Little White Lies (4 page)

“He’s not weird!” Vix protests. “He’s quirky. I like quirky. And he’s fit.”

“Yeah, but... there’s just something about him that seems a bit... shifty,” I insist.

“Jeez, Louise! Don’t judge a book by its cover—we’ve only just met the guy!”

I hesitate. It’s not like I can tell her about Oakwood... “But you hate computer science!” I remind her. “You said it was for geeks!”

“So?”

“So what was all that crap about computer code being an ‘amazing secret language’?”

“Lou, it’s called
flirting
.” Vix laughs. “Find out what a guy’s into, then fake an interest so that you seem more attractive. You should do the same with Christian—
unless he’s done another runner.” She frowns as we approach the bar. “He was here a minute ago—he served me. You think he saw you coming?”

Despite her teasing tone, my stomach tightens.
Where’s he gone?

“Can I help you?” A barmaid looks up from wiping a table and Vix nudges me.

“Um, yes, I was just wondering...” I hesitate, flustered. “I’m looking for a job,” I babble quickly.

Vix raises her eyebrows at me.

“I’ve got bar experience, and I need some part-time work,” I continue. “Are there any shifts going here?”

“Doubtful.” She grimaces. “The manager’s not in today, but email your CV to him—he does everything online these days.” She scribbles down an email address on a napkin and hands it to me.

“Thanks.” I smile.

Vix nudges me again.

“Was there anything else?” The barmaid raises an eyebrow.

“Um... just... is Christian working today?”

“Yep.” She nods. “He’s just out the back taking a delivery. He should be back any minute.” She turns. “Speak of the devil...”

I follow her gaze to spot Christian wander in from the beer garden, chatting to a beautiful brunette.

I tense at the sight of them together. “Is that his girlfriend?”

“No.” The barmaid smiles knowingly as he heads behind the bar. “So far, so single. Girls ask him out all the time, but he always turns them down.”

“Why?” Vix frowns. “Is he gay?”

“No,” the barmaid laughs. “He’s definitely straight, but he just... keeps himself to himself, you know? In the two months I’ve known him he hasn’t been on a single date.”

“Two months?” I say.

“Since he moved here.” The barmaid nods. “In the summer.”

“Where’s he from, then?” Vix asks.

“Don’t know.” She shrugs. “Like I say, he keeps himself to himself. But then, maybe he’s just waiting for Miss Right to come along. Good luck!” She smiles at me as she moves away to clear another table.

“Go on, then!” Vix urges. “What are you waiting for? If you don’t snag him soon, someone else might!”

She could be right.

“Do you want me to come over with you?” Vix offers.

“No.” I shake my head. “Could you just wait here, though?” Far enough away from both Christian and Kenny...

“Course.” She smiles. “Just call me over if you need moral support. Not that you will. You can do this, Shepherd. Cool, calm, confident femme fatale, right?”

“Right.” I nod.
I can do this.

I take a deep breath, then force myself to turn and walk over to the bar. I climb onto a stool, watching as Christian pours the brunette a glass of wine; then I finally clear my throat.

“Excuse me, Christian Marcus Webb?”

He stiffens. Goose bumps break out over my skin as his pale blue eyes meet mine.

“Sorry, do I know you?” He frowns. “You look familiar....”

“We met this morning,” I say nervously.

“We did?” He raises an eyebrow.

I nod. “In the café in the park? I threw coffee all over you? Kinda hard to forget!”

“Oh—yeah, right!” His expression clears. “God, sorry, I’ve got some kind of face dyslexia, I think—I’m useless at remembering who people are—not great when I’m dealing with customers all day! Now, figures are a different matter—I can remember any number without even trying.” He shrugs. “Guess I’m in the wrong job! Anyway, how’d you know my name?”

“Actually, that’s why I’m here.” I hand him his wallet. “You dropped this.”

“You found it!” he cries, his whole face transforming as he smiles, his lips curving gently as those blue eyes shine with warmth. “You’re a lifesaver—
thank you so much!”

“Well, not exactly,” I confess. “It’s my fault you dropped it in the first place—I found it in the café after you fled the scene.”

He laughs. “Thanks so much for returning it. How did you even find me?”

“I got your address from your driving license.” I smile. “Nice picture, by the way.”

He winces. “Yeah, right.”

“Don’t worry, everyone looks like a criminal in photo booth pictures.”

His smile falters.

“So I called at your house and someone told me you worked here,” I continue hastily. “And here I am. Sorry I didn’t return it sooner—I had lectures.”

“You’re a student?”

“Yeah. I’m studying English lit,” I explain. “It’s mainly reading.”

“Ah. Slacker.”

“Gratitude!”

He laughs. “Let me buy you a drink.”

“That’s not necessary—”

“I insist. You came all the way down here to return my wallet, missing valuable sleeping—I mean
reading
—time...”

I roll my eyes.

“So it’s the least I can do.” He grins.

“Well, when you put it like that...” I smile. “But only if I buy you one too, to apologize for your jacket—I even promise not to throw it at you this time.”

“Deal.” He smiles. “So what would you like? Anything but coffee.”

“White wine, please—won’t stain.”

“Good plan!” Christian laughs. “ID?”

My heart beats faster.

“Seriously?” I groan. “My photo’s awful.”

“
Everyone
looks like a criminal in photo booth pictures,” he mimics.

I smile awkwardly.
If only he knew.

“You’ve seen mine—it’s only fair,” he insists. “And a legal obligation
—perk of the job.” He shrugs.

“Fine.” I pass him the fake ID Kenny made me.

He winces. “You’re right, total mug shot!”

“Hey!” I try to snatch it back.

“Just kidding.” He grins, holding it out of my reach. “Louise Charlotte Shepherd,” he reads. “What’s your date of birth?”

I blink. “What?”

“Need to check it’s not a fake.” He raises an eyebrow.

I smile confidently. It’s not the
date
that’s fake...

“October eleventh,” I tell him. “Libra through and through.”

But to my astonishment, he shakes his head and tuts. “Go to jail. Go directly to jail. Do not pass Go. Do not collect two hundred pounds.”

Shit.
I stare at him. Did Kenny put the wrong date on? I’ll kill him!

“Just kidding.” Christian winks, passing it back. “You can pass Go, you may drink wine.”

Phew.
“Funny.”

“Sorry.” He grins. “You should’ve seen your face!”

I bet.

I watch him as he pours the wine. “So you’re Leo, right?”

The smile drops from his face as wine slops over the edge of the glass. He stares at me. “What?”

My pulse races, wondering if I’ve gone too far. “Your driving license...,” I say hastily. “It said your birthday’s in August—that’s Leo, right? Or is it Cancer?”

Christian blinks, then smiles quickly. “Right! Yeah. Leo the lion. Sorry, I’m not really into star signs and all that.” He grabs a cloth and hurriedly mops up the spilled wine.

“Lucky it wasn’t coffee this time!” I babble awkwardly. “Sorry—I should come with hazard lights or something!”

“No, it was my fault—I shouldn’t get so distracted by a pretty face.” He winks.

I seize the moment. “Well, if you feel like getting distracted later, a bunch of us are heading over to that new club, Lush. It’s meant to be really great, and—”

“Sorry, I can’t.”

“I promise to only have clear drinks. Nothing that will stain!”

He grins. “Sorry. I’m busy tonight.”

“Christian!” The brunette taps her empty glass.

“Enjoy your wine.” He smiles at me as he moves away.

“Wait!” I say, hating the desperation in my voice. “I still owe you that drink.”

“I’ve got to go—I’m working.”

“Christian?” the brunette calls again.

“Thanks again for returning my wallet.” Christian smiles, my heart plummeting into my pumps as he turns and walks away.

I blew it.

“Jeez, you’re a slave driver when you’re pissed off,” Vix moans as we jog along the road to the park. “I thought you were a fitness freak before, but now... you’re mental!”

“I’m not pissed off,” I fib. “Besides, I let you lie in, as it’s Saturday.”

“Only to avoid a certain hotty who goes jogging earlier!” Vix raises an eyebrow. “You can’t fool me, Shepherd. You should just go back and talk to him. If at first you don’t succeed...”

“Try again and look really desperate?” I shake my head. “I don’t think so. I’m keeping my distance. It’s bad enough we still have to pass his house to get to the park.” I glance up as we approach the cottage with the green door. “Let’s speed up a bit. Then hopefully he won’t even see us.”

“How fast do you think I can run?” Vix laughs. “I’m invisible!” she mocks. “I am but a blur!”

“Very fu— Oof!” Suddenly I tumble awkwardly to the ground. “
Ow!
Oh shit, bollocks, ouch!”

“Lou!” Vix cries. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“I think I’ve twisted my ankle.” I wince as I try to move it.

“Oh my God!” Vix cries. “It’s fate!”

I stare at her. “Fate
wanted
me to twist my ankle?”

“Uh-huh.” She beams. “
Right outside Christian’s house!
Omigosh, it’s just like Willoughby and Marianne in
Sense and Sensibility
. Only without the horse, which is a shame, but look—he’s got a motorbike, which is almost as good! It’s so romantic,” Vix gushes as she races up the garden path.

“Vix—no—wait!
Ouch!
” I wince as she rings the doorbell. When there’s no immediate answer she hammers on the door till it finally opens a crack, and Christian peers out cautiously, his hair dripping wet.

“Help!” Vix cries. “Lou’s crippled!”

“What?” Christian looks at me, alarmed. The door opens slightly more, revealing the left side of Christian’s body, and I realize he’s naked except for a towel wrapped round his waist—he must’ve been having a shower. My gaze strays involuntarily to his chest, where there’s a patch of hair the shape of a perfect heart, with a scar running underneath. I can’t take my eyes off it.

“Louise?” he says.

“What?” I look up, mortified that he might have caught me staring.

“What happened?” he asks.

“She collapsed in the street!” Vix cries.

“I just stumbled on the curb.” I shrug.

“She’s twisted her ankle,” Vix corrects me.

“Here, I’ll—” He moves to step forward, then hesitates. “Please, come on inside, I just have to... I’ll be back in a sec.” He disappears inside the house as Vix helps me hop up the footpath.

“Willoughby carried Marianne,” she grumbles.

The front door opens straight into Christian’s cramped living room, and as Vix guides me to a chair my eyes quickly drink in my surroundings.

Find out what he’s interested in.
...

It looks more like an old lady’s house, with its busy floral wallpaper, brown seventies-style carpet, and tired-looking tasseled three-piece suite. But the bookshelf beside me is lined with CDs, DVDs, and Xbox games, as well as a row of books—mainly on art, music, and Thai cookery—and a couple of sketchbooks. I glance at a calendar on the wall, where Christian’s shifts at the pub are scribbled on each day—except Sunday, which also has
St. Augustine’s 9:30 a.m.
written in red pen.

“Sorry about that!”

I turn swiftly as Christian rushes into the room, now dressed in jeans and a hooded jacket.
Did he see me staring
?

“Is it okay if I carry you into the bathroom, Louise?” he asks. “All my first-aid stuff’s in there.”

I nod dumbly, but the instant Christian’s strong arms are around me everything inside me freezes. He smells fresh, like forests after the rain, as he carries me effortlessly through to the peachy-pink downstairs bathroom and seats me gently on the toilet lid. He rests my foot on his lap and perches on the side of the bath as Vix follows, hovering anxiously in the doorway.

“Now let’s have a look at that ankle.” He gently slips off my shoe and I flinch unintentio
nally as his warm skin touches my foot, sending shivers prickling all the way up my leg. “How did it happen?”

“I’m not sure,” I say. “I was running, and I just stumbled.... It’s probably nothing.”

“Can you stretch your toes?”

I wince as I try to flex them backwards.

“No, no, I mean like...” He lifts his right leg as if to demonstrate, then quickly changes his mind and tugs his trouser leg back down. “Can you point your foot like a ballerina, I mean—I’m not a good example!”

“Oh, right.” Slowly, I extend my toes. “I can, but it hurts.” I grimace.

“Okay, relax,” he instructs. “The good news is I don’t think it’s broken.”

“See?” I tell Vix.

“How do you know?” She frowns.

“I did a first-aid course,” he says. “The bad news is we’re going to have to chop it off.”

“What?” I smile, despite myself.

“No choice, I’m afraid.” He sighs. “Total amputation required.”

“Which course did you say you took?” Vix raises an eyebrow.

“First aid. Though admittedly it was actually all about CPR and stuff—no ankle injuries—so you might want to get a second opinion on the amputation thing.”

“Probably.” I grin.

“Anyway, I
do
know that ice helps minimize any swelling—I’ll grab some from the freezer.”

“Rest is good for swelling too, isn’t it?” Vix says, winking at me. “In fact, I don’t think she should move at all for the next few hours, do you?”

“I don’t think she should walk on it, no.” Christian smiles. “But unfortunately you can’t stay here as I have to get to work—we can’t all read books all day, you know.”

I roll my eyes and he grins. “I’ll call a taxi for you.”

“Thanks,” I tell him.

“It was worth a try.” Vix shrugs once he’s gone. “Nice choice, Shepherd! He’s funny, and fit, and sweet—did you see how he got dressed before he let us in? Cute. Shame he covered up those gorgeous abs, though—but probably just as well, the way you were drooling over them!”

“I was not!” I protest.

“Not that I blame you!” She laughs. “Seriously, how can he be shy with a body like
that
? Anyway, I’ll give you guys some space.”

“No!” I hiss, grabbing her sleeve. “Don’t leave me alone with him!”

She stares at me. “I thought you liked him?”

“I do—it’s just...” I think for a moment. “I only just met him, and...”

“So? What are you so scared of?” She smiles. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

I remain miserably silent. How can I explain?

“Lou,” Vix says quietly, her eyes suddenly filled with concern. “Did something happen to you?”

“I...” I hesitate. Something, yes. But not what she’s thinking. “I ... don’t want to talk about it.”

“That’s why you don’t trust men,” she says slowly, her expression clearing. “You don’t trust Kenny, and now Christian—is this why you keep turning down the fit guys who ask you out? Because you don’t trust them?”

“I don’t trust men I’ve just met, no,” I say tightly. “Trust has to be earned.”

“Yes, but you have to be open to it too,” Vix says gently. “You can’t let something that happened in your past stop you moving forward. And Christian seems like a really nice guy.”

“Appearances can be deceptive,” I mutter darkly.

“True,” she concedes.

“Look, I’m sure you’re right,” I sigh. “I’m sure Christian’s wonderful. He’s kind, and funny and totally gorgeous... but I’m just... I’m not ready to be alone in his house with him—not yet. That’s all. Do you understand?”

“Of course.” She squeezes my hand. “And don’t worry. I’m going nowhere.”

“Thanks, Vix.”

She winks at me, then turns and opens the bathroom cabinet.

“What are you doing?” I hiss.

“Researching,” she says, rooting through the bottles and boxes. “You’re right, you only just met the guy, you don’t know anything about him, and you can find out a lot about someone from their bathroom.”

“Like what?” I say skeptically. “Their favorite shampoo?”

“No.” Vix grins. “Like their deepest, darkest secrets!” She pulls out a box of black hair dye, her eyes gleaming. “Looks like Christian’s hiding something!”

“Really?” Christian says, pushing open the door.

Vix drops the box in surprise. “I... er... I was looking for aspirin,” she lies quickly. “Poor Lou’s in pain.”

“Second shelf,” Christian says wryly. He picks up the hair dye. “And as for my secret,” he sighs, “it’s really a curse.”

“A curse?” Vix’s eyes light up.

“Yup.” He nods tragically. “We all go gray early in my family. You should see my dad.”

“Have you got a picture?” I ask.

“Er, no,” Christian says.

“None at all?” Vix frowns.

“Nope. Why?”

“Could’ve seen what you’re gonna look like when you’re older.” She shrugs. “They say men take after their fathers.”

“Uh-oh—that really
is
a curse!” Christian laughs. “Here, Lou, this’ll help.” He places a bag of frozen peas gently on my ankle.

I shiver, and he frowns.

“You might still be in a bit of shock. You could do with a cuppa,” he says. “Vix, could you put the kettle on, please, while I see to Lou’s ankle?”

“Um...” She looks at me anxiously.

“I’m fine, Christian, really,” I protest quickly. “Besides, I’m not sure I can be trusted with hot drinks!”

“Under supervision you’ll be okay.” He smiles. “A friend of mine once said you can solve anything with TLC—tea, a good listener, and choccie biscuits.”

My stomach flips. I’ve heard that somewhere before....

“Kitchen’s second on the left,” Christian instructs Vix.

“Uh... sure,” Vix says, glancing at me apologetically as she leaves the room. “I won’t be a sec—and I’ll just be in the kitchen.”

Great
.

Christian shuts the door behind her and immediately the room constricts. There’s no air, and I suddenly feel ridiculously self-conscious as he looks at me with those deep blue eyes that make my pulse race.
Get a grip!
I scold myself.
Just stay calm.
...

“Have we met before?” Christian says suddenly.

I cough. “What?”

“I mean before yesterday—I’m no good with faces normally, but you just seem really familiar.”

“Nope. Never,” I say quickly. “I mean, you might’ve seen me jogging in the park?”

“No.” He frowns. “That’s not it.”

“Probably the trauma,” I suggest. “It’s ingrained my face on your mind:
Hazardous person, avoid at all costs.
”

“I’m not doing too well with that.” He grins. “We’ve met three times in two days.”

I cringe. “Right. You’ll be sick of the sight of me—lucky you
didn’t
come clubbing last night!”

“Actually, I’m not much of a clubber,” he confesses.

“Me neither,” I admit. “Give me a curry and an Xbox over a club any day,” I add, thinking of the cookbook and games in his living room.

He laughs. “A girl after my own heart.”

If only he knew.

“But at uni the whole nightlife scene seems to be sort of expected.” I shrug. “If you’re a student, you go clubbing, right?”

“Is that the law?” Chistian smiles.

“No, but... I dunno. The whole student thing is weird, you know?” I babble. “Suddenly leaving your whole life behind, all your friends and family, and just being plunged into this new life in a new town where you don’t know
anyone
... It’s bizarre.”

He nods. “It’s tough starting a new life.”

“You’re not from round here, then?”

“What?” He blinks. “No. I just moved here a few months ago.”

“Why?” I push.

“Why not?” He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Do you ever get homesick?” I ask.

“Doesn’t everyone, at first?” He shrugs. “At least you can always go home.” He smiles sadly and I look away.

Home
. Home doesn’t exist anymore. Not really. Not after what happened.

“I feel like a completely different person here,” I say quietly. “Sometimes it’s like... like I’m wearing a mask or something, pretending to be someone I’m not, just to fit in.”

I look up to find his eyes are deep in mine.

“Sorry,” I say, my cheeks hot. “You probably think I’m crazy.”

“No,” he says quietly. “Not at all, actually. I know exactly what you mean.”

The silence stretches.

“So anyway, that’s why I go clubbing.” I shrug finally. “To blend.”

He smiles. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

I search his eyes. “Are you good at keeping secrets?”

A strange expression flickers over his features. “You have no idea.”

I shiver again.

“You’re freezing. Here, take this.” Christian unzips his hoodie, revealing a V-neck T-shirt beneath. My eyes immediately flick back to the scar I noticed earlier.

“What happened to your chest?” I ask quietly.

“What?” He looks up sharply. “Oh, nothing. Birthmark. Here, this’ll keep you warm.”

“Thanks,” I say, my eyes never leaving the scar that is blatantly not a birthmark as he shrugs off the jacket and wraps it round me. It’s warm from his body, and is filled with the same foresty smell that’s clogging my lungs, and as his blue eyes again meet mine, suddenly I can’t breathe.