Page 33 of Bitter Lies

Maybe Griffin isn’t as immune to me as he insists, after all?

Chapter Ten

Betrayal tastes like acid on your tongue.

Ifeel good during my counseling session, and even Dr. Marks’ gentle cajoling doesn’t bring me down. Strangely, knowing Griffin desires me has opened a new sense of hope because perhaps I’m not as ruined as I thought myself to be.

Griffin’s already in class when I arrive, and following his lead, I ignore him even though the asshat insists on sitting right next to me.

“Hey, Halsey,” Hogan says with a bright smile, to which I squirm in discomfort.

Although he seems like a nice guy, he clearly didn’t get my juices flowing, and now I have to figure out how to let him down nicely.

Which, as I’ve established, is not easy since simple greetings stick to the roof of my tongue like molasses as it is.

Thankfully, Dr. Marks interrupts to begin the lesson, and the class is interesting enough to keep my attention, delving into trauma, and although I try to listen with an open mind, I can’t help but secretly compare myself at times.

I recognize his words in the prickling sensation under my skin, and I don’t know whether to be comforted that it’s normal enough to be in a textbook or appalled. Truthfully, the emotions that circle below the surface feel too intimate to be discussed in this setting.

But I refuse to ruin my good mood, grabbing my things to leave when it’s time and sailing along on the tide, checking out Griffin’s ass on the way, until we breach the doors and I stutter to a stop outside.

“Hey, watch it,” some guy says behind me, inadvertently pushing me toward the stairs.

Numbly I watch as they come closer, and I stumble, smacking my palms on the pavement as I go down like a clumsy oaf.

“Hey, asshole!” Griffin growls, but the guy is long gone as he reaches down and grabs my arm to help me up.

“Are you okay?” he asks, glancing at my skinned palms with a scowl. I nod woodenly, moving away from him and the guy standing by, who greets Griffin with a nod.

“Jameson,” Griffin says in his deep voice, tugging on my arm. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I whisper, wrenching away, but he just holds on tighter as Will Jameson says in amusement, “Halsey? I didn’t know you were going here. I thought you got into some fancy art school?”

“Yeah, well, things change.” I smile harshly, resisting the perennial fucking urge to scratch at my skin.

“True that. Looking good,” he says, but I refuse to look at him, shrinking into myself as Griffin stiffens beside me, looking between us in suspicion.

Taking advantage of his distraction, I pull away, saying over my shoulder, “See you around.”

But I hope I never see Will Jameson again, and not for the first time, I wonder why I convinced myself I would be safe at this fucking school.

By the time the boys come home, I’ve shaken myself out of my funk, but it lingers beneath my skin like a festering wound—which I guess it is. You just can’t see the damage because it’s on my soul.

How many more of Jason’s buddies go here? Will I forever be faced with the specter of my mistakes?

“Dinner,” Griffin says behind me, and silently I sigh, dropping my pencil and following him to the table.

Max is already seated and grunts at me when I join him. Gazing at him warily, I eat silently as Griffin sits between us at the end of the table.

“Yo, did you see that chick Jameson had on his arm last night?” Max says, to which I hunch into myself once more.

“Long hair and big tits?” Griffin rumbles, and when I glance at him, I see he’s got his familiar cruel sparkle in place, but his mouth is set in a grim line.

Narrowing my eyes, I smile, but it’s icy as he plays his game because apparently, he’ll never tire of it.

His eyes light with unholy fire at my expression before they too narrow in thought, causing a shiver of both arousal and dread to wash through me.

Here it comes. Am I prepared for what he’s about to spew this time?

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