Cheater (Curious Liaisons 1)

and fish, and that’s all that really mattered.

Plus the prices weren’t totally ridiculous, so I could probably stretch the gift card—unless my sister decided to order two bottles of expensive wine and drink away her sorrows.

I pressed my hands down along my short black cocktail dress and checked my red lipstick using the camera on my phone.

Stalling.

I was stalling.

But Kayla was . . . Kayla. I loved her—she was an amazing teacher and an even more amazing sister. Growing up, I’d wanted to be just like her and even tried out for cheerleading because of her. After finding out I lacked the necessary coordination, I played sports instead, favoring headbands and basketball shorts over miniskirts and makeup.

I was the black sheep. The tomboy. Now that I was older I’d ditched the basketball shorts and giant T-shirts. But every time I saw Kayla or Brooke, I felt like that teenager again, the awkward girl with braces and no fashion sense who just wished she was as pretty and smart as they were. Even though I knew I wasn’t stupid, my sisters always had a way of making me feel that way when I was younger.

Kayla had never really done anything wrong, although she used to tease me a lot about my insecurities—often in front of Lucas. I pretended it didn’t bother me when she giggled and asked me if I even knew what lipstick was. But her words stung.

And now I had to face her like I’d somehow won this giant prize and lie about everything. I had to pretend Lucas was the greatest—and the real sucky part? He was. I saw greatness in him still, in the small moments he tried to hide from me. But he covered it with anger—and with cheating and unnecessary meanness that threatened to choke me.

I would be defending him to the one woman who I could never measure up to.

And I had to sell it all like he loved me.

When I never stood a chance. Never would.

Shoot. I still didn’t know what I was going to say.

I chewed my lower lip and quickly dialed Lucas’s number, thankful that he’d actually added it to my contacts.

“Miss me already?” he crooned.

I rolled my eyes and absolutely hated that my lips curved into a happy smile while my heart did that little leap and thud against my chest. “How do I explain us?”

“Huh?”

“I may be having dinner with Kayla.”

Absolute silence. And then he said, “Did you just say you’re having dinner with Kayla?”

“Yes.” I closed my eyes and willed my headache away. “Because your mom has a huge mouth, no offense, and doesn’t understand the concept of secrecy, she mentioned something to my mom, remember? If my voice mails from my irate mother are any indication, it took your mother less than twenty-four hours to try to mend the bond between our families and plan our engagement party. You know, the one we lied about not being able to make because we’re taking that trip to South America to save the children?”

“I don’t recall having this conversation at all.”

“Exactly!” I jabbed my finger in the air. “That’s twice I’ve saved your reputation—you can thank me later. Actually, thank me in the form of giving me an amazing review for my internship. This is above and beyond, Thorn!”

“We’re going to South America?”

“No, not really. You know what? I don’t have time for this. Just tell me what I’ll need to say to turn Kayla’s frown upside down. I’ve always been awkward with her when it comes to relationships, especially with you.”

He sighed. “She’s your sister. Don’t you have like magic sister-speak?”

I paused. “No, idiot, we don’t! We’re not exactly close. Stop asking stupid questions and just tell me what to say!”

He sighed again. “Okay, um.”

“Wow, Lucas, don’t talk so fast—I can’t keep up!”

“Stop being such a smart-ass.” I could practically hear his eyes rolling. “Okay, how about”—he sounded nervous—“how about this . . .”

“I’m waiting.”

“You’re also annoying, and yet here I am, talking to you.”

“Thorn!’

“I’ve always had a thing for you.” His voice was confident, smooth. “I ignored my feelings because I’d never dated anyone but Kayla, and once you and I reconnected at work, things just sort of happened. We fought it for—”

“—a day,” I finished, wishing it were true and hating myself more than I cared to admit for being that weak over a man who said the same nice things to every girl he slept with during a one-week period.

“Right,” he fessed up. “After all, you can’t control these things, or plan for them. Some things just happen.”

“Yeah.” Why were my eyes welling with tears? WHY? “They do.”

He coughed. “Is that good enough, Avery Bug?”

I clenched my eyes shut and opened them to see Kayla standing in front of me. “Gotta go,” I said into the phone.

“Hey where are you anyway—”

I hung up and pasted a smile on my face as Kayla and I hugged awkwardly.

“Who was that?” she asked, her gaze zeroing in on the phone still clenched in my hand.

“Plumber,” I announced. “Getting those pipes cleaned, and you know how I feel about tools.”

Her face cracked into a smile. “You wouldn’t know what to do with a wrench if it hit you in the face and came with voice-automated instructions.”

I held my hands in the air. “It’s not my job to wield man tools.”

“So”—she shrugged and gestured at the restaurant—“this looks nice.”

“It’s awesome.” When I looped my arm through hers, she stiffened, once again reminding me that I wasn’t her favorite sister. I wasn’t the one who had anything in common with her. I was the outcast, little Avery Bug, with her sports and her braces. Pulling away would have made things more awkward, so I held my chin high as we walked into Lowell’s together.

The hostess seated us at a nice table for four in the back corner, which was dark enough to cover any sort of bloodstains, in case Kayla decided to turn her steak knife on me.

She ordered a glass of wine, and I got the same thing, not because I wanted it, but so Kayla wouldn’t have to drink alone.

She stared down at the table.

Kayla’s reddish-blonde hair was pulled into a low, tight bun. She wore minimal makeup, and her black slacks and black blouse made her appear more sophisticated than I could ever hope to look. Even on a teacher’s salary, she was dressed like some millionaire’s wife out having drinks after spending all day on her veranda getting fed grapes.

“So”—she sipped her wine and stared at her fork—“you and Lucas.”

Here we go.

Just say what Lucas said and explain the story, make it sound real. Except. It wasn’t real. None of it.

I opened my mouth just as someone approached our table.

“We’re not ready yet,” I barked out without even looking up.

Whoever it was scurried away.

Kayla finally made eye contact. It killed me that her eyes were filled with tears, that I was lying to her to protect Lucas and bring our families together again—and that the mess was partially my fault. Lucas and I were in it together, but for some reason I didn’t want her to think the worst of him. Memories of my time with Lucas for all of those years hit me square in the face.

It was getting harder and harder to ignore the truth of what had happened between Lucas and me.

That night, years before.

I just had no idea why it was okay for me to hate him—but nobody else.

Kayla sighed, and her lower lip wobbled. “He’s a good guy,” she said. “I think—I mean, he panicked. I get why. We’d been together since junior high, and he was drunk that night. I don’t forgive him, but . . . Brooke even admitted that nothing happened. He stumbled into her room by accident, you know?”

I fought back a snort. “Yeah, he’s . . . great.” At stumbling into EVERY room.

Hell, one might ev

en say he had a revolving door to his own room!

“We would have never worked out.” She clutched the stem of her wineglass too tightly, and I was afraid she was going to either shatter the glass or spill the wine. “I know that now. Besides, we hadn’t had sex in forever.”

“Um, Kayla—”

“I mean, that’s not normal, right?” Tears spilled onto her cheeks. “Six months! We hadn’t slept together in six months. And look, I’m not blaming you, but all he wanted to do was hang out with you. You always had a soccer game, or work that he drove you to, or whatever. The whole situation isn’t even a big deal anymore, but in the end you guys were like best friends. I was too busy with grad school to really notice.”

I felt like I was going to puke.

Because if Kayla’s memory of the no-sex timing served.

He stopped having sex with her.

The very first night we almost kissed.

But that could mean anything.

Plus between starting his new job and wedding planning, he’d probably been exhausted.

And I’d been downright terrified over all the feelings I had for him and the looks we gave each other when we hung out.

I downed the rest of my wine and nodded. “You guys were both just really busy, going in different directions.”

“I need you to be honest with me, Avery.” Kayla leaned forward. “Did you sleep with Lucas when we were together?”

“WHAT?” I yelled. “No, Kayla, believe me, I would NEVER have done that to you.”

“So you guys never kissed or anything?”

I opened my mouth to deny it—but I hesitated. Because we had kissed, the night that changed everything. But he was drunk.

“No,” I lied. Hating myself for it. Hating him all over again for breaking up my family. And to what aim? When, in the end, he simply moved on to having six or seven girls at a time and left us behind—left me behind.

“Don’t lie to me, Avery Bug.” Tears spilled onto Kayla’s cheeks again.

I was just about to confess everything when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lucas enter the restaurant.

Kayla started to turn just as Chelsea sat down with him. Oh holy hot dog, no, no, just . . .