All the Lies (Lies & Truths 1)
“I’m just saying. It must’ve been a pain to not have your moments with Asher in peace.”
“What do you know about her death?”
“Nothing much.” She lifts her shoulder. “During our senior year in high school, we all found out she killed herself, and that was it.”
“K-killed herself? I thought it was an accident.”
Lucy leans closer. “That’s what the Carson family has been saying, but you told us back then she killed herself and that it was horrific.”
“Did I tell you why she did it?”
“No.” Lucy’s expression shifts. “Arianna was so lonely, so none of us were surprised she ended her life, you know.”
No. I don’t know.
Why would a seventeen-year-old kill herself? She had Asher and me—why didn’t we help her?
After saying goodbye, Luce slips out the door, leaving me all alone with my jumbled thoughts.
Arianna was so much more than I thought.
She wasn’t just Asher’s sister; she was my friend, too, and I feel like a failure for forgetting about her and the circumstances of her death.
With those thoughts, I strip and step into the shower.
Water beats down on me, cool and soothing, but my heart won’t stop punching so hard against my ribcage.
That gloomy cloud hangs over my head like a sinister promise.
If I don’t do something about it, I won’t be able to sleep tonight.
A rustle sounds behind the door, and I startle.
“W-who’s there?”
The door to the shower swings open and I shriek.
Asher stands at the entrance with a dark look on his face.
My world tilts off balance as I stare up into Asher’s eyes. Those dark, dark eyes.
They’re not even looking at me—they’re staring right through me.
My body.
My heart.
My soul.
The smarter plan would be to hide from his hungry gaze or kick him out.
I don’t.
I continue staring at him as his penetrating gaze trails a path from my face to my breasts and down to my clenched thighs.
It’s like his hands are roaming all over my skin, touching me, manhandling me, pulling me closer, crushing me into him.
My lower lip trembles at the mere thought. I’m so glad the water is beating down on me or my reaction to my own imagination would be so obvious.