Cheater (Curious Liaisons 1)

“Don’t I know it.”

Okay, so it’s entirely possible that I once fell asleep at his house and woke up screaming, “Hamburger!”

But in my defense, I’d forgotten to eat after soccer practice, and the parents had been gone again, which meant I got scared and went to Lucas’s house, because, well, he had bigger muscles and was strategic in all his monster-fighting ability. The man had fake ninja stars.

“Just dinner,” I said, my eyes narrowing.

It was his turn to look uncomfortable. “Dinner and polite conversation.”

I pointed my finger at him. “I don’t trust you, Thorn.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Are you under the impression I want your trust?”

Okay, well, that was unnecessarily mean.

“Look, dinner with me Tuesday and you won’t get a bad assessment. In fact, I may just give you a perfect review when the internship is over.”

“Fine,” I snapped, narrowing my eyes at him. “Where are we going?”

“El Gaucho.”

I gasped.

His smile was huge. “What? Mouth already watering?”

“No, I just—too much pumpkin bread.”

“Right.”

We stared at each other in silence.

Until two really pretty girls in Delta Air Lines uniforms approached our table.

“Lucas,” they said in unison. “We’ve only got a few hours left because of the weird schedule. You ready to go?”

“Yup.” Lucas stood and greeted both girls with a full-fledged kiss on the mouth.

My mouth dropped open at the attention he paid both of them, in front of one another, like it was completely okay to swap spit with two people on a Monday morning.

In Starbucks.

In front of me.

I quickly glanced away when Lucas looked down at me. “Avery, meet Tabatha and Cary.”

“Hi.” I forced a pained cheerful smile that I really didn’t feel like offering. Why were they okay with this? How? They were both really cute girls, dark hair, dark eyes—just normal girl-next-door types. I didn’t get it. At all.

One was maybe a size twelve or fourteen, and had curves that would make most girls feel extremely inadequate. The other—I wasn’t sure if she was Tabatha or Cary—was a little bit smaller but not by much. They both resembled a guy’s fantasy girl, at least in my mind.

I looked down at my own frame and frowned.

Maybe that’s what he meant when he said he didn’t date children. I realized how young I must have seemed to him; with my hip leather pants and sleeveless shirt, I might as well have been a boy.

My boobs were nowhere near as big as theirs.

Honestly, I hadn’t wanted to involve myself in his weird bedroom shenanigans; they made my chest feel too tight. Emotionless detachment was the only way to go where Lucas Thorn was concerned. But now, now he had me, because I was curious.

Cary and Tabatha had a little something to hang on to, and they wore their confidence well.

Story of my life: I think Lucas and I are back in friendship territory, only to discover there’s another girl (or two) standing in the way.

Not that I’d ever admit that to him. Ever.

It was hard enough admitting the truth to myself.

“Lucas, you’ve been drinking,” I reminded him. A lot. It was the night before Kayla and his wedding. I’d never seen him drink so much.

“So wrong,” he whispered. “So, so wrong.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked, wrapping my arm around his waist while we walked back toward the house. The party was still in full swing, but he’d been done a few shots of tequila ago.

“You.” I stumbled with him toward the house and nearly slammed into the side of the garage as he barreled into me.

“Lucas?” I touched his cheek. “Are you okay?”

His eyes focused on me, and he cupped my face with both hands. It was dark outside, and I could barely see the outline of his mouth. He was always smiling.

Except now.

“Lucas, is it Kayla?”

He snorted. “Kayla? You think this is about Kayla?”

“You are marrying her tomorrow.”

“You think I don’t know that?” he sneered. “You think I’m not fully aware that I’m supposed to be her husband?”

“But—”

“I know,” Lucas snapped. “I know I’m getting married, just like I know that for the past year, the only girl I’ve wanted to kiss is you.”

My knees buckled. “Lucas.”

My eyes filled with tears.

Because I’d loved him longer than forever.

And he’d just said he wanted to kiss me.

But he was engaged to my sister.

My older, much prettier, much more stable and confident sister.

“Wrong,” he whispered. “But just once—God, just once I want to do the wrong thing. Do you think I’m a bad person?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I think you’re drunk and confused.”

“I’m drunk.” His forehead touched mine. “Not confused.”

“Lucas . . . you should sleep it off.”

He nodded and then, without warning, crushed his mouth against mine, his hips pinning me against the wall.

I didn’t know what to do except kiss him back and then very politely—because I was always polite—push him away.

“Sorry.” He hung his head. “I just . . . I wanted wrong.”

“And did it feel right?”

His smile returned. “Yeah, it did.”

My heart flipped. “Lucas, if you aren’t ready for marriage . . .”

“I’m not ready for marriage,” he said quickly.

He swayed on his feet. I let out a sigh, trying to play off that I was annoyed instead of c

ompletely frazzled, heartbroken, upset, excited. I was too many mixed-up things. I didn’t want that future for him, and I hated myself for even contemplating helping him get over his nerves about marrying Kayla, though I knew it was all wrong. It had been for a while.

“Fine, stay here, hold up the wall, and I’ll go get my room ready for you, okay? I’ll sleep on the couch. That way you won’t be in the same room as Kayla, and you can decide what you want to do, alright? The last thing you need is to go back to your parents’ house and grab keys to one of the cars or start confessing to your dad that you won’t go through with it.”

He nodded, his eyes completely unfocused. “Avery.”

“What, Lucas?”

“You always were my favorite Black sister.”

What was I supposed to say to that? Especially since I wasn’t the Black sister who had the ring on her finger. Guilt stabbed me all over until I felt numb.

Because he’d said exactly what I’d always wanted him to say.

But he was completely wasted. And marrying my sister.

“So I’ll see you at work this afternoon?” Lucas softly knocked on my head with his knuckles. “You home, Avery?”

“Ugh.” I shook my head. “Yes. Sorry. Home. Work. Dinner Tuesday. Thanks.”

I left Starbucks so fast that I almost ran into a poor old man trying to order a cup of Pike Place Roast.

Lucas Thorn was the devil.

I just sometimes wished that he’d stayed where he belonged—in hell.

Chapter Fourteen

LUCAS

We didn’t have time for sex. Okay, that’s not true. We had time. But I wasn’t interested. But admitting that meant too many awful things. Maybe it was the universe telling me to stop sticking my dick in multiple women—or maybe it was just bad luck.

Hell, at this point, everything pointed to the day Avery Black came crashing back into my life, all strawberry-blonde hair and judgmental eyes, with tall heels and kissable lips.

Tabatha kissed my neck while Cary slid her hand up my thigh. We were at brunch.

When Cary’s fingers grazed me, I had no choice but to either let her take it further or shove her away and tell her I was feeling . . . sick.

Tabatha kept kissing.