Forgiving Lies
Page 20

 Molly McAdams

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Oh. Wow. If he hadn’t already bothered me so much, I’d have wanted to make him my new best friend. Or maybe that was the tequila already hitting my completely empty stomach. He cocked an eyebrow and I decided it was definitely the tequila talking.
When he sat back, I turned to look at the table and busied myself by eating chips and salsa, and the next time the waiter passed us, Kash ordered me another margarita. He and I didn’t say anything to each other or the flirting duo across from us until it was delivered to the table.
Pushing it toward me, he smiled softly and kept his eyes on the drink. “I’ll get us back to the complex. Just relax, and maybe try to enjoy this one, yeah?”
I laughed and his eyes flashed down to mine. Taking the drink, I took a sip and relaxed into the back of the booth. I didn’t understand this guy sitting next to me, and although I wanted to hate him, I found myself smiling as I thought about his no-bullshit attitude. I’d had a bad day and taken it out on a stranger—a gorgeous stranger, no less—and while I still felt embarrassed about the first and second impressions I was leaving, I couldn’t help but be intrigued by him.
But then thoughts of Blake crept back into my mind and I pushed down any feelings that may have started making themselves known about Kash as I scooted closer to the wall of the booth. Getting caught up in a guy was the last thing I needed right now.
4
Kash
“WHAT THE HELL are you thinking?”
“Uh . . . that she’s hot and I need to get laid?” Mason looked at me like I was missing something completely obvious.
“You really think it’s smart to get involved with someone while we’re in the middle of an assignment?”
He sighed heavily and dropped to the floor, leaning up against one of the walls. “You can’t tell me this assignment isn’t completely different from anything we’ve done. The only reason we can’t tell our families where we are is because of the hit. But other than that, what we’re doing—it’s like we’re detectives.”
“Yeah, and we’re still undercover.”
“Whatever, Kash, you think detectives don’t have relationships? Don’t have families?”
I groaned and raked a hand through my hair. He wasn’t getting it. “Of course they have relationships and families. They’re allowed to have lives. This”—I motioned to our empty apartment—“isn’t our life. We aren’t here to start new lives, Mason. We’re here to find a serial killer and stay hidden. All the rest of this is just for show. The minute we forget that is the minute James Camden slips through our fingers and another girl ends up dead. Do you want that on you?”
“What the f**k, Kash? Of course I don’t! Jesus, it’s not like I want to marry her. And from what she was saying last night, Candice isn’t the type of girl to be tied to one guy at a time. I don’t have to worry about her being clingy or wanting a relationship. So back off and instead of putting this shit on me, maybe worry about the fact that you couldn’t take your eyes off Rachel all night.”
My gaze quickly darted to the window that gave me a perfect view of the girls’ apartment. “She’s hot, sue me. But I’m not thinking about letting her get in the way of what we’re here for.”
“Perfect.” He stood up and stretched before heading to the front door. “I’m not going to let Candice get in the way either. But since we don’t check in ’til Monday, you can be damn sure I’m using this weekend to my advantage. See ya.”
“Have you forgotten we have no furniture?”
“Ask Rachel to go with you to pick out some stuff. I’m sure she’d be happy to do it.” He wagged his eyebrows and I groaned.
Just as he turned the doorknob, I slapped my hand down on the door to keep it shut and spoke low. “What we do? The lives we live? There’s no room for family or relationships, Mason. How many voice mails has your mom already left sobbing?” Mason ground his jaw but stayed quiet. “We’ve only been gone two days and they’re already freaking out. Because even though we didn’t tell them, they know what’s going on, and they’re f**king terrified. You hate doing that to your parents and sister; would you really want to bring a girlfriend or wife into what we do? Leaving them without notice for months or years at a time while we live the way those drug dealers do. You really want that for someone else?”
With a hard shove, he narrowed his eyes at me. “No, I wouldn’t do that. And what’s about to happen in that apartment”—he pointed toward the door—“will never make it that far. Even if it did, I would get out of undercover if I was getting serious with someone. You can’t do this for the rest of your life, Kash. And like I said, I’m not the one you need to be worried about. The way you were looking at Rachel last night . . . I’ve never seen you look at a girl like that, not even Megan. So stop freakin’ preaching to me and focus on yourself.”
Megan and I had dated all throughout high school, through the first couple years of college, and when I went through the academy. When Mason and I got moved to undercover, I told her as much as I could, but it wasn’t enough for her. She was engaged to some guy she’d met in one of her classes by the time we finished our first assignment. Mason knew I’d planned to marry her, and having Megan leave me put everything in perspective for me. I was happy for her now; she deserved someone who she could count on to be home for dinner, and I wasn’t that guy.