Cheater (Curious Liaisons 1)

“Don’t make me punch you again, Brooke. There a

re some things even our friend Thatch can’t fix.”

“You really are a stupid child, aren’t you?” she snorted. “Look at him!” All eyes went to Lucas, who was staring at me with his jaw firmly clenched, muscles flexing in his cheeks like he was trying not to say something—or maybe just trying not to help me beat the crap out of my own sister.

I sighed in Brooke’s direction. “All I see is the man I love.”

She burst out laughing. “Oh?”

I nodded, suddenly feeling exposed, vulnerable, like I’d just stripped myself bare in front of the only person capable of hurting me—even when the track record pointed to all signs of doom.

“He can’t help it, Avery.” Brooke sighed. “Once a cheater, always a cheater. You think you’re different. You’re just like every other woman who’s tried to trap Lucas Thorn.”

“Well, you should know, Brooke. Get out of this room before I push you out the window,” I hissed.

She raised her hands in the air. “You trust him, and yet he still hasn’t canceled any of his appointments for next week. Ask Molly—they’re still on for Monday.” Her attention went to Lucas. “It’s his MO. A dinner, a movie, they laugh and go back to her place for wild, crazy sex. He never kisses her mouth, and he promises to call but only does the day before they’re going to meet again. Lucas Thorn is a cheater, and you’ve just been duped.”

My heart sank.

Because Lucas had convinced me otherwise.

Because he’d told me to focus on today. Because I’d agreed to focus on a day at a time.

And blindly ignored the simple fact that he’d never promised commitment, never said we were exclusive.

I’d been given a few days with him.

So had the rest of them.

Brooke walked out, and tears slid down my cheeks.

Lucas’s arms wrapped around my body. “Are you okay?”

I shook my head no.

He bit out a curse and kissed the top of my head. Why did being in his arms have to feel so right? It felt like forever. And yet, even when Brooke had unleashed her tirade . . .

He’d said nothing.

“Tell me the truth, Thorn,” I whispered. “Have you canceled all of your weekly dates?”

He stopped rubbing my back.

“Lucas Thorn.” I whispered his name like the rest of them, with psychotic desire. And it hit me.

They full-named him.

Because that’s what you did for those who are unreachable.

You put them on a pedestal because it’s the only way to handle the inevitable.

If he was “Lucas Thorn,” then it made sense that eventually he’d tire of me.

If he was just “Lucas,” or just “Thorn,” he was a person, reachable.

“Avery, I haven’t talked to them yet, but I will, I swear.”

I closed my eyes against the angry tears. “You haven’t talked to them . . . yet?”

“Avery”—he sighed—“look at me.”

I pulled back, afraid of what I’d see reflected in his eyes. But they were clear as day. There was no confusion or guilt, which was what I’d come to expect from Lucas: he had always been solid, incapable of feeling anything for one single person.

“I want you. Only you.”

“Okay.” My thoughts jumbled together. “And the thought of being with me and only me—no more Mondays or Fridays—that doesn’t terrify you?”

He. Said. Nothing.

“I think I have my answer”—I nodded—“I’ll just . . . Can you tell my parents I got sick? I’ll catch a ride with Austin so that you don’t have to drive me back.”

“The hell!” Lucas gripped my shoulders, his fingers dug into my skin. “Would you rather I lie? Of course I’m terrified. I’ve never done this before! You can’t judge our future by my past!”

“But that’s the thing about pasts . . . As long as they stay in the past, you can move on. But you, Lucas Thorn, have not moved on. You’re stuck in between your past and our future—and that’s not fair. To either of us.”

“I love you!” His grip tightened. “Avery, I love you.”

My heart cracked. Could he tell how hard this was for me? To be in his arms? To walk away when all I wanted to do was crash my mouth against his and beg him to say he loved me over and over again?

But when you love something . . .

You let it go . . .

“Prove it.” I nodded.

He released me and turned on his heel, jerky movements that weren’t normal for a man who did everything with a predatory smoothness that was most of the time absolutely terrifying.

“This is bullshit.” He ran his hands through his hair. “All of it. I can’t believe you’d listen to Brooke.” He paced back and forth. “Avery, I don’t know how to prove it! If I knew how, I would do it. Just tell me—I can’t lose you.” His eyes filled with tears.

“That’s my point!” I choked back a sob. “You’re hurting me without even knowing it. Your moral compass is so skewed that you don’t even realize how you’re hurting me!”

“HOW the hell am I the one hurting YOU?”

Speaking of hurting, my head was starting to throb. After a moment, I held out my hand. “Give me your phone.”

His eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Thorn . . .”

With a curse, he pulled out his cell and tossed it in the air. I caught it with both hands and pressed the home button to light up the screen.

Fifteen new messages.

All from different girls.

“This”—I pointed at the screen—“this hurts.”

“Avery, I haven’t even responded.”

“I want you to choose me not because I’m pressuring you to, because I know you’ll resent me for that. I want you to throw this life away because you want to. And right now you don’t. You think you do, but it’s a comfort, having someone on the side, just in case. I can’t wait at home, knowing that one day you’re going to smell like another woman’s perfume. I want all of you, not a day, not five days—I want forever.”

I chucked his phone at his head and walked out of the room.

And right into World War III in the living room to witness a screaming Austin holding Brooke in an impressive headlock. Grandpa Lewis was clapping his hands like they were doing some sort of country jig, and my mom was trying to pry Brooke and Austin apart while Thatch stood nearby, looking guilty and extremely sad, which made no sense at all.

I stomped over to him, shoved his ripped chest, and shouted, “What the hell did you do?”

“Nothing, I—”

Austin released Brooke. “NOTHING?”

He had the good sense to backpedal. “Austin, we aren’t exclusive—we talked about this. We—”

In tears, she slapped him so hard across the cheek that my own face stung.

Thatch cursed and grabbed his cheek. “What the hell!” he roared. “Austin, we discussed this!”

“ONE WEEK AGO!” she yelled. “And I said I wanted more and you said okay!”

“How the hell does that translate into exclusive?” He dropped his hand. “Because when you said you wanted more, I took more time off so I could be with you—and you seemed happy.” He reached for her. “Aren’t you happy?”

“Yes.” She wiped her tears. “I’m so thrilled. Just jumping for joy that I discovered that witch with her tongue down your throat!”

Brooke flushed bright red.

How the hell had she moved that fast with Thatch? Did she always set up men? And where was Kayla?

I seriously wanted to strangle my sister with my bare hands, and probably would have had Lucas not appeared just then in the living room.

I couldn’t face him.

Not now.

And probably not tomorrow.

I breezed past him and whispered, “I’m quitting the internship.”

Chapter Forty-Three

LUCAS

Things calmed down once Avery and Austin left, but it took a few bottles

of wine for everyone to forget that I was mysteriously without Avery, the girl I had walked in with.

The one I was supposedly marrying.

I made excuses for her.

I lied to everyone about this mysterious illness that also made it look like she’d been crying.

I did what I did best: I Lucas Thorned everyone. And I hated that everyone believed me, that I was so damn good at lying and making people want my lies to be true that I wasn’t even nervous about it. I could literally justify any lie.

And make myself and everyone around me believe it was the truth.

It was the first time in my life I believed what Avery had always said. I was the devil himself.

And I was too proud to go after the one girl who could give me salvation, save me from myself, from the depths of hell.

I grimaced and tipped back a bottle of beer.

Thatch had pursued Austin, but I knew it was already too late.

He’d screwed up.

I knew he would—but I wanted things to be different for them, because Austin deserved a happy ending.

Even if she wasn’t exactly my favorite person.

“She’s not sick, is she?” Kayla’s voice interrupted my morose thoughts. I set the beer bottle down and started to stand. “Wait, sit.”

With a curse, I plopped back down on the chair and looked out at the giant oak tree that Avery had fallen out of when she was a kid. At least it was quiet outside—until now. “I really don’t want to talk, Kayla, not now, not like this.”

“She hides her sadness well.” Kayla took the seat next to me. “I helped Brooke—I was supposed to distract Thatch and get him to leave the room.”

“What?” I hissed as betrayal washed over me. “Why the hell would you help Brooke? You know she’s insane. She’s always been jealous of you and, apparently, now Avery.”

“She’s hurting.” Kayla sighed. “And since I was hurting . . . We’re all capable of making bad choices. My bad choice was made when I came home after seeing you and Avery together and cried myself to sleep.” I winced. “Brooke came into my room and told me about your, um, calendar. Apparently, she and Molly work out at the same gym, and one thing led to another—then suddenly Brooke made the connection.”