Page 89 of The Obedient Lie
My phone buzzed on the bedside table. I reached for it, reading the name before sighing.
“Hold on,” I said, lifting the phone to my ear. “Hey.”
Griffin’s voice came through, loud and bored. “You almost ready?”
“Packing now.”
“You packed something to sleep in?” he asked, and I rolled my eyes so hard my neck almost cracked.
“What I sleep in is none of your business, Griffin.”
“Sure, sure. Just don’t be late.”
“I know,” I muttered, dragging a hand through my hair. “Griffin Standard Time: one hour early, as usual.”
“Damn right.”
“I’ll meet you at the airfield.”
“You’re staying at our hotel, right?”
“No,” I snapped. “Again, no.”
“You say that now…”
“Bye, Griffin.”
I ended the call before he could say anything else andtossed the phone onto the pillow. When I looked up, both twins were staring at me.
Their eyes didn’t move.
It took me a second to find my voice. “When are you guys leaving?”
Bastion looked at Luca.
That glance told me everything and nothing.
“Youaregoing, right?” I asked, my tone a little too casual. “They said starters are flying in a day early.”
Luca’s jaw ticked.
For a moment, I had this sharp, ridiculous thought—they were going to blow it off.Theout-of-state game. The one dynasty scouts actually showed up for. They were the star players. Faces on banners. Half the damn school only bought tickets to watchthem.
“You’re not skipping,” I added, pushing a hoodie into my bag and zipping the side pocket. “Right?”
Bastion didn’t answer. His arms were still crossed, his biceps tensed against the fabric of his shirt like he was fighting the urge to say something that would break the air in two.
I kept my gaze down, tried to keep the mood light—normal. Friendly. Pretended I didn’t feel the heat curling in my belly every time their eyes flicked over me.
But I wasn’t stupid.
They weren’t looking at my suitcase.
They weren’t looking at the door.
They were looking atme—and more specifically, at the neckline of my top, which I hadn’t realized wasthatlow until now. I felt it then. The dip of the fabric, the slight cling of the material over my chest, the way my sports bra had slipped lower after I tugged it down earlier.
I crossed my arms on instinct.
