Tell Them Lies (Three Little Words Book 3) (4 page)

F
inally
, he sat next to her, heaving a breath out into the silence around them. Then he leaned forward, clasping his hands together and dropping his head down so that he was staring straight at the concrete sidewalk at their feet.

"My mom, she--" he stopped, cleared his throat, then shook his head. "She has cancer."

"I'm
so
sorry, Kieran," Liz replied before he'd truly finished saying the word. It ached, hearing him say it with such finality. She lifted one hand to set it on the worn black leather covering his back, but she quickly set it back down on her leg.

"It's just us two, you know?" he continued, like she hadn't even spoken. "And I haven't given her much to be excited about. And she keeps nagging-- no, not nagging, that makes her sound like a bored housewife. She wants me to have someone, you know?"

Liz did know. Her parents always asked her if she 'had anyone new' in her life. She just... never did.

"I get that question a lot too," she answered.

"Yeah?"

She nodded. "It never gets easier to tell them that there isn't anyone."

"And there isn't? Anyone?"

It was almost impossible to blink, which was an unconscious action, wasn't it? No thought necessary for the lowering and lifting of the eyelids. But his brown-almost-black eyes were so intense, so darkly fierce that she couldn't look away, not even for the mandatory flutter of skin over her suddenly dry eyes.

"Liz," he prompted when she didn't answer.

"Who
are
you?" she breathed out, not even making a deliberate decision to let the words fall from her tongue.

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

And then she laughed. "No. Definitely no."

"Well, that makes things easier."

At that, she shifted to the side, farther away from him. "Makes what easier?"

It was probably illogical, to feel so nervous at the way he rubbed his hands across the denim covering his thighs. At the way he took in a large, sucking breath before turning to face her. But she did feel nervous, embarrassingly so.

"I told her I was dating someone, and when she asked me for details, I described you."

"What?" Liz said on an exhalation. Her spine went ramrod straight, and her heart pushed against her breastbone. "That's...but...
why
? Why would you
do
that? It doesn't even make sense."

Kieran pushed off the bench again, his hands gripping the back of his neck as he stood. "I don't know, okay? I didn't exactly give it a lot of thought. She was staring at me, with this puppy dog look on her face, practically begging me to lie to her."

Liz snorted. She couldn't help it. And then she slapped a hand over her mouth because she'd probably never snorted in her entire life. At least he had the good grace to look mildly embarrassed.

"It made as much sense as talking about anyone else, if you want to know the truth. I haven't dated much in the past couple years, I've been too damn busy, and you, I don't know, you made an impression. It wasn't hard to talk about you."

Honestly, everything else around them seemed so incredibly normal, despite what he'd just said. The sun had almost set, just like did every night at this time of year. Just a little bit of pinkish-orange clung to the sky around the branches of the trees in the park behind the library. All of this was normal and grounding to look at.

But him? This person wearing black leather and ink was not normal. Not at all. Not for her life.

Liz was not ignorant, she knew that objectively, she was an attractive person. She had symmetrical features and smooth hair, and her figure was one that was generally accepted as desirable according to society's standards. But she also had a tendency to blend, just a little bit. Maybe it was her tendency to stay quiet unless in a completely comfortable and safe situation. Maybe it's because she internalized most of what went through her mind. Either way, it all added up to the fact that she was not used to making an impression.

"You don't talk much, do you?" he asked, his voice elbowing her train of thought aside.

She shrugged one shoulder, looking away from him and down to where her fingers traced the edge of a tortoise shell button on her coat. "I'm an internal processor, I like to know what I think about something before I speak on it. And while you haven't given me a full answer yet, it's still a lot to take in."

Without looking back up, she saw him nod and then run a hand over the top of his head out of the corner of her eye.

"It's not all that warm out here, huh?"

Now she did look at him fully. "A subject-change will do nothing to help you, Kieran, I need to hear the rest of this."

He walked the length of the bench again, then back to where he'd been standing before. And then he sat down, but closer to her than before. Considering the black iron arm rest was digging into her ribcage, she couldn't move any farther away from him.

"I don't have much that I can give to her right now, with how sick she is. But, I can do this for her. Make her happy with this."

"With what?"

Kieran set his jaw and stared at her so hard that she wanted to run as far away as humanly possible. "With you."

"Oh no. Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

And now it was her turn to push off the bench and walk. She didn't pace back though, because in that moment, facing him felt a lot like she was about to jump out of a plane.

Without a parachute.

She
knew it
. Knew this was what he was going to say. And then she started laughing. Couldn't breathe, rib-aching, hunched-over-against-the-wall laughing.

He did not look nearly amused as she felt, with his arms crossed across his broad chest and one eyebrow arched higher than the other. "This isn't funny."

"Oh," she said when she finally caught her breath, "I completely disagree with you there. I find this mind-bendingly funny, Kieran."

Uncrossing his arms and spreading them widely across the bench, he narrowed his eyes at her. "Care to explain how? Because this isn't fu-um, this isn't freaking easy for me to ask you. Do you think I
like
that I don't have an actual girlfriend to bring around my mom? Or that I haven't been able to give her grandkids before she dies?"

Sufficiently chastened, Liz slowly walked back towards the bench, waiting for him to move so she could sit down again.

"No, of course I don't think that's funny, and I'm sorry that I trivialized it. I...I don't understand how you would possibly think it could even work. Or why you think I'd want to take part. I don't...” she shook her head, hating how she kept fumbling over her words around him, “it's not easy for me to lie."

"Ahh, I get it. You're a black and white girl. There's never a situation for you for what you have to question whether your moral compass could shift a little, is there?"

And didn't that just light the slightest bit of anger at the base of her skull? She could feel it creeping up around her head, with sharp, cold claws digging up into her scalp. Who was he to judge her? He didn't know her. At all.

"Do I operate under the principle that lying is bad? Yes, I do. I don't understand how deceiving your mother would be helpful in any way."

He tilted his head back, blowing out a hard breath towards the sky. "If I was lying to be malicious, then yeah, I'd agree with you in a heartbeat. But,
wouldn't
this help her? Give her strength or some shit? Liz, all I'm asking is that you hang out with me a few times when she's around, that's it."

"I don't know," she whispered, shaking her head. And she
didn't
, it wasn't a stall tactic to sift through her thoughts.

"Come on," he said with a groan, turning so that he was fully facing her, his knees touching hers.

And the desperation in those two syllables felt so tangible, like she could wrap a fist around them, that it sparked an idea.

"So, you'd owe me, if I did this for you, right?"

"Yeah," he replied with just a touch of wariness and a slight narrowing of his eyes.

Nodding once, Liz pulled her purse off her shoulder and unzipped the middle compartment. Not taking her eyes off of Kieran, she pulled the thick paper square from where she'd left it earlier, and handed it to him.

"That's my condition."

S
he knew
what he was seeing. She'd been staring at it for weeks.

S
he'd felt
the edges of the heavy, crisp white paper. She’d traced her fingers over the lush gold calligraphy embossed upon it. And what she hadn't done was send back her RSVP card. It was almost positively a pity invite, that they'd added 'and guest' after her name. Of course, she was a co-maid of honor with Rachel, and thrilled to be doing it. But the thought of going to yet another event alone was stifling. Bleak. Disheartening. On and on the adjectives could go, never quite enough syllables to describe just how much she didn't want to go alone.

"So," Kieran said, interrupting her thoughts. Again. "You need a date, right?"

Liz cleared her throat and plucked the invitation out of his rather large hands.

"Yes."

"Done."

"Really? Wait. Hang on." Liz pressed a hand on her chest, trying to push against the panic that was swelling there. She couldn't lie to Casey and Rachel. Pretend that this person with a hard jaw and hard eyes and broad chest was actually
with
her. Could she? "I don't know."

"What's not to know? Is he your ex? I can easily make him jealous. Feel you up a little on the dance floor."

She shot him an unamused look. Because she was. Completely unamused. Except, he had this one-sided smirk that made her the smallest level of amused that she’d admit to.

"No. Casey is one of my best friends, and I'm one of her bridesmaids. I...I don't want them to..."

"Pity you?"

"They don't pity me," she replied vehemently. He looked about as unconvinced as she felt. Because didn't they? Everyone had so much going on in their lives. Babies and weddings and families and relationships. And since she was always the one available to do things, always the one to have an open schedule, she could see it in their eyes a little bit.

And a
little bit
was enough claw at her skin. "Okay, maybe they do. But they're not mean about it."

Kieran held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Hey, no need to get defensive. You know I won't judge why you don't want to do this by yourself."

"I have lost my mind.” Slumping forward, Liz dropped her head into her hands and groaned. “They wouldn't believe it anyway. That I'd actually bring some random man to her rehearsal dinner and wedding."

"I'm not some random guy."

Liz looked over at him, sliding her hands away from her eyes so she could see him clearly. He looked so certain, not a single part of him wavering in this idea.

"What do you mean?"

"I wouldn't be some random guy, Liz. I'd be
the
guy. At least for now. No reason they'd have to know differently."

"That's a lot of lying, Kieran. I don't know if I can do it," she said honestly, not able to push the same belief into her tone that he had in his. He didn't respond right away, so she settled her hands in front of her eyes again, pushing them into the sockets. When he laid a hand on her back, she looked over at him. The heat of that one hand, those five fingers and a palm, pushed right past the wool of her coat and into her skin.

"You can. Because doing shit by yourself over and over and over gets old. I feel you there, okay? It's not easier to do that than to show up there with me. I promise."

"How are you so
sure
though? It doesn't make sense."

He smiled widely and leaned in until their foreheads were almost touching. "Because I thought you were hot as hell the moment I saw you, it will be a piece of cake to act like I'm with you."

Liz practically flew backwards on the bench and then grimaced when he laughed at her admittedly overblown reaction.

Kieran wagged a finger at her, still grinning. "See now, you can't be doing stuff like that if I compliment you in front of people."

"Oh, this is such a bad idea," she whispered.

"It's going to be awesome."

Liz scoffed. "Yeah, right."

"It will," he said, and then spread his hands out in front of him like he was framing a movie screen. "I can see it now, you're going to get adorably drunk and beg me to deflower you after the reception. I'll say yes, by the way."

"That's disappointing," she snapped.

"It won't be, I promise."

"No, that you'd buy into such obvious cliches. I'm a librarian, not a nun. You might be begging
me
by the end of the night."

"Oh, of that I have no doubt, angel."

Her heart was positively galloping in her chest. She never said stuff like that. And what was worse was that she could feel the blush staining her cheeks, completely undermining the tiny bit of snark she'd thrown at him.

"Don't you dare call me angel."

"Muffin?"

"No."

"Babycakes?"

"I will murder you if you try it."

"How about--"

"No. Nicknames." Liz stood, fighting so valiantly against the smile that threatened at the look on his face. He was thinking so hard, his eyes narrowed on her face, his dark eyebrows arching in towards his perfectly straight nose.

"Peaches?"

"That doesn't even make sense."

"Boo bear?"

She started walking towards her car and heard him laugh, then the pounding of his boots on the parking lot when he ran to catch up with her. One firm hand wrapped around her upper arm and turned her towards him. The smile was still there, one dimple popping in among the dark stubble on his face.

"Liz." It wasn't a question. It was a peace offering. "Better?"

With a nod, she gently pulled her arm from his grip. His eyes tracked the movement and then moved back up to hers.

"Are you serious about this? I go to this wedding with you, and you help me with my mom?"

"And the rehearsal dinner."

"Of course," he agreed quickly, eyes boring into hers. "What about your parents?"

"That won't be a problem. My parents winter in Arizona every year. They decided to extend their trip home another six weeks."

Kieran hummed, watching as she smoothed a hand down her ponytail. "Any other family I need to impress?"

She shook her head, squinting her eyes far past him, like there was something extremely interesting going on in the empty parking lot behind him. There wasn't, of course. He was by far the most interesting thing in pretty much forever. "Just me."

Suddenly, and quite inexplicably, he was stepping in and hugging her. Hugging her. As in, arms wrapped completely around her in an incredibly tight and informal and inappropriate way, his face turned into her neck so that she could actually feel his breath on her neck.

Liz held her arms away from his body, trying to breathe without pulling in his overwhelming scent. "What...what are you doing?"

"Uhh, I'm hugging you?"

"Right." And then she extricated herself and stepped back away from him. And he was smiling again, which did strange things to her stomach. "Why, exactly?"

"You looked like you needed it?"

"Do you not
know
why you hugged me or is it enjoyable to keep answering me with questions?"

Kieran barked out a laugh and moved his eyes over
every single inch
of her face. "You make me a little nervous, pumpkin."

Liz closed her eyes and sighed.

"Sorry. Liz. You make me a little nervous, Liz."

"I'm sure that will pass with increased familiarity. I'm not the type to cause nerves, in anyone, really."

"Oh," he drawled, "I don't believe that for a second. You've got this hot, mean teacher thing goin' on. It's scary as hell."

"And on that note, I'm going home. I'm cold, it's late, and the more you continue speaking, the less sure I am that this is even a remotely good idea."

Kieran gestured towards her car, and fell in step beside her. There wasn't much space between them as they walked, and every so often the sleeve of her coat would brush up against the leather of his. How could she still smell him? It made no sense. The wind had picked up again, a slight bite of cold against her face, but that warm, masculine smell still radiated off of him.

It was pleasantly surprising when he reached past her to open the driver's door for her, but before she could slide into the seat, he stopped her with his other hand.

"Let me give you my number first. I don't think my mom will be all that patient to meet you, I'll text you to set something up."

Nodding, Liz pulled her phone from her purse and handed it to him so that he could program his number in. The screen was still illuminated on his contact information, and she couldn't help but shake her head when she saw how he'd labeled himself.

Love of my life (Kieran)

"
You're delusional," she said, looking up at him, softening it with a smile.

"I prefer confidently optimistic."

"Uh huh."

"You'll see. I'm always right about this stuff."

It was only when she was pulling out of the parking lot and looked in her rear view mirror and saw him still standing by where she'd been parked, watching her drive away, that she whispered an answer.

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”