Twelve Truths and a Lie (4 page)

B
y the time
Friday rolled around, I was excited to get out and meet my new buddy. That kind of thinking was dangerous, though, because it set me up for disappointment. But newer friendships had fewer ties that could easily be broken. At least that was what I told myself. If it seemed awkward for a while, we’d simply have to get over it.

Cameron was already sitting at the bar and had a seat reserved for me. When he saw me, his entire face lit up, and I imagined him wooing girls with that blinding smile. No wonder he was a reformed manwhore. My panties practically melted from the get-go. But, I was here for the platonic company. Plain and simple.

“You started early,” I remarked, draping my purse strap on the back of the stool.

“I had some soul-searching to do.” He grinned and took a hearty sip of his draft beer. I hoped it was only his first. “I would’ve ordered for you, but I didn’t want to assume you drank the same thing every time.”

“Thanks for that.” My hip brushed against his as I sat down, and I gulped at how thick his thigh muscle felt. “I’m actually in the mood for a margarita tonight.”

“If that was the case, we could’ve gone to Barrios on Professor Street,” he said. “Those are the best.”

“Darn, I hadn’t thought of that. Next time I’m in the mood, let’s meet there.”

“It’s a
date
.” Color washed over his cheeks. “You know what I mean.”

“What
do
you mean, Cameron?” I asked, attempting a show of honesty. I needed to start somewhere with the male population, and I figured he’d be good practice. “Is this meeting-up business between us something you want to…are you trying to…?”

So much for being truthful; this was harder than it looked. Heat snaked in a line up my neck, singeing the tops of my ears.

“Trying to
what,
Aurora?” he asked, his eyebrows knitting together. “Just spit it out.”

“You’re not trying to…hook up with me, are you?” I winced and nearly ducked my head I was so mortified. Honesty was kind of for the birds. I took a deep breath and attempted to explain myself again. “Because it sounds to me like you just got off a year-long bender, which could probably use some examining of its own, and had a ton of
dates
in the process,”
I said using air quotes. “And I…well…I have trouble finding my off button when it comes to being with guys who have their share of…”

“Let me cut you off right there,” he said with a tightness in his voice that I couldn’t quite read. “I’ll admit you’re a very…well, damn it…you’re hot, Aurora.” He inhaled sharply but kept his eyes trained on me. “But I’m not trying to get in your pants, trust me. That’s not something I need in my life, either, right now.”

My shoulders relaxed, though my heart was beating double time in my chest. He thought I was hot and God that felt good to hear after such a long stretch.

“So, we’re all clear then?” I said, curling in my fingers for a fist bump. His warm knuckles knocked against mine as we agreed in our own roundabout way to just be friends.

“All clear, Captain,” he said with a grin.

Cameron was definitely sexy and sweet, a great combination. I wonder what happened this past few months that got him so twisted up. I suppose I could’ve asked Nicole’s husband, Michael. Or I could simply ask the man sitting beside me. This was a club meeting after all, we had already established some rules, and we were the only two members.

“Talk to me?” I asked, boldly, after ordering my drink on the rocks, no salt.

His beer stopped midway to his mouth. “About?”

“Your hiatus,” I said, gulping at my own shamelessness. “Or you can tell me to mind my own business.”

He took a couple of swallows and then spun his glass around his fingertips. “I just…”

“Never mind.” I placed my hand on his arm to give it a firm squeeze. “You don’t need somebody trying to get inside your head.”

“You’re good at your job, aren’t you?” he said, searching inside his beer glass as if he’d find some treasure hidden there.

I could feel my eyebrows joining together. “What do you mean?”

He sighed into his cup before chugging it back. “You have this way of making me want to talk to you.”

“I find that most people actually want to talk about themselves, to work through stuff. At least on the surface,” I said, squeezing the lime from the margarita into my glass shortly after the bartender handed me my drink. “But the deep down dark stuff would be hard for anybody to weed through.”

“I can see that.” He adjusted himself on the seat.

A couple of women came to stand behind us, attempting to get the bartender’s attention, but he had already traveled to the customers at the other end. They kept giving Cameron the eye and I got it, because whoa, he was gorgeous. But it was distracting to say the least.

So I sipped my drink and glanced up at the basketball game on the screen instead of continuing the conversation we had begun.

It became a bit awkward as the one girl leaned over to signal to the bartender. She waited in that position until she was finally able to place her order. Before she moved back to stand beside her friend, she said hello to Cameron.

“Hey yourself,” he said, and I felt a strange twinge in my chest. This was stupid, meeting Cameron in a crowded bar where he probably used to hit on women. A swell of anger arose from an unknown source. I reminded myself that Cameron was not my problem. I could be home in bed reading, not sitting here as his second choice for companionship.

I made the motion to slide out of my seat. His hand came down on my arm, and its size and warmth startled me. “Where are you going?”

“Bathroom,” I said, not looking at him. “What are you, the hall monitor?”

“No, it’s just…” A laugh stuttered out of his mouth. “Never mind.” I barely skimmed past the two women standing there, who seemed more than interested in our conversation.

In the restroom, I stood at the sink and got my breaths under control.
You’re an idiot,
I told myself. What Cameron did on his own time was not my concern. We had just established where we stood with one another. I was purely here to pass the time on a Friday night. I needed to consider this meet-up the same as hanging out with Nicole or a co-worker or some other acquaintance.
Finish your drink and go home.

Why prove the cliché that men and women can’t just be friends?

When I exited the bathroom, I saw the same two girls immersed in a conversation with Cameron. Well, at least the one girl was. Her friend, on the other hand, kept looking around the room, as if bored out of her skull.

As I walked toward my bar stool, I considered whether or not it was torture for him to chat up pretty girls. Maybe he’d go home with blue balls tonight. Welcome to the club. What was the female version anyway—pink balls? I snorted at my own attempt at misogyny.

I threw a weak smile Cameron’s way and sat down again, reaching for my drink. Hoping nobody put their germs all over it.

“So, where do you work?” I heard the blonde girl ask him. Oh good God, any more of this, and I would be heading home to my comfy couch.

There was a long pause, and then I felt a hand on my neck. Cameron’s hand. Like a big furry paw.

What in the hell was he doing? Had he had a couple of shots in the time I was gone?

“I work in the same field with my girlfriend here,” Cameron said in a steady voice. “Who I’m glad to be spending a Friday night with.”

And then I felt his warm heat scooting closer to me, while he kept that hand in place, making my skin prickle. What in the world?

His mouth moved to my ear. “Just go with it,
please
. I need to get rid of these two.”

His hot breaths huffed across my sensitive skin as I felt the trace of his lips brushing across my earlobe.

I held in my groan and gripped his knee, the only solid thing I could connect with at the time.

My cheek fell against his neck as he nuzzled my hair. “What the heck are you doing?”

“Hoping they walk away,” he whispered, making me shiver. “Sometimes people don’t get the hint. If I said you were only a friend, they would never leave.”

Sure enough, he was right, I realized, once I had the wherewithal to notice anything other than his scent and the way his long fingers felt wrapped against my nape. When I looked over his shoulder, they had retreated. The blonde girl glanced in our direction one last time with narrowed eyes.

I wanted to stay locked up in his warmth for a bit longer. Wow, did he smell good. If the word comfort had a scent attached to it, he would be it. Like the vanilla candles I sometimes lit on a rainy night. Or clothes pulled fresh from the dryer.

Reluctantly, I drew back. “They’re gone.”

His eyes fastened on mine as he attempted to disentangle his fingers from my hair. “Sorry.”

He looked punch drunk and horny. Poor guy. Or rather—poor me.

F
uck
. Aurora smelled nice and her skin was flushed and warm. She had a little catch on the back of her neck that I wouldn’t be able to identify, because her hair hung well below her shoulders. But my guess would be a mole or beauty mark.

I wanted to lift up her curls right there in the bar and take a good look at her pale and soft skin. The shade was such a contrast to mine that I was drawn to how smooth and almost translucent it seemed in this dim bar lighting.

Sure, I was horny as fuck. But this was a girl I simply wanted to be near. To get to know, to admire, to lay bare my soul. Not just screw and part ways with.

Or maybe the no-sex rule was getting to my brain.

Her eyes were shiny and unfocused, like she was a bit turned on, as well. Or maybe I just hoped she was attracted to me. But why would I want that? To see if I still had it? Didn’t that blonde girl just show me that?

Now I simply felt pathetic about the person I’d turned into this past year. Because two seemingly important people in my life had shit on me.

“So, you asked me a question before we were interrupted,” I said, getting myself in the right frame of mind. I placed some distance between us by sliding my bar stool over several centimeters. Just friends, I reminded myself. The exact thing I needed.

“No, it’s okay,” she said, her nose wrinkling. “Forget I said anything.”

“I want to talk about it,” I replied, picking up my nearly forgotten beer. “I had a serious girlfriend for a couple of years. Thought maybe I wanted to marry her.”

Her face took on this faraway look as if attempting to picture it. She hadn’t really known me then. And she didn’t really know me now, but something about her made me seriously consider that possibility. So much so that I was about to spill it all. Well, at least some of it.

“What happened?” she asked, placing a fresh napkin under her drink.

I huffed out an exasperated breath. “She cheated on me.”

Her eyes widened and then she shook her head. “That’s terrible.”

“And not with just anybody,” I mumbled, not meeting her eyes as I said the stinging words. “With one of my oldest friends.”

Her hand came down over her mouth. “Oh, God.”

“Yeah,” I said, biting my lip so that I didn’t spew off any obscenities. “And they’re still together.”

Some dude nudged his way around me right then to reach the bowl of pretzels, allowing me a momentary breather.

She adjusted herself in her seat and turned back to me, her knee brushing against mine. It was such a comfort in the middle of spilling my guts that I didn’t even consider inching away. “How long has it been?”

I pretended to count the days, but of course I knew exactly how many had already gone by. “About a year.”

Her eyebrows arched upward. “Are you guys still friends?”

“Hell no. Bro code and all,” I muttered and was certain that she’d be able to identify the genuine hurt in my eyes. “But Mikey said he couldn’t stop it. That they were meant to be.”

“Then she should’ve broken it off first,” Aurora said, shaking her head.

Aurora seemed like such a levelheaded girl. But if that were the case, why was she working through her own relationship issues? Except, we were talking about cheating in this instance and I had this solid feeling in my gut that she would never do that. If I was being honest with myself, I never had that same secure feeling with my ex.

“That might’ve stung way less,” I said, wiping the condensation around my glass. “Still, he was my best friend, and they were messing around behind my back.”

“God, I can’t even imagine,” she said, placing a warm hand on my wrist. “Must’ve wrecked you.”

“For sure.” I sighed, my chest not clenching quite as tightly as it used to when I thought about their betrayal.

Right then a different bartender walked up, the guy who had been working the other end of the bar. He lifted his chin at me. “Haven’t seen you here in a hot minute. Used to be a couple of times a week.”

I nearly cringed but kept my composure as my knuckles tapped out an imaginary tune on the bar top.

“Got busy,” I said, shrugging.

“Bet you did,” he said with a smirk and then turned to look at Aurora with a wide grin. Christ, what a way to make a guy feel like a loser. “What can I get you?”

Aurora was practically gaping, obviously surprised by the interaction. She ordered a second round and after the bartender turned to pour our drinks, she lifted an eyebrow at me.

“Guess you can say I kind of went off the deep end,” I muttered.

The hand that had been resting close to my wrist skirted to her lap, something I noticed she did when anxious or embarrassed.
Shit.
“How so?”

“I guess I just said,
fuck it
.” I rolled my eyes at my own sloppy and careless behavior. “Drinking and going out practically every night. Screwing around just to get the idea of those two together out of my damn head.”

She turned her warm blue eyes on me before they slid down to my glass of beer. “Did it work?”

She must’ve wondered if I was still going on benders elsewhere. If any other bartenders would recognize me around town. I’m sure they did, but definitely not recently.

“Sometimes it did. For a night or so,” I said, remembering lying awake some bitter nights. But eventually the hurt lessened by varying degrees. “I mean, nobody kept my interest for too long. I was too out of my head to give anybody a decent shot anyway.”

She cringed, and I felt like crap she saw me that way. Maybe baring my soul wasn’t such a smart idea after all.

“I know it’s terrible and it feels way wrong.” I rushed my fingers through my hair. “But I did it and I guess that makes me an ass.”

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting sex. Just sex. Or so I’ve heard,” she said in a self-effacing tone. “But this sounds like something different.”

I rubbed my forehead like there was an ache there I couldn’t quite shake. “I was definitely working through tons of crap in my head.”

“So,” she mumbled, possibly realizing how delicate a topic this was for new friends. “What made you rethink things?”

Now I cowered as she waited on me, sipping her drink as she stared at the basketball game above the bartender’s head. I took more swallows of my beer, wondering why I started this whole thing. She had been willing to drop it, after all.

“A few months ago…” I straightened in my seat. “My position got deleted. Which unfortunately happens all the time in our district.”

“Wow, when it rains it pours,” she said, making this fluttering motion with her fingers.

“I had a one-night stand with this girl who was actually a friend of a friend,” I said, wincing. What a lousy idea it had been in hindsight. “She contacted me at my job. She was sure she was pregnant but had gotten two different readings on tests.”

“Whoa.” That was her only response, as she seemed to reflect on all of that, twisting her shredded bar napkin around.

“I waited through another test at the doctor’s office,” I continued. “I was ready though, to work through it with her. I figured it was happening for a reason.”

She knocked her knuckles on the wood, like maybe she approved of my decision.

“She hadn’t been with anybody else except you?” she asked, finally looking at me.

“Apparently not, which made me feel even more horrible,” I said, describing my final wake-up call. “But as it turned out, she wasn’t pregnant.”

She puffed out a breath, caught up in the emotions of the story.

“The guys gave me a good talking to,” I said, after draining my beer. “Told me I needed a break to get my shit back together.”

She threw me a small smile, maybe because she was totally on-board with them or possibly because our friends were so similar in many ways.

“I had already decided that for myself.” I sat back in my seat. “I promised that I wouldn’t consider sleeping with anybody again for at least six months.”

She played with the napkin on the bar top, shredding lines into the corners. “Sounds reasonable to me.”

There was an unanswered question there, hanging from her lips, as she stared at the foam leftover in my glass of beer. So I filled in the blanks for her. “Getting hammered every weekend wasn’t such a brilliant idea, either.”

Her eyes sprang up to mine. “But you still drink?”

“Not like that,” I said. Her shoulders only relaxed slightly, so I could tell she was still uncertain. At this point, I was ready for the life story portion of my night to come to an end. I felt like shit about it plenty on my own. I didn’t need to examine it any further.

I blew out a giant breath. “Okay, your turn.”

“God, I don’t know,” she said, laughing. “It’s pretty boring after all of that.”

She was fidgeting, her fingers skirting along her collar, and it was cute.

“Tell me, anyway,” I said, stretching out my legs with the little room that I had in front of me. “Please.”

“I’ve just never been without a boyfriend. Like, ever.” Her hand fell to her lap. “It’s pretty pathetic, when you analyze the reasons behind it. And I’ve had practically an entire year to scrutinize my choices.”

My eyebrows rose to my hairline. “Never without a boyfriend?”

“Well, there
was
that one time when I was like, twelve,” she said in a deadpan tone, before her laughter floated over the din of the bar.

“I bet you got more jump roping accomplished on the playground due to being single that year,” I quipped.

“Jump rope?” she laughed and smacked her hand on her knee. “What era are you from?”

Suddenly, a woman finagled her way in the space between our stools to gain the bartender’s attention with her order. I grinned at Aurora behind the woman’s back and impulsively reached over to brush a stand of her hair over her shoulder.

The chuckle died on her lips as she watched me, her eyes softening.

“What are you doing?” she asked in a strained voice.

“I don’t know,” I said, suddenly embarrassed but unable to break eye contact for even one second, so trapped was I in her penetrating gaze. “Stray piece of hair. I love the fiery color, by the way.”

Damn, the way she blushed made her even prettier. Her mouth was shiny from her drink, but now as she swiped her tongue along her bottom lip, I considered how she would taste.

Her ruby mouth, her creamy skin, and that enticing pink tongue—tangy from the lime in her glass.

When she kept her eyes trained on mine, I wondered what she was thinking. Her brow wrinkled like she was unsure of me, and I supposed I could understand that after everything I’d shared. She probably wouldn’t dream of touching me with a ten-foot pole, and it was just as well until I got my head screwed back on straight.

Besides, it felt nice to simply be with somebody without any pretense or expectations. To actually get to know somebody purely for the sake of friendship.

“So, where were we?” Aurora asked, after the woman paid for her drink and created an empty space between us again. I had the urge to close the gap immediately.

“Let’s see…you were twelve years old, jump-roping your way through middle school, picking up boyfriends along the way,” I said, twirling my finger to get us back on track. “Continue.”

“I don’t know what happens,” she said in a sigh. “I just…I always seem to find myself in a relationship. With guys who want constant companionship or something, I guess. Maybe there’s an invisible homing device in my brain.”

My fingers swiped her bangs away as if searching for the offending mark. I had no idea why I continued to seek out new ways to touch her. “You definitely have
girlfriend material
stamped on your head.”

She swatted my hand way. “Ugh, what I said sounded so stupid and shallow. There’s more to it than that.”

“It sounded fine. Honest,” I said. “You’re just trying to figure it all out.”

“I guess it was nice not to be on my own. To have something to take my mind off things, to always fill up the silence.” She lifted her drink and sipped. “I felt alone a lot, you know?”

I
didn’t
know, but when she looked past me to the crowded tables, I could tell she didn’t want to talk about it. That we had rehashed plenty. Though now I was more than curious about her family and why she felt so lonesome.

“Good Lord,” she said. “This Chastity Club is not for the faint of heart.”

“Hey,” I said, squeezing her hand, which had now turned into a fist in her lap. “Do you remember my admission just a few minutes ago? You’ve got nothing on me.”

When the bartender approached again, I asked for a glass of water. I could feel her gaze on me but didn’t turn in her direction. I didn’t want her to think I was trying to prove something because I wasn’t, right?

“None of those guys were right for me, I knew it deep down,” she said, stewing over her own confession. “Thank God by some saving grace I never got married and divorced.”

“For sure.” Thank God for that negative pregnancy test, as well. It was definitely an ample wake-up call for me.

“So my friends were like,
enough,
” she said, cutting a hand across her throat. “You need to face up to yourself. Why not take the next year to be alone and figure things out?”

I sipped at my water realizing I had practically drunk half of it, engrossed in her story. “And?”

“It’s been really eye opening. I feel like I’ve actually found myself. Cliché,” she huffed out. “What can I say? I like to go home, throw on my comfy cozies, and click to any channel I want.”

“Imagine that.” I feigned shock, my hand to my chest. “So your friends threatened bodily harm if you have a relationship or sex?”

“Well, no. They don’t think I can
only
have sex. They think all my relationships have been tied to having sex too soon. They might be right,” she said. “But God, I’d like to try a hookup. Just once. How liberating does it feel to just walk away after a night with somebody?”

Something tightened in my gut, and I struggled to get the words out.

“It does if you can separate it out,” I said, feeling strange giving her pointers. “Like hey, I’m just here to get my physical needs met, nothing more, nothing less. Purely a corporeal sensation.”