Lie, Lie Again - Stacy Wise Page 0,31

in, enjoying Saturday-morning omelets, but strangely enough, she was at the table with them. A lump built in her throat. Maybe that was the real reason for her loneliness. It’d be nice to have someone to spend the rainy Saturday with. A family of her own. Maybe she would call Chris later and see if he wanted to come over tonight to make pasta with garlic bread. He was a good guy. Everyone liked him. And it would be a perfect night to stay in and enjoy dinner with a movie, especially since it hadn’t worked out last night.

But as soon as she imagined him in her apartment, his wallet on her counter and his socks in her bedroom, she started to feel like she needed some air. She stood and filled a glass with water. Maybe she shouldn’t call him. She wished she knew how good relationships were supposed to feel. The sex was easy—she knew she liked that part with him. But what did it mean that she never wanted him to stick around, and when he was away, she felt lonely? Was there something wrong with her? She thought about this, reviewing all her past relationships as though flipping through a yearbook.

She skipped right past her high school boyfriends—well, all two of them—because they had been more like friend-boys whom she’d seen movies with or gone to dances with in big groups. College brought her first real boyfriend, Darian. He had quickly and efficiently broken her heart. After they dated for a few months, he was ready to move on to his next conquest, the pretty exchange student from Germany. Following that, she’d dated only a few guys very casually.

Her heart stung as she remembered how Darian had brushed the hair that fell toward her face as they’d stood under the big shade tree in middle campus.

“You’re so sweet,” he said. “We’ve had some good times.”

“We’ve had some great times.” Riki stood on tiptoes to kiss his lips. “It’ll only get better.” Her mind had raced ahead, sprinkling rose petals along the path that led to an altar and a pretty white gown.

He stepped back, his eyes darting to the tree, the sky, and finally back to her. “I don’t think so. This is where it ends, Riki. I’ve met someone else.”

“Oh.”

That was all she could say. She didn’t scream or yell or beg for him to stay. She didn’t ask who it was or where he’d met her. In that moment, she froze. And he left her there, standing under the tree, all alone.

She shook her head. That was a long time ago. I shouldn’t even care anymore.

But it still stung.

She’d never walk into that kind of pain again. Chris wasn’t like Darian. He wouldn’t suddenly drop her for someone new. So why was she feeling so hesitant with him? The answer rippled to life like a Technicolor picture right in front of her, but she blinked it away. Don’t hide from it. You know you want it all, a little voice said.

Ha. Not everyone could have it all. Well, Embry and Brandon seemed to have it all, but they were different. She would settle for fine. It was safer that way.

Brandon moved across the room with Carson in his arms, pausing to peer out the window. The baby pressed his hands to the glass, leaving tiny smudges that Embry would have to scrub later, while Kylie pranced about wearing her Supergirl cape, using a spatula as a magic wand, turning anything in her path into a toad or butterfly. Embry wasn’t quite sure what the criteria was, but if Kylie waved that wand at her, she’d request to be cloned. Heaven knows she could use an extra pair of hands.

“It’s too wet to bother with the lawn,” Embry snapped as though it were foolish to even look outside. She folded another towel into a perfect square, and he inched closer to her.

“I wasn’t planning on it. I can see it’s wet.”

“Sorry.” She flapped a dish towel to straighten it. “I’m not mad at you. Carson had a rough night, and I’m tired. Everything is bugging me right now.” She added the towel to her pile. At least that was nice and orderly.

His brows shot up as he tucked his arms across his chest. “Everything? Including me?”

“No.” She waved a hand toward the sink. “I’m scared of the sink now. The thing has a life of its own. And I’m going to have to return the