Forgiving Lies Page 17

“Ohmigod!” she screeched as she followed me into my room. “You have got to see the guys who just moved in across the hall from us!”

“No thanks,” I mumbled.

“Seriously, Rach, these guys are hot with a capital hot. Mason and Logan, they’re cousins. You’ve got to meet them.”

“Like I said—” I turned and stopped short when I saw her. “Candice, please tell me you haven’t met them yet.”

“Of course I have!”

“Were you wearing that?”

She rolled her eyes and turned to check herself out in my full-length mirror. “Duh, I had to show them the goods that will be living next to them!”

“Candice! You’re in cheer shorts and a bikini top! Did you even go to the pool today?”

“Uh, no. But anyway, it doesn’t matter if you want to meet them or not. We’re going out for dinner with both of them tonight.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me back to our living room, pushing back the curtain and peeking through the blinds at the unit directly across from ours. It looked the same as it always did. No activity.

“You might be going out for dinner. I’m not going anywhere. Besides, this way you have two guys all to yourself.” I stepped away from the window and headed toward my room, looking back over my shoulder at her as I said, “You might want to warn them that you aren’t a one-guy kind of girl, though.”

She flipped me off without taking her gaze from the window.

“Oh, you know I’m kidding . . . but for real, warn them.”

“So hateful.” She shook her head and dropped the blinds and curtains before walking past me toward her own room. “Whatever, I’ll be lucky if either is interested in me after they’ve seen you. I’m going to hop in the shower, and you should start getting ready soon. We’re leaving at seven.”

“I’m not going, Candice!” But it didn’t matter; she’d already shut her bedroom door.

With a sigh, I turned and went to my bathroom. Stripping out of my comfy clothes, I turned the shower on and waited until the room was filled with steam before stepping in.

And no, I still wasn’t going.

That’s what I continued to tell myself when I was doing my makeup almost forty-five minutes later and when I did large, loose curls throughout the bottom half of my long hair. Not going. Just getting ready to sit around the apartment looking pretty. When my hair was done, I checked my makeup one more time, making sure the smoky eyes were just enough to make my blue eyes pop but not so much that I looked like I was going clubbing. I flossed and brushed my teeth, told myself one more time I wasn’t going to go, then went to my closet to pick out something to wear.

Candice burst into my room thirty minutes later, and I was standing there in a bra and underwear, just staring at my closet.

“I can’t believe you’re not dressed yet! I told you to get ready! They’re going to be here in, like, five minutes!”

“I think this is a sign that I shouldn’t go.”

She huffed and pushed me out of my closet before walking in. “You can tell yourself all you want that you’re not going. But even if you’d stayed all skanked out like you were earlier, I would’ve still dragged you out the door with us.”

I wanted to sneer at her and ask why it was okay to stay skanked out with these guys and not Blake, but I kept my mouth shut. We hadn’t talked about the situation with Blake since Candice had come back to the dorm with food and ice cream that afternoon. It was just easier this way.

In less than two minutes, Candice was walking out of my closet and throwing my outfit onto the bed. “There. Get dressed.”

“Heels? Candice, are these guys even tall?” I’m five eight. And these were four-and-a-half-inch stilettos.

“Yeah, they’re ginormous, they’re going to be here any second, get dressed!”

“Gah, so pushy.” I dressed in my faded skinny jeans, black stilettos, and a loose black tank. The kind you have to wear a camisole underneath unless you feel like showing the entire world what Victoria’s Secret really is. As soon as I was done, Candice was in front of me, her lips pursed as she critiqued my outfit. “Well?”

She stamped her foot—yes, Candice still stamped her foot like a five-year-old—and her pursed lips turned into a pout. “This is so not fair! Can I have your boobs for just one night?”

“Yeah, sure . . . let me just take them off,” I said, deadpan. “Tell me, Candi, do I look all right?”

“Uh, yeah. I’d do you.”

I snorted, “You’re disgusting.”

“You love me.”

Rolling my eyes, I walked into my bathroom and put on some perfume. “It’s true.”

Just then there was a knock on the door. Candice squealed, did her little happy clap, and left my room. I took everything I would need out of my monster of a purse and threw it in the dark green clutch Candice had dropped on my bed as well. With one last breath and look in the mirror, I stepped out into the living room and tripped over myself when I saw them. My hand shot out to the wall to keep myself somewhat vertical, and both guys standing near the door with Candice took a step toward me with eyes wide and arms out. Like they could catch me from over twenty feet away.

This is not happening.

“Wow, smooth, Rach.” Candice sighed and shook her head.

When I righted myself, I tried to keep my eyes on the ground or anywhere but on him. But of course I found myself locked in his steely gaze. Recognition flashed in them and that stupid smirk crossed his face.

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