Forgiving Lies

stretching against the bulging muscles. To be honest, they were kind of frightening. He had tribal tattoos coming down both arms, stopping halfway down; a killer smile; and dominating eyes. But then he picked me up in a big bear hug, and all freaky thoughts of him melted away. Massive teddy bear.

I laughed and pushed away from him when he set me back down, and I turned my narrowed eyes on the guy standing next to him. “I like the name Logan. You should stick with it. It sounds much better than Kash.”

Mason snorted and Candice groaned into her hand before gasping and pointing at me. “Wait! You know him?”

“Yeah, he tried to take my car door off this afternoon when I got back.”

Kash . . . Logan—whatever his name was—stopped sucking on his lip ring and I had the strangest urge to take over that lovely task for him. “You know, we could always turn that around and say you tried to ruin my bike.”

“You pulled into the spot way too fast, and I’d been opening my door!”

“Fast? Sweetheart, I promise I wasn’t going fast, and I’d already been turning in before you opened your door. It’s not my fault you threw your door open.”

“I did not throw my door open! And don’t call me sweetheart. You don’t know me.”

“Uh, Rach. You do kinda throw your door open.”

“Candice.” I turned to look at her and gave her a Whose side are you on? look. “So not helping right now!”

“So,” Mason said loudly, and clapped his hands, “I’m starving. We going?”

Just as I was about to say I was going to stay home, and actually mean it this time, Candice grabbed my hand and walked me toward the door. “Yep!”

I turned, waiting for Logan to exit the apartment so I could lock the door, and found him directly in front of me. I inhaled sharply, and his eyes slowly worked their way down my body and back up. When his liquid-steel eyes met mine, I swear I shivered and my skin was instantly covered with goose bumps. That stupid smirk came back and I narrowed my eyes at him as I tried to ignore the way my heart was pounding.

Calm down, Rachel. He’s annoying, and he’s not even cute. Those eyes do not put you in a daze, that smile does not pierce you to the floor. You do not want to bite down on that ring on the left side of his bottom lip. You do not want to rip his shirt off to see the muscles that fill it out perfectly. And you do not want to spend hours studying his tattoo sleeves. Not. At. All.

Candice couldn’t have been more obvious when she suggested we take my Jeep or that Logan ride in front with me. But there was no point in arguing. Candice always got her way. Obviously.

“So, let’s take the guys to the Oasis, Rach. That way they can see the lake.”

Thank God I hadn’t started driving yet, because I slammed on the brake even though I was still in park. “No!” Everyone in the car jerked back. “I mean, um . . . it’s just always so crowded there. And on a summer night, it’s gonna be crazy.” Anything that reminded me of Blake, I definitely wanted to avoid.

“Oh . . . kay. Well then.” Candice thought for a second before saying warily, “Are you going to freak out if I suggest Hula Hut?”

“No, I’m not. And I—I didn’t freak out.”

“Whatever, Rachel. Just drive.”

I glanced in the rearview mirror to see her give me a Cool it look before turning to whisper in Mason’s ear.

“Hey, are you gonna be okay to drive?” Logan asked softly in my ear. “You look sick all of a sudden.”

“Thanks,” I said through clenched teeth, and shot him a glare as I backed out of my space.

“I didn’t— Jesus,” he huffed, and sat back. “Forget it.”

I took a shaky breath in and held it for a few seconds before releasing it. I knew I was being rude. But it was like I couldn’t stop. “So why’d you tell me your name is Kash if it’s Logan? Are you a part of some motorcycle gang or something and you got stuck with the shitty nickname? Or do you just sing like Johnny Cash?” He definitely had a voice deep and smooth enough for that to be a possibility.

Logan made a noise between a scoff and a laugh and shook his head. “First off, they’re called motorcycle clubs, not gangs. And no, I’m not a part of one; I just love motorcycles. Second, you were wrong earlier, and you’re wrong now. Kash isn’t a nickname. It’s my middle name, and I’ve gone by Kash my entire life. It was my grandpa’s name.”

Oh sweet baby Jesus, someone please give me a time machine so I can restart today. “Um . . .” I tilted my head to the side and grimaced. “I’m just going to throw myself out of the car now.”

“Didn’t mean to make you think I’d lied to you or something. Mason was the one who introduced us to your roommate and I was on my way out to fill my bike up with gas, so I didn’t have time to talk to her. He always introduces me as Logan. Not really sure why.”

“I’m really sorry. I’ve—” I quickly broke off. There was no point in explaining I’d had a bad day. I’d been a bitch, and there was really no excuse for that. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“So,” I said a couple minutes later, “you just moved in? Are you from the Austin area, or . . .” I trailed off and glanced over to see him sucking on the damn lip ring again. Why was that so hot?

“Ah, no. We’re from . . . far East Texas.”

Vague. “Um. Okay. What brought you here?”

“Change of pace mostly. How about you? You from the area?”

“We’re from far West Texas.” I let that linger for a moment before turning and shooting him a grin. “Otherwise known as California.”

“Smart-ass.” He smiled wide and I forced my eyes back on the road. Oh Lord, that smile was perfect. “Let me guess. College?”

“Yep.”

“Isn’t it summer? Wouldn’t you want to go home during vacation?”

“Uh, yeah. It is . . . but Candice has a cheer camp for elementary-school girls she’s working at this summer. And where Candice goes, I go.”

He huffed softly and looked back at Candice and Mason. “Cheerleader. Yeah, I’d already kinda pegged her as one; she looks like it.”

At barely over five feet, with bleached blond hair, bright green eyes, and an ever-present smile and bounce in her step, yeah, she definitely looked like it.

“So you’re a cheerleader too?”

“Ha! Um, no. Definitely not.” Candice usually had to drag me to games and was always getting on me about my lack of enthusiasm for sports. Not my fault they reminded me of my dad. I would always sit on the couch with him while he watched whatever games were playing. He’d taught me everything there was to know about each sport, and watching them now, I could still hear him calling out fouls, flags, and strikes before the refs or umps did it themselves.

“So . . .” Kash drew out the word and turned his body so his back was against the door and he was facing me.

“So, what?”

“You’re not a cheerleader; what are you?”

For such an innocent question, it hit me deep. I felt like I was walking around lost half the time, and the other half I was just following Candice to be near someone I considered family so I wouldn’t break down. I’d only majored in athletic training because it was close to Candice’s major. I didn’t want to do anything with it when I graduated—to be honest, I had no idea what I wanted to do when I graduated. I didn’t know who I was, let alone who, and what, I wanted to be.

“I’m just Rachel,” I finally answered, and flickered a glance toward Kash to see his brow furrow as he studied me.

We got to the restaurant without my having a minor freak-out or impulsively slamming on the brakes again. But hell if I didn’t start drifting into the lanes next to us a few times because I kept sneaking glances at Kash. And by the way the corners of his mouth kept tilting up like he was fighting off a grin, I knew he was aware of why I