Page 2 of Never Gonna Lie (Forbidden #2)

Chapter Two

RAVEN

ONE YEAR AGO

T urning nineteen today wasn’t something I was looking forward to.

Not for any particular reason other than the party that my dad and stepmom, Emma, insist on throwing every year, is boring as hell.

It wouldn’t be so bad if my friends were there—if I had any other than Mia, that is—but it ends up turning into a networking session for them both.

I get it, he has to show off to investors and to the people that work for him, I just wish my birthday wasn’t used to do it.

Heading to the kitchen in search of coffee, I sidestep around caterers, party planners, and men setting up for tonight’s ‘soirée.’ The noise rings in my ears as shouts from various workmen grate on my nerves.

Luckily, the kitchen is the one room in the house that doesn’t appear to have people floating around everywhere, so I get a moment’s reprieve.

Have I said how much I’m really not looking forward to today?

I sigh, remembering Mia will be here soon to give me the support I know I’m going to need. The constant dodging of old men who try and butter me up to get to my dad is creepy and exhausting. I’d love to say it hasn’t happened before, but it has… multiple times.

“Oh, there you are,” my stepmom says as she comes waltzing into the kitchen, not a hair out of place. “Darling, don’t you think you could have put some clothes on?” Emma wrinkles her nose and kisses my cheek as she goes to the coffee machine.

I adore my stepmom. For a woman in her late 50s, she looks incredible.

Emma’s never been one for Botox injections or face-lifts, preferring to grow old gracefully, and I love that about her.

She’s slim with long blonde hair that’s started to go gray at the roots, but as she says, “I’m growing old disgracefully and I refuse to apologize for it.

” She’s just come from the home gym if her workout clothes are any indication, but she still looks as if she’s just walked off a model runway.

Looking down at my clothes, I frown. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing, Em?” The pink T-shirt and shorts I wear to bed are decent… I think.

She waves a hand in the air as she takes a sip of her coffee. “There are people in the house. Do you think you could put a little more on?” She gives me a pointed look, her perfectly plucked eyebrows raising slightly, and I sigh.

“Fine. Can I grab a coffee to go, pretty please?”

Emma smiles as she fills a cup with freshly brewed coffee, and hands it to me. “Go, get ready. We have a big day ahead.”

I hum in acknowledgement and make my way back through the madhouse that has become my home.

After drinking my coffee, showering, and changing into something that Emma found more appropriate, I grab my jumper and make my way down to the dock at the bottom of the yard.

I’m home for the summer—being an August baby has its perks—so the air’s still blissfully warm on my face as I sit on the dock, dipping my toes into the water. Sunlight streams through the tree branches as birds twitter and fly around.

I gaze out across the expanse of water—well, it’s more of a lake than anything—and think about my last year of school. I’ve worked my ass off for the last two and a bit years to get my Doctor of Physical Therapy when I graduate, yet it still feels like something's missing.

Sighing, I lay down, gazing up at the sky, trying to make shapes out of the clouds above. A shadow descends over me, and I glance to the side, staring into a pair of bright blue eyes that always make me catch my breath—James.

Jumping up, I practically throw myself into his arms, exclaiming, “James. What are you doing here?”

He chuckles, hugging me tightly. “I came to see the birthday girl, of course.”

Drawing back, my heart flips in my chest— god, he’s gorgeous .

James brushes a stray lock of dark hair out of his face, running a hand down the shaved sides and giving me one of his kilowatt smiles.

His blue eyes always seem to sparkle, like he knows a secret that we don’t.

His full, kissable lips lead into a strong jawline that I just want to rub my hand across.

His polo shirt hugs every muscle he has, and he has a lot , the seams screaming as his arms bulge against them.

I challenge anyone to tell me there’s anything hotter than a man covered in tattoos. Especially one as hot as James. The intricate swirls and patterns take up the entirety of both his arms, neck and hands has me swooning each time I see them.

With flushed cheeks, I untangle myself from him and sit on the dock, my feet dangling in the water again. James follows, lowering himself down to sit next to me.

“You looking forward to tonight?” he asks as he nudges my shoulder with his, amusement dancing around his eyes.

I roll my eyes as I lean back on my hands, looking out across the water. “You know as well as I do, pretty boy, that these parties are just a way for my dad to network and nothing to do with my actual birthday.”

“Pretty boy?”

I turn my head slightly. His eyebrow arches as a small smile plays on the edges of his luscious pink lips.

Gazing up at him, I shrug my shoulders. “Yeah, the pretty boy to my pretty girl.”

He chuckles. “Cute.”

My stomach bottoms out. Cute ? I would’ve preferred something a little bit better than cute . Beautiful, sexy, gorgeous even, but it’s just a stark reminder of my unrequited love.

James brings his knee up, resting his arm across it, and I can’t help but glance at the way his veins pop. I swallow, quickly averting my gaze, hoping he didn’t notice.

“Come on, pretty girl. Let’s get you back inside. I’ll see if I can swipe you some liquor.” He winks .

James stands up and holds his hand out to me. When my palm slides into his a tingle, almost like static, runs through me and I gasp quietly.

His hand feels warm and steady closed around mine as he hauls me up.

As I stand, I lose my footing slightly and tumble into him with an “ Oomph .” My hands rest on his chest, and I peer up at him through my eyelashes.

My breathing picks up at his closeness, his leather and smoke smell teasing my senses.

“Careful, pretty girl,” he says, his arms sliding around me to keep me steady. “I have a habit of making girls fall for me.”

Don’t I know it .

His gaze pierces me, almost like he’s seeing me in a different light, but that’s just wishful thinking, right?

“Bigheaded much?” I tease, my hands still firmly on his chest, neither one of us moving.

His eyes twinkle as he replies, “Not bigheaded, just stating facts.”

“Your level of conceitedness is showing, pretty boy,” I laugh, my body moving on its own accord and closing any bit of space between us. I’m as close as I can be without jumping into his arms, but it still isn’t close enough.

James chuckles softly, his gaze boring into mine as his hands squeeze my hips gently. “I can’t help that I have a certain way with women.” He shrugs, but the grin that’s plastered across his face says he’s not sorry at all.

I let out a soft chuckle of my own and push away from him, trailing my hand across his chest as I brush past. “Come on, someone said something about swiping me some booze.”

We stroll back to the house in a comfortable silence, the only sounds to be heard are the soft rustling of leaves and the faint echo of laughter from the house.

James’s hand occasionally grazes mine in what feels like a forbidden touch, and I wonder if tonight will finally be the night I get my wish.