Cheater (Curious Liaisons 1)

My head hurt. The whole situation was going to end up coming back and biting me in the ass. I couldn’t shake the feeling that bad things were coming.

Chapter Twelve

LUCAS

Three hours later, and I still couldn’t shake the headache or the onslaught of memories I’d kept locked away. They thumped around in my brain like a bad movie on repeat.

Avery didn’t know.

Nobody did.

Avery knew what I wanted her to know, which was enough.

I stared out the window of my apartment. I had to face her at work tomorrow, and I had to make sure that she didn’t get under my skin, or ever find out the truth about that night.

My phone rang.

It was my mom.

Son of a bitch.

Let the games begin.

“Hello?” I always answered my mom’s calls. If I didn’t, she called the police. In her mind I lived in the big, bad, scary city, and even though I was only about an hour away, I basically lived “in hell.” Her words, not mine.

“Honey, don’t freak out.” Her tone was way too elated for this to be a normal check-in. “But I just got off the phone with Erin.”

A rock the size of Texas settled in my stomach as my heart started rapidly thudding against my chest.

“Of course you did.” What were the chances of a meteor hitting the earth? Scratch that, landing smack dab in Belltown, only to take out one single room in an apartment building?

“And don’t be angry with her, but some interesting news just . . . slipped out.”

“Naturally.”

“Because you know Erin.”

“I know Erin.” I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose.

“I mean, really, it wasn’t her fault at all—I think it’s the baby.”

Damn it! Unfair! You can’t blame an unborn child for her inability to keep her trap shut! Hell, damn, shit, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. With shaking hands, I poured some whiskey into a glass, then stared at the bottle and brought it to my lips.

“Are you drinking?”

“No.” Hell yes.

“Honey, think of your liver.”

HAH! My liver was the least of my worries. If God were just, he’d kill me now, right now. I closed my eyes tight. We were going to have the conversation. The one I always swore I’d never have. Where my mom dug up the past, made me feel like shit, and cried.

“Anyways . . .” She chuckled. “The youngest Black girl? I mean, do you think that’s a good idea? Things are just starting to get back to normal between us and the Blacks. We act like neighbors again, we wave at one another. Why, just the other day your father said hello to them and didn’t get ignored!” She sighed, maybe realizing that it had taken four years simply to exchange a hello. “Well, it doesn’t matter I guess. What’s done is done. And honestly, this may help heal what happened between us.” She started sniffing. “I miss them so much. You know I went to high school with Tess and Stewart.” Yes, I knew. Everyone knew that the minute I’d fucked up, I hadn’t just done it to myself but to a friendship that was known throughout our town. For shit’s sake, our parents used to plan block parties together. Avery’s mom was my godmother! Guilt kicked me over and over again until I thought I was going to puke. “Your father and I are so proud!”

Thud, thud. My heart strained to a painful degree. And there it was.

Proud.

They were proud.

“You’re proud,” I repeated. “The last time you said that I was graduating college with honors. You’ve said that twice to me in my life.” The other time was when I asked Kayla to marry me.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.” She paused. “Honey, are you sure you’re not drinking? Erin said you had a little incident with your mirror.”

“Thought I saw a spider.” I sighed and took another heavy drink. “You know how I get.”

“Use the little spider thingy I got you from the airline catalog! Remember, it saves them so you can set them free in the wild.”

Of what? Downtown Seattle?

Parents. Why? Just. I had nothing.

“So when can we do dinner?”

That was better. Change the subject. Though dinner with my parents after the Avery news probably wouldn’t be the wisest course of action.

They were proud.

Proud.

I had no choice.

“I think I’m free Tuesday night.” Both Cary and Tabatha were on a flight that evening, so I wouldn’t get the much-needed and deserved sex I’d been looking forward to ever since Avery Black had blasted back into my life like an atom bomb.

“Boom!” I made a little exploding motion with my hand that held the bottle. Kids, this is your brain, this is your brain on drugs—note it looks exactly like what happens to Lucas when he and Avery are in the same room. Fascinating!

“Tuesday,” she whispered to herself. “Tuesday.” Another long pause. “Tuesday.”

“In two days, Mom!”

“Don’t raise your voice at your mother!” my father bellowed, and I jerked the phone away from my ear.

“Oh good, you’re on speakerphone.” I made a gun shape with my hand, motioning toward my head, and took another swig from the bottle.

“Son, are you drinking?”

“Nope.” I took another long drink.

“Tuesday!” my mother shouted. “Perfect. We’ll text you the name of the restaurant. Now, make sure to bring Avery.” When my parents and I went out to dinner,

they always picked the restaurant and I always paid. It was kind of how it worked—it was the least I could do after all the pain I’d caused. Wait, did she just say “Avery”?

“The hell?”

“Language!” my father boomed.

“Sorry—I meant, she’s busy.” I rolled my eyes.

“Can she cancel her plans?” my mom pleaded and then started sniffling.

“Son, don’t make your mother cry. She’s had an emotional day, what with Fluffy dying.”

“Fluffy’s been dead FOR A YEAR!”

“Still . . .” She sniffled loudly. “Hurts, you know that the Blacks gave me Fluffy before . . .”

Before I screwed up.

Before I ruined my parents’ lives.

Before I moved away.

So I did what idiots always did when cornered—I damned Avery Black to hell and said, “I’m sure she can make it.”

The conversation ended when my mother asked when we were having kids.

I carried the bottle to bed.

Chapter Thirteen

AVERY

It wasn’t a big deal. Just a Monday. I was making it worse than it really was, anxiety building up in my stomach so much that I’d almost puked twice that morning.

He’d actually threatened to fire me—or at least give me such a bad review, I wouldn’t be able to work for the company, the one that had a six-figure starting salary with my name on it and a really shiny company card that would let me charge things like lunch.

Steak.

Business trips!

It was like my imminent homelessness meant nothing to him!

I was exaggerating.

But still!

He was an ass!

But it wasn’t his threat that had been the last straw—it was the look on his face while he’d said it, like he’d just seen a ghost or maybe he was spooked to see a demon when he looked into the mirror. God only knew how many of those he had hanging off his body, what with all the sin he invited. Because I had to face the truth—he was a down and dirty cheater.

I don’t know why I had such a hard time believing it when it slapped me in the face on a daily basis—via his updated calendar notifications on my cell.