The Lies We Tell (The Four 1)

“Hang on, why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” I’d barely been aware of my surroundings, but now I noticed how Cassius was only wearing a pair of grey sweatpants, his muscles rippling and flexing, tattoos snaking up both arms. I tilted my head, studying the intricate designs.

He gave me a sly grin, leaning back and running a hand through his dirty-blond hair. “I prefer not to when I’m in my own home. Enjoying the view?”

I blushed, turning away from him, catching Caiden’s eye. He was glaring. Again. Although this time, it was directed at Cassius.

Cassius followed my line of sight, and he sighed heavily. “I’m going to get a T-shirt. Can I trust you two not to kill each other while I’m gone?”

I shrugged. “Bring a towel back with you in case there’s a bloodbath.”

He snorted and left us alone.

“Plastic sheets.” Caiden spoke softly.

“Huh?”

“If we put them down on the floor, it’s easier to clean up. No blood staining the carpet.”

“Okay, now I’m disturbed. How—no, I don’t even want to know.”

“You brought up the bloodbath.”

“You basically attacked me.”

“You graffitied my car. You don’t want to start a war with me, Snowflake. You won’t win.”

“A war? Look, I’m sorry I defaced such a pretty car, but you had it coming.”

“Such a girl. My car is not ‘pretty.’ And I did not have it coming. That paint better wash off, or I’ll be sending you the bill.” His words were hissed through gritted teeth.

“It is. And you did. And, please, like you can’t afford to have it cleaned off. May I remind you, you started this whole thing by keying my car.”

“That thing is a heap of junk. I improved it, if anything.”

“How is writing the word ‘whore’ improving it?” My voice rose in frustration. “It’s a horrible, asshole-ish thing to do.”

He ignored my comments. “Why are you driving that piece of crap around, anyway? Can’t mother dearest buy you a better one?”

“I’ll never take any money from her,” I bit out. “It’s bad enough that I had to use her name—your name—just to get into this bloody university. I don’t want to owe her anything.”

He stared at me, his stormy eyes clouding over. “I don’t understand.”

“What exactly don’t you understand?”

Cassius chose that moment to walk back into the room, a black T-shirt covering his impressive torso. “Look at that. No blood. You can play nicely together.”

Caiden took a step back, his face smoothing into an impassive mask. “I’m out of here. Get her out of my sight.”

And there he was, back to being an asshole again. Just when we were having our first civil-ish interaction. Or argument. Whatever. I rolled my eyes as he left the room.

“Right, if we’re done here, I’m going home. I’ve got a tequila hangover already and a ten-o’clock lecture, and it’s—what time is it?”

“Two fifteen.”

“Great.”

“Probably wasn’t the best idea to drink tequila on a school night, was it?” Cassius raised a brow at me.

“Ugh. Don’t remind me.” I stood, gripping my head as the headache returned with a vengeance.