Half-Truths: New York Times Bestselling Author Read online

  According to his profile on the school website, his full name was Logan Moriarty Fitzgerald. I laughed, assuming one of his parents must have been a Sherlock Holmes fan. Why would they name their kid after the villain? It definitely fit though. He had a mysterious aura about him that matched his namesake. Even in his official photograph, he didn’t smile.

  He was six foot four, two hundred and twenty pounds. I always found it fascinating that athletes gave away their weights and heights so openly. I zoomed in on his picture. His dark hair was longer than he wore it now, his green eyes deep, even there, like they encompassed an entire forest. There was nothing else to see, but on a whim, I decided to go to my brother’s Instagram account and look around. There was a picture of him and Logan that I’d apparently liked last December. I vaguely remembered seeing the picture but hadn’t really paid attention to it. I liked anything Lincoln posted out of solidarity. I kept staring at the picture. They were both smiling as they joked around about something. It was obvious there was a friendship there. I wondered why he’d never mentioned him in the past. Unless their friendship had turned awry.

  I went down a rabbit hole until I landed on an old headline: Patrick Fitzgerald accused of raping woman. Former hockey star turned businessman accused of statutory rape. Businessman, Patrick Fitzgerald, acquitted of rape charges. There was a knot in the pit of my stomach as I clicked on his picture. Evidentially, Patrick was Logan’s older brother, older by ten years, according to the news report. I wondered if this was the guy who was friends with my older brother George. He was handsome. The kind of handsome that made women in juries not convict because they didn’t believe a person who looked that good had to take something without permission. It was a slippery slope, of course, because anybody with that kind of money and power would be able to take something without permission and get away with it. I wondered what Logan’s take on it was, and why I even cared to hear it. It was that thought that made me shut down the computer and head to the party.

  Chapter Eight

  I was holding a red plastic cup in my hand as I stood in the corner of the party watching everyone else get piss drunk. Maybe Nolan had been right. Maybe I should have gone to their party instead of this one. At least there, I would’ve gotten answers.

  “You need to turn that frown upside down,” Celia said as she walked over and stood beside me. “Come on, Quentin’s friend keeps asking about you. He’s hot, he thinks you’re hot, it’ll be a match made in double date heaven.”

  “No thanks.” I laughed, sipping my lukewarm beer. “I’m just not in the mood. Besides, I just got out of a relationship with a basketball player. The last thing I need is to get in another.”

  The door opened wide and a shirtless guy walked through with his hands thrown in the air as he screamed, “Party’s here.”

  It was one of the hockey guys who was always with Logan. My heart skipped. I stood a little taller. Was he here too?

  “Oh. I see. You want to rebound with a hockey player.” Celia laughed at the warning look I shot her. “Hey, I’m not judging. They’re definitely wild.”

  “I need another drink.”

  She held up a black flash. “On it.”

  I took a swig and coughed. “This tastes like something a pirate would drink.”

  “That’s because it’s whiskey.”

  “Why is it hot?” I took another swig.

  “Take three more and you won’t care what temperature it is.”

  I took one more and handed it back. “I think I’m good.”

  She took one. “Well, I have to go check on Q. You gonna be okay here?”

  “Yep.” I shook the red plastic cup and leaned back against the wall.

  When she walked away, the door opened again, and Nolan walked in, also shirtless, also throwing his hands up screaming about partying. What in the world were they on? I didn’t know but I couldn’t help but laugh. Three girls trailed behind him, a blonde, a brunette, and a redhead. He seemed to have all bases covered. They were all laughing at him as they walked toward the kitchen. The third guy they were always with walked in, this one with a t-shirt on that pressed against his muscles, and no screaming. He kind of looked around quickly and headed in the same direction as the others. Lastly, Logan walked in. My heart jumped into my ears. He was wearing a loose black t-shirt and jeans. His gaze did a sweep of the room, landing on me momentarily. Two girls walked in right behind him, both with long brown hair, like mine. Both with tanned skin, like mine. He tore his gaze away as one of the girls jumped on his back with a laugh. He didn’t smile, not even as he walked over to the kitchen and set her down on the counter before walking away, without further acknowledging her.

  Any idea of asking questions about my brother went out the window as I watched Nolan make out with two of the girls he arrived with, at the same time. It was something I’d only ever seen in illicit videos, but I guess it was a thing. I couldn’t imagine him handling three girls at once. My gaze shifted to Logan, who was talking to the other guy in their group with a shirt on, by the keg. The two girls he’d come here with went over to them. Something akin to jealousy bloomed inside me and I forced myself to look away. Pushing off the wall, I decided to leave. I walked outside and emptied the beer on the lawn before tossing the cup into the trashcan on the side of the house.

  “Just when I thought I couldn’t like you less, you go and waste alcohol.”

  I jumped at the voice beside me and turned to see Logan standing beside me. My brain struggled to come up with a comeback for what he said, but I kept tripping on it. He couldn’t like me less? I hadn’t even given him a reason not to like me. I turned and kept walking. At the sound of footsteps behind me, my heart began to race. I looked over my shoulder.

  “If you dislike me so much, why are you following me?”

  “I’m not.” He scowled. “I’m walking home.”

  “Okay, well, walk beside me and not behind me like a creep.”

  He looked amused as he shrugged. “Okay.”

  We started walking side by side. He was much taller than me, even in the three-inch wedges I wore. We walked in complete silence for two desolate blocks. When we reached the stoplight, there was a group of drunk people who instantly lit up and started shouting and yelping when they saw Logan.

  “We’re just on our way to Q’s party, why’d you leave?” one of the guys asked.

  Logan shrugged. “Got bored.”

  “Bored?” One of the girls stepped forward, placing a hand against his chest. “I’ll make sure you’re not bored if you go back with us.”

  “Or we can meet you at the pool in your apartment building again,” the other girl suggested.

  I glanced away, focusing on the streetlight, which was still not changing to give us the walking signal.

  “Seriously, Fitz,” the first girl said.

  The scene was making me restless. Worse, it was making me jealous and even worse, it was making me wonder if this was what Travis was up to in North Carolina. Late nights with an unattainable jock will do that, I guess. The second the light flashed for us to walk, I took off, not bothering to tell him I was going ahead without him. It wasn’t like this was a thing, or he was walking me home or anything. I heard the voices behind me grow louder but didn’t turn to see what the commotion was about. I had one goal in mind, and that was to get back to my place, shut the door, and go to bed. At the sound of fast-paced footsteps behind me, I glanced over my shoulder and caught Logan jogging toward me. By this point, I was far enough from where I’d left him, but he looked completely at ease and not out of breath at all with his slow jog.

  “You call me rude, but you walked away without so much as a goodbye.”

  “I was bored of the whole let’s see who can convince Logan to party with us or fuck us bit.” I stopped walking and faced him. “Where’s your harem of groupies anyway?”

  “Why does it matter?”

  “I don’t know. You’re over here lecturing me on being rude, but you got
to the party with two girls and left with none.”

  “They’ll survive.”

  “Why’d you leave?”

  “I got bored.”

  “Bored,” I repeated. “Because I’m curious, what part were you bored of? The harem or the rambunctious friends you were hanging out with?”

  “Both.” His eyes were still twinkling, still amused.

  “Interesting,” I said. “I find it interesting that you left all of that boredom behind to come after me, especially after you said you don’t like me.”

  “Does that bother you?”

  “Does what bother me? That you said it or that you meant it?”

  “Both.”

  “No.” I grit my teeth together. “I could care less.”

  “Really?” He raised an eyebrow. “Because you look a little upset to me.”

  “You obviously don’t know anything about me. I always look upset.”

  He threw his head back in laughter, and it caught me so off guard that all I could do was stare at his thick neck and the way his Adam’s apple bobbed with his amusement. When he was done laughing, he pointed those piercing green eyes at me and grinned.

  “You’re funny.”

  “Thanks, I guess. Though I’m not exactly signing up for a position as your personal comedian and you already made it very clear that you don’t like me, so I don’t know why it matters.”

  “Maybe I was wrong about you.”

  “You probably weren’t.” I started walking again.

  “Why are you so serious all the time?” At his question, I lifted my gaze to his briefly. “Your brothers are all so—”

  “Outgoing? Fun? Athletic?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I guess we were raised differently.”

  “How’s that?”

  “I don’t know you well enough to talk to you about that.”

  “I guess you’re not so different after all.” He squinted at me momentarily before looking straight ahead.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You all act like you have more skeletons in your closet than anyone else.”

  “Excuse me, but I have exactly zero skeletons in my closet. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m kind of going through a lot right now.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Besides, I don’t like talking to people I don’t know about my life.”

  “Why?”

  “Do you tell everyone you know about your life?”

  “If they ask nicely.” He winked.

  My face heated. “Stop winking at me.”

  He chuckled again. I bit my lip and looked away. Why did he have to be so damn handsome?

  “Why are you suddenly so interested in me anyway?”

  “Suddenly?” His eyes twinkled. “I was talking to you at the bar the other night.”

  “Right. Before you went and got into that fight.” I looked down at his hands. His knuckles were no longer wrapped in anything, but they still looked chaffed. “This is me.” I pointed at the front door and froze, panicking when Logan walked to the door and held it open for me. “I’m not inviting you in.”

  “You’re not?”

  “No. Did you walk me home because you thought I was going to sleep with you?”

  “I already told you, I’m not walking you home.” He shot me a look. “Did you think I would think you were going to sleep with me? Even after declaring to yourself and the world a hundred times that I don’t like you?”

  “Well, you were the one who said you didn’t like me.”

  “And you were the one who repeated it the entire walk over.”

  “Whatever.” I crossed my arms against the cool air of the lobby and hoped the bellman wouldn’t be alerted by our argument. The last thing I needed was my parents getting a full report on what was happening in their building. “I’m not inviting you in.”

  “Can’t you just thank me for opening the door for you?”

  “Oh.” I stepped forward, brushing past him, blushing furiously again because what the heck was wrong with me when I was around this guy? “Thanks for opening the door for me.”

  “And for walking you home.”

  “You just said you weren’t walking me home.”

  “Thank me anyway.”

  I huffed out a breath, rolling my eyes. “You’re seriously confusing me with your boring harem.”

  “Boring harem.” He was clearly trying not to smile. “I definitely don’t think you can be part of that harem.”

  “You know, if you’re just going to insult me all night, I think this conversation needs to be over.” I lifted my chin up to him. He walked inside and let the door close behind him. “What are you doing? Why aren’t you leaving?”

  “I’ve decided to walk you home after all.”

  “Well, I’m home.” I waved a hand around the lobby.

  He exhaled. “To your door, Amelia.”

  My heart skipped. Stupid, idiotic instrument. Nobody ever called me Amelia. As soon as they heard my name, everyone tried to shorten it, which was why I made it easy for them by introducing myself as Amelia, but you can call me Mae, most of the time. I thought about it for a moment. What could really go wrong if he walked me to my door? I reminded myself: black belt, some self-defense, my father owned the building, and Gary the security guard would most certainly be watching the cameras. Fuck it.

  “Fine.” I turned toward the elevator. Logan followed.

  We rode up to my floor in silence. Awkward silence.

  “You’re not much of a talker,” he said.

  “Depends on who you ask. My ex said I never shut the fuck up.”

  His face darkened. “Why would he say that?”

  “Because I never shut the fuck up.” I cracked a smile.

  “You should smile more often.”

  “Why? You’d like me if I smiled?”

  His mouth twitched. “You’re really stuck on that.”

  “Want me to be honest? I think I feel a little offended by it.”

  “Because normally men throw themselves all over you.”

  “Not all of them.” I held his gaze. “Obviously.”

  Neither of us spoke, but the amusement in his eyes was gone, replaced by something darker, something that tugged me and spread heat inside me. He was looking at me like someone who wanted to kiss me, and against my better judgment, I would totally let him. When the elevator doors opened and chimed, neither one of us moved. I felt like he was rooting me in place with some spell cast from his eyes. The elevator doors started to close, and Logan put out his arm to stop it. He was still looking at me, having this never-ending staring contest that only had one ending, an animalistic make-out session followed by hours of fucking.

  My core clenched at the possibility of the second option. I hadn’t kissed a guy that wasn’t Travis in well over two years. I wouldn’t even know how to do it, but I wanted to so badly right now. The elevator started alarming us to either get out or stay in, I broke away from his gaze and walked out. He followed.

  “Where do you live anyway?” I asked, licking my lips as I searched for my keys in my crossbody.

  “Down the hall.”

  “Down this hall?” I stopped walking. My gaze followed as he pointed to the apartment opposite of mine, way down the hall. I looked at him. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

  “That just means that you don’t pay attention to your surroundings nearly as much as you should.”

  “Have you seen me?”

  “It feels like I see you everywhere.”

  “I’m not sure what to make of that statement,” I said absentmindedly as something caught my eye. “What is that?”

  There was something on the floor in front of my door. It looked like a flower. I swung the key ring around my finger as we walked in that direction, my eyes on the white flower—a gardenia? My mother was obsessed with them and always had them planted in our house. Beneath it, a white envelope with my name written in script on it. Before I could bend down to pick it up, Logan did i
t for me.

  “Secret admirer?”

  Nobody knew I lived here, only Celia. Logan handed me the flower and envelope. It was really thin, so thin that it could very well be empty. I stared at my name on it a moment longer and looked up at Logan.

  “It’s probably from my parents.” I frowned. “Nobody knows I live here.”

  He cleared his throat. “How’s Lincoln?”

  My shoulders slumped. “Still in a coma. I don’t know how long they plan to keep him like that.”

  Logan idled a little. “Well, if you need me I’m in 408.”

  “I am not going to 408.” I looked up at him from the envelope. “Not one of your groupies, remember?”

  “How can I forget?” He sort of smiled.

  “How come everyone calls you Fitz?” I asked.

  “That’s my name.” He tilted his head slightly. “Logan Fitzgerald.”

  “Logan Moriarty Fitzgerald.” I raised an eyebrow. “I did my research.”

  “You did, huh? What else did you find out?”

  “A lot of random facts, like your weight and height.” And things about his brother that I didn’t want to bring up right now. I licked my lips. “You tell everyone to call you Fitz.”

  “You tell everyone to call you Mae.”

  “You can call me Mae if you want to.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I don’t like to follow the herd.”

  “Hm.” I put the key in the hole and turned it, unlocking it before facing him once more. It was so stupid, but I couldn’t let this go. “But I introduce myself to everyone as Amelia and give them the option. You introduce yourself as Fitz—period.”

  “Everyone except for you.” His eyes danced as he said that. He knew where I was going with this. It wasn’t like I wasn’t being obvious.