Page 101 of Once Upon a Lie

I scramble to make sense of it all, but all I manage to do is make my brain feel like scrambled eggs. I groan.

“Shane, I don’t like the way tonight made me feel. You seem so distant the past few days . . . and then the interaction with your friends?” I shake my head. “It didn’t line up with the version of things I had in my head. And you know the Karaoke Cowboy? Why in the hell wouldn’t you say something when I was blathering on about him? That’s maybe the weirdest lie of it all.”

“I don’t know. I really don’t. I’m sorry, Teen.” He sighs. “I wish I could explain what the hell’s gotten into me tonight.”

He’s oversimplifying it, and he knows it. I want to be angry, but I’m stuck with sad. Confused. Disappointed.

“Is everything with us okay?” I ask, studying the tension in his jaw. In all the time we’ve spent together, I’ve never seen him look this upset, and if I did something to cause it, I’d like to know. “I mean, did I do or say something?”

I’m not the type who’s comfortable with upsetting other people, and I try my hardest to live my life in a way that I don’t. I focus on positivity and uplifting and try to help people when I can.

I know we taunt and tease from time to time, but I can’t stand the thought that I’ve said or done something that’s upset him this much. Which is fucking ridiculous. I should be the one who’s upset.

“Yeah,” he says, still sounding like his mind is miles and miles away. “I’m just tired.”

The elevator dings, and the doors open for us to step off onto my floor, and he follows me until I stop in front of my place. I put my hand to the knob briefly before turning back to him, my face both crumbling and earnest.

“I . . . Shane, I don’t know what happened with the police force or . . . why you haven’t been talking to your friends, and maybe it’s not my business. But after tonight . . . I’m realizing there’s more there.” I search his eyes. “And if you wanted to talk about it, I could just listen.”

“I can’t . . . I mean, I don’t want to talk about it.”

I nod and lick my lips, trying to quell the sting of his words. Of all the things that have transpired tonight, they’re the worst of it all. “I see.”

“I’m sorry. I am. But . . . there are things about my life I’m not ready to share yet. To psychoanalyze. To . . . reflect on. I’m still . . . working through them.”

“I could help—”

He shakes his head on a deep exhale. “You can’t.”

“Okay, then.”

Rejected again. His jaw is hard, and my heart is working toward finding a way to match.

He leans forward to touch his lips to mine, but I back up and turn toward my door to unlock it. For a woman who started the night hell bent on getting laid again, it’s a big switch up.

But I’m not the first to change directions. Shane is closed down and gruff, and quite frankly, I’m not sure what the hell he wants between us if he’s unwilling to share even the smallest details of his life with me. My actions are purely reactionary.

“Teeny, I’m sorry.”

“No, Shane, it’s fine. I’m not going to force you to share your life with me, and it’s okay if you’re tired. I’m tired, too, you know?”

He sighs and curses before spinning me around and pulling me into his arms.

My eyes are wide and my body tensed, but his whole face glows with need and determination.

His lips find mine, his tongue diving through the seam and finding my tongue, and even with the way things are between us, I melt into him, giving my all to the kiss. His fingers wind through my hair and I moan so loud my mouth opens as he pushes me against my door.

This is the kiss of a man who’s interested—not the Shane of tonight or Mr. Miller from Ohio. This is the guy who’s spent the last several weeks building something real with me.

I don’t understand where he went or why he’s just showing up now, but I missed him so much I refuse to let myself care.

I’m breathing heavily by the time he pulls away, expecting a plea to come inside, but his eyes are troubled. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting tonight and for avoiding your questions. I am. I care about you. I just need a little time to get my head straight. To . . . figure out how to handle it all. Can you give me a little bit of time, Valentina?”

My nod is shaky as I try to make sense of it all without any of the actual information. “I’ll try, Shane.”

His lips touch mine again, just one gentle peck. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

“You don’t want to come in?” I ask hesitantly.