Page 57 of One Little Lie
“Okay, Hatty. Well, as your friend, tell me why you’re such an asshole to everyone?”
I scoot back and eye her curiously. “I’m not an asshole.” Pausing, I pinch the back of my neck to stall for time.How do I explain this?“I guess I can see why people might think I’m an asshole, but I just don’t enjoy the same things. That hasn’t changed, Rylan. It’s hard to pretend you’re happily part of the chaos when you’re always on the outside looking in. I don’t fit.”
“You’ve always felt that way, but you used to handle it better.”
That’s because I had you.It almost slips out, but I clench my jaw to keep dangerous words from ruining this fragile new beginning.
“Maybe I did,” I say instead.
“You know what I think?”
Just hearing the teasing lilt in her voice makes my soul lighter. “I’m sure you’ll tell me.” An honest to goodness grin appears on my face, and for once, it isn’t forced.
“You’re right. I think it’s a good thing you’ve been stalking me all these years. You need me.”
“I’ve always needed you,” I mumble, and she quirks a brow, but doesn’t say anything. “I never stalked you, though. Jesus. Is that what you think?”
“Yes.”
That’s it. Just yes. She smiles placatingly, then stands and crosses the small room. Thankfully, my injury is forgotten. I’m not sure I could handle her soft hands on my upper thigh right now.
“Do you think this is really the only place they could find for us to stay?” I ask, glancing around, hoping she’ll accept the topic change easily.
I know the island is small, but that question has been running through my mind since we arrived, and I’m not sure I trust my brothers with this.
“I have no idea. Ash is pretty adamant that we stay on the island, though. Do you know what’s really going on with him?” she asks over her shoulder.
The million-dollar question. I shake my head as she pulls out an electric griddle.
“Please tell me you know how to turn on the generator because I could eat a freaking pig snout right now.”
I stare at her in disbelief. How did we just go from the most emotionally raw conversation I’ve ever had, to pig snouts? But this is what she does to me. What she’s always done. Where I see everything as black or white, she finds the gray. She’s the wildflower in a garden of daisies. Taller. Brighter. More beautiful than the rest because she stands out. She stands on her own.My verity.
Clutching my chest, I force a chuckle as I stand. “Yeah, sweetheart. I know how to turn on the generator.”
Rylan stares at me with a spatula in hand.
Wondering if my fly is unzipped, I peer down. “What? Do I have something on me?”
Something dangerously naughty crosses her face, and I feel my skin heat.
“If you keep calling me sweetheart, I’m not going to believe your ‘just friends’ spiel for long.”
My mouth drops open as she regards me, but I gather my wits and set my jaw.
“We are friends.”
“We are,” she agrees. “You want us to be ‘just friends’?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes set into narrow slits before she laughs. Loudly. Then steps into my personal space. “Okay, Hatty. I’ll let you have that one.”
Staring down into those emerald depths, I see heat, love, and honesty, and my voice turns husky. “What are you talking about?”
I cannot sound husky when talking to my friend.She doesn’t have to be ya friend, Fibby.Startled, I flinch, and Rylan places her hands on her hips, drawing my gaze lower.
“Are you okay?”
