Page 9 of Filthy Liar

After silently closing the door to my room and shutting off the light, I crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head for added sound muffling. Then I dial the number Fynn gave me when I asked if I could see him again. It probably wasn’t the approach most women would have taken, but I don’t have time to dwell on one more area where I’m lacking experience.

Because Fynn’s line barely rings once.

“Hello Valerie.”

Good God that voice. It slides down my body like a caress.

“Hi.” I squeeze my eyes shut, cringing at how awkward I sound. I’ve never tried to seduce a man before and boy is it showing. “Did you make it home okay?” I don’t hear the sound of the bar in the background, and for some reason that makes me happy. Like maybe the day he was trying to drown doesn’t seem as awful anymore. Because of me.

“I did.” Fynn clears his throat. “Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Um.” Shit. There are many things I want to talk to him about. Questions I’d love to ask.

What happened today that made it so terrible?

Did you really cheat on Jessica?

Was she your type?

That last one is what I really want to know. Only because if I’m not his type I should know. Not that it will bother me if I’m not.

Much.

But I can’t ask him any of those things. Not yet.

My mind spins, trying to come up with some great, conversation-starting question, but they all jumble around until one just falls out.

“Do you like living in Sweet Side?” I cringe because holy shit I really am awful at this.

“Not so much anymore.”

Of course not.

I’m at a loss for where to go now. I’ve bungled this thing at every turn and it’s making me question whether or not I should keep going. But Fynn doesn’t wait for me to ask more questions. Instead he asks one of his own.

“Why did you come talk to me tonight, Valerie?” He pauses before adding a qualifier that stops me short. “Honestly.”

Honestly.

Is it a word that applies to what either of us is doing?

Technically I haven’t lied to him, and, considering our limited interactions, I can say with relative certainty that Fynn hasn’t yet lied to me either. I might as well keep the streak going.

Telling him the whole truth isn’t an option, but that doesn’t mean I can’t give him some of it. A part I wasn’t willing to admit to myself until a few breaths ago.

And still might try to deny.

“Because I wanted to.”

CHAPTER THREE

FYNN

THIS WOMAN IS killing me. Giving me hope for the first time in so fucking long and it’s making me want to be stupid.

“Fynn?” There’s uncertainty in the way Valerie says my name, and I want to reassure her in spite of my better sense.

“I’m here.” I rub one hand over my face, scratching at the stubble I’ve let grow too long again, as I fight with myself. Even if—by some miracle—Valerie genuinely doesn’t know who I am, she’ll find out. And when she does, she will walk away from me. I can either save her the trouble and be the one who does the walking away or—

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