Page 22 of Little Liar

Breaths growing heavy, I grind my teeth and stare at the flames.

Dad says something, and Mom laughs, but Olivia just hugs herself with one arm and continues to toast her marshmallow.

Mason told me last night that sometimes, I scare him, because when I focus on something in the room, my eyes don’t leave it, even when he’s trying to talk to me. Apparently my eyes go void, and I look like I want to be anywhere but there. Is that what my parents see whenever I’m around them? Void—and scary?

Olivia hasn’t ever mentioned being afraid of me. She seeks me out more than anything, but Mom hates being alone with me, and Dad avoids me at all costs.

They raised me, but they don’t love me.

I only care a little, so I internally shake my head and look at Olivia, and not the two older adults bickering over Olivia potentially burning her fingers on the stick. Her bottom lip is trapped between her teeth, a smile peeking through while she unravels herself and pulls the sugary goodness from the stick and sniffs it.

Her eyes flicker to me, and I dodge back when she tries to put the marshmallow to my mouth. I capture her wrist, and she giggles as I knock it out of her hand, dropping it on the dirt surrounding us.

“Asshole,” she mouths, giggling again as I find the biggest marshmallow and stab it with the stick before handing it back to her.

Smiling while she quietly laughs, she looks like she’s blushing.

Hmm.

I could listen to her laugh forever, but there’s something else I want to hear. For me. Caused by me. All for me.

Olivia moaning my name while she’s over me, dropping her sweet little ass down on my cock, telling me it’s too much even though she keeps going regardless until she comes—

“Who wants to take a walk?” Dad calls out, interrupting my thoughts.

Mom raises her hand. Olivia doesn’t.

So I don’t either.

“Come on,” Dad says. “I think we can get a better view of the stars near the cliff. Are you coming, kids?”

I shake my head, very aware that my sister is doing the same. My blood is rushing so fast in my veins, fucking burning, and if Idon’t light a smoke within the next minute, I might throw myself in the fire.

Thankfully, my parents fuck off, and as soon as they’re gone, I pull my cigarettes out and light one, enjoying the way the toxicity burns inside my lungs.

My eyes close as I take another draw, and I open them again to see Olivia staring at me.

You aren’t allowed one, so don’t ask.

She scoffs. “I don’t want one. Smoking is bad for you.”

No idea what she says next because I feel like my soul is slowly connecting with hers—a connection that, I fear, may kill me one day. Her lips are moving, and I want to taste them. I silently laugh because the world certainly hates me. Why, out of the entire universe, do I end up adopted into the same family as the girl I’m madly in love with?

I can’t ever have her. Not really.

Now I’m mad. Who the fuck is anyone to say what I can and can’t have?

Tossing the smoke, I stand, grabbing Olivia’s hand and pulling her with me towards the tent. The same one we’re sharing, all night, just the two of us.

Once I throw her in, there’s no counting to three in my head or stopping to think about what I plan to do. I zip the tent back up, slip the padlock on, and then turn to her while she tries to figure out what the fuck is going on. “Jesus, Malachi,” she hisses. “Do you need to be so damn rough?”

Yes. You never listen, stubborn ass.

Despite being thrown around, she doesn’t look afraid of me. Good. It’ll make it easier for me to do what I want her to do. She’s given me more than enough signs that she wants me.

She says something, but I’m trying to figure out how exactly I start this off. Do I just kiss her? Pin her down, rip her clothes off, and do what I want with her? Do I ask her how she feels aboutme and if she wants to be a secret behind our parents’ backs until we’re comfortable to come forward about our relationship?

Do I ask her if she wants to see my dick, since she’s so engrossed in touching it while I’m asleep?