Page 86 of Infinite as They Come
“Why?” The word came out a little too sharp and too fast, but I was frustrated. That lie he had told me felt like it was still hanging heavy in the air, and the worst part was that he had yet to admit it: that he lied straight to my face, about his mom, only to leave me wondering where the hell he had been while we lay there together in bed last night.
His brows rose. “Why?”
“Yeah, why?”
“It’s the most important meal of the day or whatever.”
“That’s what they say.” I held the fork to my lips as Sawyer’s phone buzzed again, and then my stomach twisted into about a thousand knots that didn’t feel like they’d ever untangle. “Get that if you want.”
“I can leave it for now.”
“For now…” I said, my voice a little too bitter.
He sighed. “Holly.”
“What?”
“Look at me.”
“I’m looking at my pancakes,” I said, piercing one with my fork. I felt him grab my free hand, but I kept my eyes lowered. I hadn’t realized that Sawyer lying to me could hurt so bad. It wasn’t something that I had ever had to worry about, because he was honest and loyal and oh so faithful. It wasn’t him seeing someone else. I knew that. He wasn’t that type of man. But it wassomething, and he wouldn’t tell me, and it had been sitting there at the back of my mind for the last one and a half months. It was at the forefront now and I couldn’t focus on anythingbutthat.
“I can tell something’s on your mind,” he said, voice low. “Tell me. Please.”
His phone buzzed again, and I could have sworn the noise made me flinch. “I just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night,” I said.
“Yeah, me either.”
Lips firmly pressed together, I nodded stiffly. “You were out all day yesterday. I figured you’d be so tired you’d just sleep right through the night.”
His breathing hitched. “Yeah, you’d think so.”
That was when I met his eyes. I was tempted to tell him, to just blurt it out:I know you lied. I know you lied right to my face. I know you’re still doing it. It was everything in me to bite my tongue. His phone vibrated one more time, and I couldn’t help but zero in on the way his hand inched towards the phone.
“Just get it if you want,” I muttered.
“Not now. I’ve got you here.” Gently, he moved his thumb across my knuckles. “Can deal with it later.”
“Later…” I repeated, eyes moving to the window to my left. “What did you and your mom get up to yesterday?”
I didn’t want it to be a test, but it felt like one, like whatever answer he was about to give me was going to let me know exactly where the rest of our conversation was going to go.
“We had lunch,” he said.
For a second, my head hung low. “You had lunch with your mom.”
“Yeah.”
“What’d you eat?”
His brows furrowed. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t remember?”
“I can’t even remember what we had for dinner last night.”
“Was it at her place? Did you go out somewhere?”
His free hand rubbed at the back of his neck. “Holly, what’s with the interrogation?”
