Page 30 of The Obedient Lie
Headphones in.
Hair twisted up.
Long t-shirt barely covering her thighs.
Biting her bottom lip in concentration as she folded a black lace thong perfectly, steam rising from the garment like it had just left the dry cleaner’s press.
Bastion hadn’t turned a page in ten minutes.
His knuckles were white against the spine of the book.
I didn’t say anything, because I was no better.
We didn’t speak.
Didn’t breathe too loud.
Justwatchedher work — piece by piece — like she was cataloging chaos in lace and silk.
She didn’t rush.
Didn’t hesitate when she lifted somethingredand held it up against her chest to check the sizing.
A matching bra and garter set.
I looked away, jaw lockedtight.
She wasfucking tormentingus.
The worst part?
She didn’t evenknowit.
She slid open her drawer and began putting the pieces away.
One after another.
Soft. Slow.Precise.
Like she wasn’t slowly undoing two Crow boys who’d spent years masteringrestraint.
When she finally stood, folding the empty box and tossing the tissue paper in the bin, she pulled her headphones off and stretched her arms over her head with a soft sigh.
Then she looked up andfroze.
Two pairs of eyes.
On her.
Burning.
Her lips parted slightly. “Um… hi?”
Neither of us responded.
She blinked. “Didn’t realize you were both… home.”
She said it like she might actually besorry. Like she hadn’t just made itworseby existing.
