“I’ve only met one person who doesn’t pretend to be someone they’re not.”
“Who?”
Butterflies swarm in my belly when his lips twitch and those intense green eyes zero in on me.
“My favorite Bible Thumper.”
I’m torn between wanting to smack him and wanting to smile because I’m his favorite anything.
“Asshole.”
He grins and heaven help me, because I’m so screwed.
I used to roll my eyes at girls who claimed they couldn’t control themselves in the presence of cute guys and therefore made dumb decisions.
Turns out karma isn’t always a bitch. Sometimes she’s a devastatingly good-looking quarterback with cheekbones so sharp they’d cut glass, green eyes so piercing you seriously wonder if he’s part wolf, and a lean, muscular body that makes me…
Get a damn grip, Sawyer.
“I am an asshole.” Shifting, Cole turns his body toward mine. “And if you’re half as smart as I think you are, you’d get off this bed and walk away.”
My antagonist’s threats don’t scare me. “Why would I do that?”
His gaze darkens. “Because your precious God might end up revoking your ticket to Heaven if you stay here any longer.”
Oh. Well, then.
My mouth goes dry and my palms begin to sweat…until I remember.
Cole might be drunk and having a rough night…but he also has a girlfriend.
Someone has to put the brakes on whatever this is before he does something he’ll regret.
“I don’t think Casey—you know, your girlfriend—would like that.”
He breaks eye contact. “I don’t think she’ll care.”
Yeah, he’s more intoxicated than I thought. “Of course, sh—”
“I’m pretty sure she’s cheating on me.”
Casey is the last person in the world I want to defend, but I pride myself on giving good advice.
“Don’t you think you should talk to her about it and ask her, instead of assum—”
“Nah.” His laughter is bitter. “I don’t give a shit who she spreads her legs for on the down-low.”
“Oh.”
That’s a whole different issue entirely then.
“Everybody cheats.” I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs. “Everyone lies.” Another bitter laugh breaks free. “Even my dad cheated on my mom, and he used to look at her like she was his whole goddamn world.”
His jaw works. “He dragged her away from India—away from her career and family—because he was selfish and couldn’t bear the thought of being without her. Then the bastard cheated…and now she’s worm food while he’s still living and breathing. Still fucking whores named Nadia who look like his dead wife and still ignoring his children.” His nostrils flare on an indrawn breath. “It’s not fair.”
Wow. “I—”
“Don’t. Don’t defend what he did or tell me everyone makes mistakes. Let him wallow in his guilt. He deserves to.” Turmoil splashes across his features and his voice drops to a whisper. “We both do.”
My heart folds in on itself. It’s not Cole’s fault his mom died.
It’s not his father’s either—even if he did betray his wife—but I’m not touching that with a ten-foot pole.
“Hey.” Placing my palm against his cheek, I wait for him to look at me. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Casting his gaze down, he leans into my touch. “Say it again.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” I repeat with even more conviction.
Breath frazzled, he searches my face. “Bible Thumper?”
Despite the nickname, I respond. “Yeah?”
The agony swirling in his eyes is unmistakable. “How come lies are so beautiful and the truth is always so fucking ugly?”
Jesus. Before tonight, I’d never peg Cole as introspective. However, it turns out that gnawing feeling I’ve always had about him being more than surface level, was dead on.
Mulling over his question, I tell him the only thing that makes sense to me. “Lies are easier to believe because they usually protect someone or conceal something bad.” Chewing on my bottom lip, I add. “Or, maybe it’s because there is no truth…definitively anyway. We all have our own truth…and whatever version aligns best with that is what we gravitate toward and believe…even if it’s a lie. I guess in the end it comes down to selfishness.”
I give my head a small shake when I realize how long winded and confusing my response probably was. “Sorry, I didn’t really answer your question.”
His expression is somber. “No, you did.” He runs his thumb over my knuckle. “Tell me something about you I didn’t know before tonight.” His chiseled face turns serious. “Something real…something that hurts.”
That’s…random and a bit fucked-up.
Then again, drunk people don’t tend to make a lot of sense.
“I don’t know. I’m not sure there’s any—”
“Yes, there is.”
He’s right, there are some private, hurtful things I keep to myself and don’t share with others…but I suppose there’s no harm in telling him, given he’s so drunk he’ll probably forget.
“My parents have slept in separate bedrooms for the last two years and they barely even talk to each other anymore.” Unless I’m in the room, then they go through me. “But they refuse to divorce.”
I wait for a twinge of something, but it doesn’t come. It’s been going on so long I’ve pretty much become complacent about the whole thing.
Or maybe I’m just numb now?
“Why?”
Nope, that’s not something I’m willing to tell him. He already makes fun of my faith every chance he gets. This will just give him more fodder.
“None of your business.”
It’s clear he doesn’t like that response, but he doesn’t push. “Cole isn’t my real name.”
Yeah, I did not see that coming.
“It’s not?”
He shakes his head. “Not technically.”
The suspense is killing me. “What’s your real name?”
“Why won’t your parents get divorced?”
Even drunk, he’s a jerk. I’m pretty sure he can figure it out, he just wants me to say it.
I’ve met atheists before, and most are respectful of those who believe…but not Cole.
It’s like he’s holding a personal grudge against God and uses any excuse to ridicule his existence.
“Your birthday isn’t in November,” I point out, changing the subject. “Last year Christian threw a birthday party for you in November.”
He shrugs. “So?”
It’s August. “You lied.”
He smirks. “Like I said before…everyone lies.”
That doesn’t sit well with me…especially since he asked me to tell him something real.
That said, it would make me a hypocrite to chastise him, when I’m intentionally sidestepping his question. Here goes nothing.
“My uncle and grandfather are ministers. My mom is their secretary and runs the books at their church. We grew up in a...” Closing my eyes, I cut straight to the point. Me growing up in a small southern town isn’t relevant. “Divorce is frowned upon.”