The Lying Game Complete Collection - Sara Shepard Page 0,529

have never been so completely confounded by a member of the opposite sex. I have never not been the one to call the shots. Whatever’s going on with Thayer, it’s totally unfamiliar and new.

And honestly? It’s kind of thrilling.

My excitement must show on my face, because Aidan’s mouth turns up at the corners. “I’ll get you a beer, then!” he says emphatically. “Let’s party!”

I place a hand on his shoulder, cutting him off. “Uh, on second thought, I’m cool. I think I see Madeline outside,” I say, nodding toward the back door. “I have to ask her about something.”

He frowns. “Isn’t that Madeline right there?”

He points behind me, and lo and behold, there’s Madeline talking to Finn Hadley, the very idiot that ditched her for the au pair earlier this summer. If I weren’t so preoccupied, I’d march over there and give her a stern talking-to.

I turn back to Aidan. “Um, I just need …” I offer him an apologetic smile and push past him to the door. Who cares if I don’t have a good excuse? Aidan is history.

There are fewer kids outside, and the sound of crickets and the dull buzz of conversation meld together in a pleasant hum. The night air is cool, and the damp, dewy grass tickles at my toes through my strappy wedge sandals. I inhale the scent of the warm summer evening, flavored by the scent of woodsmoke a few houses down.

And then, from across the lawn, I see a rustling of the hedges as the gate from the front drive swings open. A boy steps through and onto the back patio. My breath catches in my throat. Thayer.

My heart hammers as he saunters through the gate, his thick hair still damp from a shower. One curl falls messily across his forehead. He wears a short-sleeved button-down that hangs perfectly on his solid frame and jeans that outline his muscular legs.

“Thayer,” I call out, raising one hand to wave. But then, when my gaze locks on the figure behind him, I lower my hand immediately. The girl shuts the latch of the wooden gate and trots forward to take Thayer’s hand. Her grasp is possessive and showy. He’s mine, it says. All mine.

I take a big step back, hoping, praying, he hasn’t heard me call his name. And as the two of them step into the light, I get a good look at that blond ponytail, that compact, trim-from-tennis frame, and the pair of James jeans she only bought because I had them. And my stomach sinks to my feet.

The girl holding on to Thayer for dear life is my sister. Laurel.

10

TURNABOUT IS FAIR PLAY

“Thayer! Hey, man!”

I stand, rooted to the edge of Nisha’s backyard, watching as Thayer’s soccer buddies cluster around him greeting him eagerly. It’s a lot of guy-ish back-slapping and understated head-nodding. Laurel remains by Thayer’s side through every second, her eyes glued to his face. When she’s forced to let go of his hand while he says hi to the team, she looks almost like a boat that’s drifted away from its slip. She keeps a pale hand hovering near the small of his back and gazes up at him adoringly, possessively.

What I can’t tell, though—and what’s seriously killing me right now—is whether Thayer feels the same way about her. I think about the idiotic, I-don’t-want-to-reveal-my-feelings-so-I’ll-make-you-think-I-don’t-care thing I said last night: I think Laurel wants you to go. She has a crush on you. What if Thayer took it to heart? What if they went back into the clubhouse last night and Thayer confronted her about it? Maybe Laurel was like, Yeah, I really like you. Do you like me? And Thayer, thinking I would never like him, perhaps shrugged and said, Totally. Let’s be a couple.

He never actually denied having feelings for her, after all. And they were holding hands. My head starts to spin. I can’t believe I’m jealous of Laurel—because of Thayer. Everything about this night is totally inside out, and I only just got here.

“Sutton! Here’s that beer!”

I whirl around. Aidan is coming toward me, holding a bottle in his hands. There’s a hopeful expression on his face, meaning he completely missed my signals inside.

But maybe this is perfect timing.

I look back at Thayer, who still hasn’t acknowledged my presence. Two can play at this game, I think. There’s one way to discover exactly what Thayer thinks of me: to feign interest in someone else. It’s usually at the bottom of my bag of tricks,