A Love Song for Liars (Rivals #1) - Piper Lawson Page 0,24

drags my attention toward a couple a few years older who’ve been flirting at the bar. They shift off the stools, him wrapping an arm around her as they make out on the way past us to the door.

By the time I turn back, Annie’s gone. Slipped past me to plan her next attack on the table.

We trade shots back and forth, careful not to tread on anything too personal, as if we both recognize we got too close.

Best new band you’ve found this year.

Most embarrassing moment at Oakwood.

Vacation you dream of taking after graduation.

Book you were forced to read for English class that you secretly love.

Even though we’re steering clear of dangerous territory, we’re getting to know each other again, and it feels good.

Finally, there’s one shot left. The angle’s terrible. There’s almost no way to catch the three without sinking the eight.

“You got a plan for that?” I ask, coming up behind her.

“Working on it.”

“I can already taste my cheese fries,” I say solemnly.

She bends over the table, her dress inching up the backs of her thighs. “Better grab your wallet, then.”

More than one interested pair of male eyes finds her, and my protectiveness kicks in.

“Let me help,” I say, surprising both of us.

I swore I wouldn’t let myself get caught up in her, but in this darkened dive bar where no one knows her or me, that decision feels a million miles away.

I shift closer, shielding Annie’s body from the rest of the bar with mine. “Get your angle.”

“Oh, I’ve got mine.” Her voice is low and teasing. The flat of her back brushes my chest, her ass pressing lightly against my groin, and I have to bite my cheek to hold in the groan. “Do you?”

Who is this creature, and what has she done with the girl I used to be friends with?

The floral scent is definitely her hair.

I want to know how the rest of her smells.

“You think you know how to do everything,” she murmurs, and her smug tone chafes my ego.

“I do know how to do everything.”

Annie turns her head, catches me staring. Her cheeks are flushed, lips parted, and she’s trying to figure out what I’m playing at.

That makes two of us.

My hands tighten on her as if now that I’ve felt her against me, I can’t stand the thought of her anywhere else.

I won’t kiss her. A thousand paths that lead to my destruction begin with kissing this girl.

But I want to.

I want more of her, closer. To spin her and lift her up on this pool table, to make her see how fucking awesome she is.

To have some of that awesomeness rub off on me.

“Tyler…” Annie turns back to the table, loosing the cue in a smooth, practiced motion that has my brows shooting up. The final two balls sink neatly into the pockets, eight last.

Admiration and pure fucking lust coil at the base of my spine.

I can handle both of those until she utters five words that crash like a battering ram against the wall around my heart.

“You owe me cheese fries.”

8

“Bitch, I missed the hell out of you.” Pen bounces at my front door Thursday right before noon, her lime-green Mini in the driveway. She holds out a gold rectangular box. “This is for your dad and stepmom from my parents. It’s some fancy booze.”

I take it from her and lead the way through the house. “Perfect. Dad, Haley, and Sophie are out, but I’ll put it with the fancy booze collection.”

I head for the wine storage room off the kitchen and drop off the box.

“One for them, one for us. I’m so ready for this PA day.”

I grab a bottle of champagne at random out of one of the coolers.

Surprise crosses Pen’s face. “I thought we were studying.”

“Later. I want to hear all about your trip.”

Soon, we’re in bathing suits by the pool, the sun baking us. She’s telling me about Tuscany, the house and rolling hills.

“And your book recs were on point,” she adds. “I made it through two rom-coms, plus the one about the refugee who started a business in her new country and got all the local women involved. So good.”

“I’m glad. Any guys on this trip?” I prod.

“The winery next door had a son.”

She pulls out her phone and shows me pictures of a guy with dark eyes and curly hair.

“Pen. Did you…?”

“Second base. Which I think is only first base in Italian.” She sighs. “I forgot how much I love your pool.”

“You