seeing each other, er . . . exclusively.”

“You are?” “We are?” Erin and Lucas asked in unison.

“Yeah, you know, our little Thorn is going straight, aren’t you, baby?”

She dropped the spatula, and tears filled her eyes. “Are you serious? You’re not whoring around anymore? Cheating on poor innocent women and giving them the bullshit line that if they know—”

“—it’s not cheating,” I finished for her. “Stupid, right?”

“Stupid doesn’t even begin to cover it.” She smiled brightly through her tears. “I’m just—I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.” She ran a shaky hand through her hair. “God, Mom and Dad have been so worried about you with all of this weird dating going on, and you know how things have never been the same with our families after . . . This could literally fix everything!” She beamed at Lucas. “I mean, clearly you’re over everything now? You can move on from all this serial cheating or dating or whatever it is? I swear if Mom and Dad actually knew what you’d been up to, they’d kill you.” Her eyes filled with more tears. “My baby brother’s settling down!”

I felt slightly guilty as I squeezed him harder and said, “Kind of feels like we just took the first real steps on the moon, right?” Curse words flew under his breath as he tensed beneath my touch.

“Lucas!” She smiled. “Stop being such a baby. I won’t tell Mom and Dad. I’m just, I’m so proud that you’ve found your heart.”

“Imagine—it was in my hands this whole time! And to think we nearly sold it to Satan!” We both burst out laughing.

Lucas flinched and mumbled, “Excuse me.”

Which wasn’t like him.

I mean, he was usually polite.

But he was the type to play into schemes like that, or at least make me pay for what I just did, but hey, at least I’d made him look awesome in front of his sister and protected both of us from shaming in the process.

Instead, he walked from the room without another word.

“Maybe you should go check on him?” She frowned like she was concerned his feelings were hurt. Sorry, honey, that ship sailed long ago. The man had no feelings; he was like an emotionally neutral Switzerland.

But I went anyway—to save face.

What I didn’t expect to find was Lucas Thorn having a full-fledged panic attack in his master bathroom, or for him to be bleeding as pieces of mirror spread across the sink and onto the floor, as though he’d ju

st tried to rip it from the wall, got frustrated, and punched it instead.

“Lucas?” I stepped around the glass to where he huddled in the corner, blood trickling down his arm and onto his jeans. “Holy crap, you’re bleeding! Are you okay?”

“Leave.”

“Lucas—”

“I don’t need your help.” He glanced up, and his eyes were unfocused. “Tell my sister I fell, tell her I saw the devil in my reflection and was fighting my own demons. But I want you out of this apartment in two minutes, or I’m going to fire your ass.”

“What?” I hissed. “I just saved you!”

“No,” he barked out. “You saved you. That wasn’t saving me—that was screwing me over, so thank you very much for ruining my life.”

“Well,” I snorted. “Payback’s a bitch.”

He eyed me up and down and whispered, “You have no idea.”

Chapter Eleven

LUCAS

I was able to convince my sister that I’d accidentally slipped and hit the mirror—it was a lame-ass excuse, but she seemed to buy it.

I thought things were cool until she texted me links to a few websites for anger management.

The very last thing I needed was for the Marysville gossip ring to start its chatter. Or for my parents to call Avery’s parents out of concern that a repeat was taking place—God, I could only imagine. I was a man on borrowed time, because even though I loved my sister, she couldn’t keep a secret to save her life.

Which meant.

I was completely screwed in every single way that mattered.

I couldn’t win.

Either I said I was with Avery and finally make everyone happy by fixing the four-year divide between our parents—or history would repeat itself: my dad’s heart would fail out of disappointment for his only son; my mother would cry herself to sleep every night; and Avery’s parents, who I loved almost as much as my own, would be angry yet again.

The worst part? My sister had cried. Again. After brunch.

I blamed her pregnancy.

She said it wasn’t about the baby but because I’d finally grown up and decided to think about someone and something other than myself and my own personal feelings. Funny, because I thought I was already there. I had a solid job, a nice apartment, a fantastic life, and I enjoyed a different girl every day of the week.

That was grown up.

Unlike taking home a drunk Avery Black and helping her nurse a stupid wine hangover that should never have happened in the first place.