Page 9 of The Lies Always Told (Baker Oaks #4)

She turns to look at me and smiles giddily. “Abraham.”

What the hell? “Gus’ friend Abraham?”

“Yup. He might come over tonight.”

“To a frat party? Bee, he’s a grown man.”

“And we’re grown women.”

I laugh. “No, we’re not. We literally just finished college today. He has been adulting for years now.” I watch her, hoping she can explain more.

“You are a twenty-one-year-old genius child who just finished a master’s degree, and I’m your friend, so adult by association. He can come… Maybe he’ll bring Gus’ handsome face over, and you can stop acting like the world ended a month ago.”

“I have not.”

“You have too, and you didn’t even fuck him.” She cocks an eyebrow my way. I don’t need to have sex with the man to know it would be good. I’ve never felt sexier. I’ve never felt more desired, and he didn’t even undress me.

“I don’t kiss and tell…but if I did, I would tell you I felt more from that kiss than I got from many of the men in my bed.”

“Then what the hell, Nells? Call him.”

“I didn’t even know you were talking to Abraham.” I change the topic, because I don’t want to tell her I didn’t get his number. I don’t want to tell her that tonight is the first time he’s texted. I don’t want to sound as pathetic as I feel.

“We text, but I’m dying to have his hands all over me. Nothing happened for me either. He did say he was in town just for tonight, and he wanted to find out if it would be as good as he imagined. He’s leaving the country tomorrow to celebrate his birthday for a few days. How fun is that?”

“Super…” I wait in silence to see if she’ll add anything el se. I contemplate telling her about Gus’s message but opt to ignore it altogether. “Okay, I’m going to get dressed.”

“Don’t take too long!” she shouts before returning her attention to her phone. I check mine too and see another message from Gus.

Me:

Probably going to bed.

G:

No getting in trouble tonight?

Me:

Me? Never. I’m a good girl.

G:

You and I both know that’s not true, but both can be right. You can be a good girl and get in trouble, or am I wrong?

I shake my head and smile to myself, ignoring how giddy his text messages made me feel. I set my phone down and give myself ten minutes to get dressed so I can live my college days for one more night.

“Just Nellie, what are you going to do with all that brain inside that head?” Elijah jokes, wrapping his arm around my shoulder after finding me in the only semi-quiet spot in the frat house almost as soon as I walked in.

“Put it to good work helping?—”

“One misunderstood child at a time,” he interrupts and says the exact words I was going to say.

Elijah is one of the first friends I made here.

I’m sure I looked as lost as I felt walking through the sea of students, looking as fresh as they come but going to the graduate studies building.

He asked me if I needed help, but when I showed him my schedule, he couldn’t believe it.

“You look fourteen,” he said, his eyes darting from the schedule to my face. His ringlets bounced over his eyes, so I brushed half of them away from his face.

“And you would look a lot better with the hair out of your face. I can’t do anything about having good genes and looking young, but you’re doing this to yourself.” I snatched the paper from his hands and walked in the opposite direction.

“Wait! We started off on the wrong foot. My name is Elijah, not Eli. Just Elijah. Nice to meet you, Cornelia.” He extended his hand, allowing me time to do the same and shake it.

When he noticed my look of concern, he figured it was because he called me by name, a name I didn’t share with him. “It’s on your schedule.”

“It’s just Nellie, Just Elijah .”

“Nice to meet you, Just Nellie . I have to go to class, but we need to hang out so you can tell me the whole story of how you’re going to class in that building.”

Elijah was one of the first people in my life who didn’t treat me any differently because of my age or questioned why I would choose to live on campus when I could have a condo.

He treats me the way I’ve always wanted to be treated: normal.

He’s also one of the only people who touches me and doesn’t expect me to date or fuck him.

His love language is physical touch, so his hands are always on the people he loves.

I just happen to be one of them, and it’s much welcomed.

I crave touch, and he gives it, even if it’s not sexual.

“Where’s Sam?”

“Oh, you know, being a social butterfly, as usual.” Sam is Elijah’s partner, and it has been my biggest pleasure watching them fall in love.

They’re perfect for each other, the true definition of love at first sight.

My phone buzzes in my purse a few times, but I ignore it.

Nobody should be bothering me right now .

“Nellie who keeps blowing up your phone?” Elijah asks, eyebrow raised, curious to see what’s going on.

“I’m actually not sure.”

“Are you hiding away from reality again?” he asks, referring to the hundreds of times I completely ignored my family calling to check on me.

Being the youngest of two and a wild card, as my sister calls me, sometimes makes them feel they need to know where I am at all times.

The tight leash they’ve had around my neck for years follows me even when I’m hundreds of miles away.

Sometimes, silence is my most powerful tool.

He’s right, though; I am trying to hide, but from who?

My sister, after I told her I wouldn’t go out?

The guy I slept with two months ago, who won’t take the hint?

That’s debatable. “Maybe…” I reply as I get my phone out and check to see who needs to talk to me so badly.

Although secretly, I’ve been hoping for it to be Gus, I’m still surprised when I see the thread of messages.

G:

I thought you were going to stay home, but I see you’re causing trouble.

G:

Huh, I didn’t strike blond surfer dudes as your type, but then again, what would I know?

What the hell? Lifting my eyes, I search for him. It shouldn’t take me long to find him, considering how out of place he would look at this party. While this place is full of people of all races, ethnicity, and social statuses, it’s also full of boys, and Gus is anything but.

My eyes roam the place, and I don’t think I’ll find him until…

I don’t know how I missed him. He’s sitting in the back of the room, wearing black denim and a navy-collared shirt.

His skin looks smooth and dark in this light.

His eyes— in tense—bore into mine. I didn’t see him before, but now, all I see is him.

“ Shit, who’s that?” Elijah asks with curiosity in his voice, but I can’t take my eyes away from Gus, not even for one second, to see his expression.

“Nobody,” I reply, and I really should just laugh at how stupid that sounds.

“ That is not how nobody looks at somebody. That is how a man looks at a snack. A snack he’s been craving, Nellie. The question is, when did he get the first taste?” His eyes get obnoxiously big, and he smirks like a know-it-all.

I walk toward Gus, letting his eyes pull me straight to him, ignoring Elijah and everyone around me.

The chaos, the crowd, the music, the scents—everything disappears while I stride my way to him.

This pull, this feeling urging me to him…

there’s no way to describe it other than his soul calling to mine.

It goes beyond what I should be doing or feeling right now. I fear this is inevitable.

“Gus,” I greet him.

“Hey, Trouble.” He smiles, and my skin tingles. He keeps his composure while I fight with everything I have not to lose mine and climb him like a tree right here.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest and seizing the ounce of self-control I have.

“I could ask you the same. Just shy of two hours ago, you said you were going to sleep. Did you sleep walk here?”

“I don’t owe you explanations,” I reply with more bite than I intended. I hate being micromanaged, and I hate surprises too. This feels like both.

“Woah, woah, I didn’t mean it like that. I was just surprised you lied to me, Nellie.” He raises his hands, palms up, and his smile softens. His shoulders relax, and his eyes go from intense to warm in just one interaction.

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you sorry you lied, or are you sorry you got caught?” he asks as he stands, towering over me and engulfing me in his spicy, leathery scent.

Both? Neither?

I bite my lip and hold back my reply, waiting out to see if he answers the first question I asked him. How did he know I was here, and why is he here? Then, it hits me: Abraham .

“I’m sorry I lied. I’m not usually like that, but in my defense, I wasn’t planning on going out. It was all Bee’s idea.”

“Ah, the little devil to your angel, huh?”

“Nah, Victoria is the angel. I’m more like in between.”

“Un arcangel? 1 ,” he says, or I think he does, but I’m not very fluent in Spanish. Maybe I misheard.

“More like your worst nightmare.” I step closer to him, his body radiating intense heat.

He notices the tentative step I take and grabs my hand, pulling me to him, and taking us both back down to the couch. I land on his lap, and his hand immediately goes up to my neck. My breath hitches, and I gasp when his lips hover over mine, whispering, “Then I can’t wait to fall asleep.”

He closes the space between us, raking his hand up my back, grabbing my ponytail and tilting my head back as he kisses me fearlessly, leaving me breathy and unraveled.

1 ? An archangel