Forgiving Lies
Page 35

“Rach,” I snorted, “it’s seven in the morning and you left my place at nine last night. Why had you just gone to sleep?”
She didn’t answer and stopped wiggling against me. She just hung there, limp.
“What—no more threats? No more whining?”
Silence.
“Woman, I swear to God, if you fell asleep on my damn shoulder . . .” I trailed off when I heard her mumble something. “What’d you say?”
“I was afraid to fall back asleep,” she whispered, and my eyes clenched shut.
“Ah, Rach.” I slid her awkwardly down my body until she was standing in front of me. I tried to block the water that was directed at her, but little droplets were bouncing off my bare shoulders and hitting her face. She blinked rapidly against them before dropping her head. “Why didn’t you call me or something?”
She huffed and shook her head. “What for, Kash? To make you sit there with me in sweats longer? So you could act like what happened yesterday morning didn’t? I don’t need you to babysit me when I’m being ridiculous.”
“That’s not ridiculous.” With a heavy sigh, I turned off the water and leaned toward the towel rack to grab a towel and wrap it around her. “Get some dry clothes on, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Once I helped her out of the tub and wrung out my soaked shorts as much as possible, I grabbed my shoes and headed for my apartment.
Rachel had stayed with Mase and me all day yesterday. Once Candice was home from cheer camp, she came over and questioned our wardrobe for a moment but dropped it soon after. Mason took her to pick up food for everyone and I’d hoped to question Rachel some more, but she was finally giving real smiles and I couldn’t stomach upsetting her again at that point. After tossing and turning for hours last night, I’d come to the conclusion that I was going to make sure she was never alone, and I was going to find out exactly what had gone down between her and Professor Sickfuck.
Walking back over to the girls’ apartment, I let myself in and was met with a pissed-off Rachel. My favorite kind. I smiled lazily at her and looked at the timer on the microwave I’d set before waking the monster.
“Why are there cinnamon rolls baking in my oven?”
“Because you have a sweet tooth and I figured you’d be pissed at me for waking you up. It was the least I could do.”
She raised a brow and crossed her arms. “And how did you get in here this morning?”
I picked the lock like I always do. “Candice left it unlocked for me.”
“Whatever,” Rachel mumbled on a sigh, and went to flop down on one of the couches. “So are you ever going to tell me why you woke me up so early?”
“After breakfast.” I went to pull the cinnamon rolls out of the oven and grabbed the icing packets. “Hey, Rach, why aren’t you working this summer?”
Her head snapped up. “Because I didn’t feel like getting a job. Why does it matter to you?”
“I was just wondering.” I shrugged. “Are your parents paying for your share of the apartment as well?”
“My—”
Her voice cut off so suddenly that I looked back over at her, to see that her face had completely drained of color. Dropping the icing, I quickly started toward her, but she shook her head fiercely and sniffed as she leveled another glare at me.
“You aren’t exactly in a position to give me crap for living off my parents seeing as you dropped twenty grand of your daddy’s money on furnishing your apartment.”
I had to take a few deep breaths before I could say anything to her. I knew she was just throwing up her shield again, but God, she knew how to piss me off. Leaning close to her on the couch, I matched her stare and held it. “I’ll find out why you have this shield too. But for now . . . drop the attitude, Sour Patch, or I will take you over my knee and spank your ass so hard you won’t be able to sit for a week.”
Her blue eyes went wide before blinking a few times. When she finally looked away I noticed the blush that had crept up her cheeks, and damn if my pants didn’t shrink a size at her reaction to my threat.
Mrs. Adams and her fake cats. Mrs. Adams . . .
Turning back toward the kitchen, I kept my focus on the cinnamon rolls and off spanking Rachel. “It was a simple question, Rach. I wasn’t getting on you for living off them. You’re in college. That’s normal. I just wanted to know if you didn’t get a job for a reason, and if you were needing money, the bar I work at is looking for waitresses. After yesterday, I’m guessing that even if you had planned on getting a job this summer, what happened to you with that guy pushed those plans aside. And I think a job would be good for you. It would give you something to do, rather than having too much time to be alone and think about it.” I risked a glance at her, only to see her staring out the window and chewing on her bottom lip. “It’s up to you, but like I said, this would be good for you. It would help you start moving on.”
“I have moved on,” she whispered.
“If you’re still having nightmares, you haven’t.”
I walked a plate of cinnamon rolls over to the couch and sat next to her, putting the plate between us. She ate, but she never looked back at me; she just continued to stare off at nothing. I didn’t say anything else until we were done.
“Have you told anyone other than me about what happened?” When she shook her head, I continued. “Not even your parents or the police?”