Beautiful Liar (The Reed Rivers Trilogy 2) - Page 45
Holy fuck. I’ve never been more relieved to be able to honestly quote anybody’s exact words in my entire life.
“That’s so amazingly wonderful to know. Ever since Mr. Gates, I’ve been so paranoid and filled with self-doubt. Not only that, I’ve had such a hard time trusting anyone. The same way you’ve felt after Stephanie Moreland. I think Mr. Gates is part of the reason why I went so batshit psycho on my boyfriend, Shawn, when I discovered he’d cheated on me. Because I’d let down my guard with him and trusted him. And it’s so, so hard for me to do that.”
I pause. And disengage from our embrace. “Um. So... how ‘batshit psycho’ are we talking here?”
She smiles through her tears. “Pretty fucking psycho.”
I wait, but she says nothing further. All she does is giggle.
“You’re not planning to elaborate?” I say.
“Not really,” she says. And then she laughs again, still wiping tears.
I kiss her cheek. “Come on, Ricci. If I’ve invited a psycho into my home, I think I should know about it.”
She twists her mouth adorably. Takes my hand, and kisses the top of it. “Okay, Mr. Rivers. I’ll tell you this story, too. Why not? But let’s talk about this next thing in the pool. I’m suddenly feeling the urge to float.”
Chapter 19
Reed
Georgie, the most beautiful girl in the world, is naked and floating silently in my moonlit swimming pool, while I stand next to her, looking down on her. Feeling like I’m staring at an angel sent straight from heaven. A batshit psycho angel, apparently. She hasn’t told me the story yet. We had some champagne while sitting on the pool ledge together. And then peeled off our clothes. Made out a bit. And now, she’s floating and in some sort of meditation, while I stand next to her, lightly supporting her naked, horizontal frame, thinking two things on repeat. One, I’ll never let anybody hurt you again. And, two, I’ve never seen anything so fucking beautiful in my life.
Finally, Georgie opens her eyes and stands. Without saying a word, she wraps her arms and legs around my neck and torso, like a monkey clinging to a tree, and nuzzles her nose into mine. “I feel better now.”
“Good. That’s all I want for you. I want you to feel good and nothing else.”
“Thank you. I feel good when I’m with you.”
My heart skips a beat. “I feel good when I’m with you.”
“Good. Now, walk me around the pool, while I lay my cheek on your shoulder and tell you about the time I went batshit psycho on my cheating ex.”
“I can’t wait to hear the story.”
I begin walking a loop around the shallow end of my pool, as Georgina tells me about the time she awakened one fateful morning and discovered a string of texts and photos on her then-boyfriend’s phone that confirmed her long-simmering suspicions: he was cheating on her like she didn’t exist.
“Actually,” she says, “confirming Shawn was cheating on me was a huge relief. Twice before that morning, I’d told Shawn he was acting really weird and suspicious and secretive, but both times he said I was crazy and paranoid. So, I was kind of thrilled in a weird way to finally know I wasn’t insane—that he was cheating on me. And not just cheating on me. The dude had four side chicks.”
“Four? Oh my God. No wonder you went batshit psycho on him.”
“Right? Who could blame me!”
“So, what’d you do to the guy?”
She laughs. “I’m scared to tell you. I don’t want you to be scared of me and send me packing.”
Oh, God. She’s so fucking adorable. “No worries about that. Your invitation to stay here for the whole summer is irrevocable.”
She lifts her cheek from my shoulder and beams a radiant smile at me.
“Come on baby,” I coo. “A little psycho won’t scare me off. To be honest, I get turned on by a little bit of crazy. It keeps things from getting boring for me.”
“Yeah, well, this wasn’t a little bit of crazy, sweetie. It was a shit-ton of batshit psycho.”
I wince. “Okay, I admit you’re starting to scare me a tiny bit.”
She giggles uproariously. “One more glass of champagne and then I’ll tell you everything,” she says with gusto, clearly savoring the fact that I’m on the edge of my proverbial seat, waiting to hear this story from her.
But, of course, since her wish is my command, I carry her to the ledge, where I fill our empty flutes from a bottle of Cristal we brought down to the pool with us.
“Aah, that’s good,” she says after taking a long sip. “Best champagne I’ve ever had.”
“I should hope so. This stuff ain’t cheap. It’s liquid gold. Now, come on. Tell me what you did to the guy. No more stalling. I know you’re enjoying torturing me. But enough is enough.”
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