Half-Truths: New York Times Bestselling Author Page 4

  “Trust me, you look like a friggin’ model.”

  “Thanks. I guess.” I tore my attention away from her to look around the bar. “Is it always this empty?”

  “Give it a minute. It’s ladies night, so all the guys show up soon enough.”

  “Funny how that happens.” I snorted as she slid me my drink. “Thank you.”

  “Let me know if you like it. I can make you something else,” she said, nodding her head at something behind me. “The band sets up there on Thursday nights. That’s another reason it’s poppin’ in here.”

  “Poppin’,” I repeated. Such a funny word. It was one of those words I felt like I could never really get away with saying. Not with the whole Clueless vibe I obviously had going. I sipped on my drink. It was definitely strong, yet fruity. “I like it.”

  “What did your boyfriend think about you transferring over here?”

  “I told you about Travis?”

  Hailey’s eyes widened slightly. “Yeah.”

  “Oh.” I frowned. Had I become that person? The one who spoke about her ex-boyfriend so much she couldn’t even remember what she’d said to whom. “He wasn’t thrilled, but we’d been more off than on for a while anyway.”

  “How long were you together?”

  “Two and a half years, but a lot of that was off. It was weird. We got together our senior year, right around the time we were deciding where to go and it felt perfect.” I sipped the drink. “Probably because I knew my parents hated him and I’d always been such a rule follower, so Travis felt like the only thing that was mine, you know?”

  “So you followed him to school,” she supplied.

  “Right.” I set down my drink with a laugh. “I seriously don’t remember talking to you about this.”

  She shrugged and started working on another customer’s drink, so I continued my story.

  “So, I followed him to college thinking we were going to be together forever, and then . . . we weren’t.”

  “What happened?” She leaned over the bar after depositing the drink in front of the person a few seats down from me.

  “Life. I guess. Nothing crazy.” I circled the rim of my glass with the tip of my finger. “Other girls started paying attention to him. It’s a basketball school, so all of the attention he hadn’t received back home, he was now getting in droves. He’s a good guy, but I just couldn’t be with him. Besides, he doesn’t believe in long-distance relationships.”

  “And you don’t miss him,” she said, rather than asked.

  “Not really.”

  Missing him was something even my brother hadn’t asked me about, probably because he knew the turmoil that came with being with him. Even Travis himself hadn’t asked me that question when we’d texted back and forth. Maybe he knew deep down that I would say no and he didn’t want to accept that. Travis was the kind of guy who thought he was everyone’s type, so I knew he wasn’t sitting in his apartment crying to his roommates about me leaving him. He played basketball in a college built around the sport and it was the first season he’d be truly single and not dodging all of the girl’s trying to throw themselves at him. Not that he’d been a saint even when I was down there. So, did I miss him? I wasn’t sure. I’d been too busy coming up with reasons for why he didn’t miss me to dwell on whether or not I missed him.

  “Well, I’ve always heard the college life is better when you’re single.”

  “Who have you heard that from?”

  “Usually college students who have just been dumped and come in here to drown their sorrows.”

  That made me laugh. I clicked on my phone to see if anything had come in, but when it lit up, it only showed a picture of Lincoln and me.

  “Is that him?”

  “No.” My eyes snapped up at Hailey. “My brother.”

  “This is your brother?” She plucked the phone from the bar and looked at it, eyes wide. “Lincoln, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said slowly, waiting to see if she told me about her crush.

  “I had a crush on him for a hot second, but then I realized . . . ” her voice trailed off. She shook her head. “He wasn’t my type. That’s crazy that he’s your brother.” She stared at me for a long moment as I sipped the drink. The way she looked between the picture of Lincoln and me sitting right across from her started to make me feel uncomfortable.

  “Do you think he was part of the secret society?” she asked.

  “My brother?” I snorted. “I doubt it.”

  “Are you sure? He was always with the guys we saw yesterday,” she said, brows pulling in.

  “I’m pretty sure I’d know if my brother was in some secret society.” I took my phone back, scowling. “He’s my best friend.”

  “Even best friends keep secrets,” Hailey said softly.

  “Not us. Besides, he was the captain of the hockey team, so he definitely hung out with them. That’s probably why you think that.”

  “That’s possible.” She moved down the bar with a small shrug, but I could tell she wasn’t convinced.

  As she started talking to the couple sitting in the far corner of the bar, I decided to text Lincoln.

  Me: What do you know about these secret societies?

  Me: Were you in one?

  I watched my screen, hoping the little dots with an impending answer would come. When it didn’t, I put it away again. I’d call him tomorrow and ask again. For some crazy reason, even though it made no sense, Hailey saying that planted a seed in my head and I knew myself well enough to know it wasn’t going anywhere. I’d either have to nourish it or kill it altogether.

  “Have you started working on your assignments for the paper?”

  “Nope. I start tomorrow, actually.”

  “That’s cool. Are you into sports?”

  “Not even a little.”

  “Not even looking at hot guys in uniforms?”

  “My ex is a basketball player. My ex before him was a baseball player.” I shrugged. “I’ve had enough jocks for a lifetime.”

  “Well, la di da. Not all of us can be as cool as you, Mae.” The twinkle in her eye would have made me laugh if it didn’t look so . . . off. Again with the jealousy. “I’m into jocks myself, but I’m also a biker kinda girl.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever met one,” I said. “A biker, I mean.”

  “My uncle’s in a club. He’s actually touring the US with them right now. They lost one of their members and went to spread his ashes.”

  “Someone you knew?”

  “Yeah, Uncle Pete.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s a big family.” She smiled sadly. “Uncle Pete wasn’t really my uncle. Not by blood anyway.”

  “I can relate to that.”

  My father had a long line of cousins that weren’t related by blood, but by association. People his parents had known since they were born, and by default, I had a long line of cousins as well. Most of whom I hadn’t seen in years, but they were still family.

  “Anyway, my dad was never around and my mom was always working, so I was mostly raised by my grandmother and uncles. Riding on the back of the bike feels like home to me.”

  “That must be hard without your dad.” I offered a small smile. “But your uncles sound fun.”

  We kept talking about family and comparing notes. By the end of the conversation, we couldn’t deny the fact that we were from entirely different worlds. Suddenly, when all of the little things I’d taken for granted growing up were made blatantly obvious. I felt beyond spoiled. Not that Hailey’s family wasn’t doing well for themselves, they owned a handful of businesses, but it was the complete opposite of my family. Sure, we’d all been working summer jobs in Dad’s television networks since we were old enough to, but it was only on his insistence. He didn’t want us to grow up and act like spoiled brats. Our jobs were always an illusion though, a distraction, something to keep us busy and remind us where we were headed in the future. It wasn’t like any of the money we ma
de went to actual bills. Most of the time that money couldn’t even afford us anything in our closets. And ultimately, that was what it taught the four of us—we’d never be as comfortable as we were outside of the family business, because at least if we took a job there, we’d always have a credit card that paid for all of the high-ticket items we were accustomed to. Branching off on our own would mean no credit card and no free spending.

  But here was Hailey, working her way through college, and there I was, complaining about my role in the stupid school newspaper because of course, I thought I deserved better. Maybe I did, but Hailey wasn’t the person I needed to vent to. Celia, maybe. Lincoln, maybe. Hailey? No.

  “Well.” Hailey’s gaze followed the movement behind me. “Your friends are here.”

  I frowned as I pivoted around on the stool. My gaze landed on the same four guys from the other day. I gave each of them a once-over. When my eyes met his, I froze, wishing I could turn around and pretend I’d never looked over in the first place, but I wasn’t going to be the first to break contact. The alpha in me wouldn’t let me. Besides, the way he was looking at me, like he could tear through me without permission, made me want to prove him wrong. He broke first, because his friend slapped his arm, pointing toward a booth they’d found. My eyes followed their movement and I watched him pick the side to sit in, the one that gave him full vantage of my seat. I turned around, drained my drink and stood up.

  “You’re not leaving, are you?”

  “No, but I want to switch seats. I don’t like that my back is facing the door.”

  “Hm.” Her lips pressed together as she nodded. “I can’t turn my back to anything anymore with all the mass shootings, though from this angle, I’d probably be shot straight in the chest.”

  Her comment gave me pause. I stared at her, horrified for a moment as I picked up my bag. It wasn’t an odd conversation to have. Unfortunately, things like mass shootings happened and since we’d reached the point that the average person knew someone or of someone who’d been personally involved in one, conversations about them were at a peak. The casual way in which we spoke about it didn’t make it any less weird though, as if it was just one more obstacle we had to hurdle over. As if it was the norm. By the time I was sitting down on the other side of the bar, away from wandering eyes, my mood had soured entirely. Lana had disappeared from this campus and that hadn’t been a shooting. Someone had taken her without consent. Someone kidnapped her and in turn, she’d vanished without a trace.

  “Are you afraid of anything?” Hailey asked, spinning around to where I was.

  “Definitely shootings,” I said. “And confined spaces. I hate confined spaces.”

  “Yeah, those suck.” She looked up and walked over to a new customer.

  I looked at my phone and saw a text from my brother.

  Linc: Stay away from all of those people. This is not a drill.

  My eyes stayed on the words as if they were going to rearrange and change into something else. This is not a drill is something we started saying to each other as kids—when our parents were walking to our rooms and we knew we were going to get caught on a late-night phone call, when our brothers were closing in on us playing spies with our walkie-talkies, when we had a boyfriend or girlfriend over and were in our rooms while our parents were out and they were getting home. This is not a drill was serious.

  The hairs on the back of my neck began to prickle as I felt a presence looming behind me, so I clicked the side button on my phone and glanced over my shoulder. It was the rude guy I’d bumped into—Fitz was what Hailey had referred to him as. He took a seat beside me. I tore my gaze from his and noticed his left hand was covered in a white wrap, blood seeping through the bandage where his knuckles were. My eyes snapped back to his.

  “Let me guess, someone bumped into you and made you angry.”

  “Are you stalking me now?” His lips curved.

  “Don’t you wish.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time a beautiful girl followed me around.”

  “Rest assured. This beautiful girl will never follow you around.” I stared at him. “Why did you come over here? Did you get tired of your agreeable minions?“

  “I don’t have minions, I have friends, and they’re not as agreeable as you think.”

  I leaned forward, setting my elbow on the bar and resting my chin on my hand. “Did you come over to apologize to me for being rude?”

  “I wasn’t the one who bumped into someone without looking.”

  “What a crime.” I cocked my head, my hair cascading over my left shoulder with the movement. “You did bump into me on purpose the other day though.”

  “Well, I’m sorry about that.” He raised an eyebrow.

  “What? You expect me to clap for you? You shouldn’t have bumped into me in the first place.”

  “Neither should you.”

  “That was completely different. I was—“I stopped talking and took a deep breath. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. I apologized, you apologized. Let’s move on.”

  “Okay.” He looked even more amused now. “What’s your name?”

  “I’m not sure I want to tell you.” I pulled back, sitting up straight.

  “I’m just asking out of courtesy.”

  “Out of courtesy?” I swiveled my seat to face him, my knees tapping his as I turned. “Meaning, you already know.”

  “Amelia Bastón,” he said. “Daughter of Felipe Bastón. Lincoln Bastón’s sister.”

  “Wow. Do you keep a file of family trees for all the girls you’re interested in?”

  “Who says I’m interested?” Again, the ghost of a smile appeared and disappeared just like that.

  “I’m deducing, you know, based on the fact that you left that to come over here and sit by me.”

  I nodded to the table where his friends were sitting. They were flanked by girls on all sides, no longer just a group of guys having drinks at a bar. It had become a spectacle.

  “Maybe I’m not interested in that.” He nodded over there.

  “Which means you’re interested in this.”

  “I am interested in you, yes. I’m trying to figure out how we’ve never met,” he said, “My older brother is friends with your brother George. Obviously, I know Lincoln, and yet, I’ve only heard of you in passing.” He paused, his gaze searching mine. “Why is that?”

  “Maybe there’s nothing to tell. Maybe what you see is what you get, and as you can see, I’m not worth talking about.”

  I didn’t mean to sound as self-deprecating as I did, but it was the truth. Yes, I was pretty, beautiful even. Yes, my family was wealthy, but I wasn’t any more spectacular than the guy sitting beside me. We were just spoiled kids with good genes. To some people that would be the epitaph of their life, I never wanted it to be mine.

  “I think that’s a very unfair and false assessment of yourself,” he said, watching me a lot longer than was the norm for two strangers at a bar who were not going home together. Because I wasn’t—going home with him. He licked his lips before speaking again and I felt myself flush despite myself. “Do you play sports? Are you in any clubs?”

  “I thought you knew everything about me.” I raised an eyebrow.

  “If I knew everything about you, I wouldn’t have walked over here.”

  “No, I don’t play sports and I’m not in any clubs. I am part of the newspaper as of a few days ago so I’ll be taking pictures of those who play sports and are in clubs.” I shot him a pointed look.

  “Good to know.” He nodded, still watching me closely, so closely that I had to look away. My heart was beating too fast, too hard with his proximity. I kept my eyes on the bar even as he spoke again. “Are you planning on joining any other clubs?”

  “If you’re asking me if I’ll join a sorority, the answer is no. I’m limited on friendship capacity at the moment.”

  “You have too many friends?”

  “I have two at the moment and that’s enough for m
e.”

  At that, he chuckled. Our gazes caught again. The sound and the way his eyes twinkled made my heart skip. I seriously needed to get away from this guy.

  “That’s an interesting take on friends.”

  “It’s what I know.” I shrugged.

  To be fair, I couldn’t really count Celia as a friend. So far, she’d proven to be a great roommate, with her absence and all, but friend? I guess technically Hailey was my only one here. I searched for her and found her standing on the other side of the bar, enthralled in conversation with someone. I guess as a bartender and barista, she was everyone’s friend.

  “Why’d you transfer over here senior year?”

  “You know, you ask a lot of questions and you haven’t even given me your name.”

  “You haven’t asked.” His gaze flicked over mine. “You haven’t asked me anything.”

  “So tell me. I already know you play hockey, obviously you go to school here so I’m assuming you’re smart, unless your hockey abilities are the only thing keeping you here, but this isn’t that kind of school.” I searched his eyes, God, it was so hard to search his eyes without seeming interested, or more interested. “What’s your name?

  “Logan.”

  “Logan.” I nodded, looking at him. “I can see that.”

  “What? I look like a Logan?” His lips spread into a slow, wide smile, and I swear my heart stopped beating altogether.

  “Yeah, you do.” I nodded slowly, mouth slightly ajar. His friends started shouting, being loud. We both turned our attention in that direction. One of them seemed to be getting in some kind of confrontation with another guy.

  “Well, I have to go, Amelia.” He stood up, moving closer to me, close enough to touch me, without actually doing so. The hint of cologne he had on smelled really good as he turned toward me. My gaze slid up his obviously toned torso and thick neck as I aimed to look into his deep green eyes as he spoke. “I’ll see you around.”

  He tapped the bar with his uninjured knuckles and walked away. I felt myself staring after him as he went over to where the guys were. There was more screaming, and now shoving. Logan got in the middle of it and started trying to break them up, but one of the guys shoved him hard, and it was all it took for him to pivot his body and punch him square in the jaw. The guy landed on the floor with a thump. It wasn’t until Hailey walked over to me that I realized I was gripping the edge of the bar.