When We Lied Read Online Claire Contreras

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Sports, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 140742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
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“One point,” Tiago says, hands on his knees, as he takes a breath.

“A win is a win,” I say mockingly, the way he did yesterday.

I laugh and run away when he lunges at me. I manage to dodge him, only to run right into Finn, because of course. He grabs my shoulders to keep me from falling back, and when I look up at him, it’s not the expected scowl that I find, but an expression of respect and appreciation that makes my heart skip a few beats.

“You’ve got a killer three-point shot.”

“Thanks.” I grin.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he says when I take a step back and go to turn.

I stop and look at him over my shoulder. “Does it matter?”

“Does what matter?” Hamilton asks, walking over.

We both ignore him, and Finn says, “Yes.”

My heart skips another beat and I force myself to tuck away the emotions that threaten to consume me. Pretending nonchalance, I uncap my bottle and drink water.

“It shouldn’t,” I say, looking at him as I’m capping the water again.

“But it does.”

I stare at him, wishing I could read whatever is going through that complicated head of his. Finally, I shake my head. For a split second, I think he’s going to say something, maybe apologize for trying to blackmail me, but Damian walks over and interrupts.

“I told you she was good,” he says proudly.

“I’m going to buy your jersey,” Will says.

I smile. “I expect to see you at one of my games then.”

We all talk for a while. The only one who doesn’t contribute to the conversation is Finn, who’s watching me and Tiago like a hawk. A part of me wonders how long it’ll take for him to get bored of this little game and move on. The idiotic side of me hopes he never does.

18

FINN

I’ve spent the last two days anticipating this moment, and the shocked look on Josslyn’s face when she opens the door of her parents’ house and finds me standing on the other side is worth it. I don’t text women, and this one has left me on read for two fucking days. Not only that, but she straight up didn’t answer the question when I asked her in person. I should take the hint. She left the bar with that fuck-face Tiago and walked to the park with him the following morning.

It’s more than just a hint, really, but something inside me doesn’t want to accept it. Maybe it’s because I’ve always gotten my way. Maybe it’s that I haven’t had her, not fully. Regardless of the reason, thinking about her with someone else twists me up inside, and I don’t like it. It further proves that I need to fuck her and move on. As she steps outside and shuts the door behind her, I take a second to take her in fully. Fuck. How is she even real? I’ve never had a type, but if I did, Josslyn would be it. She’s wearing a dress with flowers on it that manages to make her look both sexy as fuck and innocent. It’s very short, leaving her toned, tan legs on display. It’s obvious she didn’t know I was coming over, and the thought of her prancing around like this in front of whatever guys are here makes me feel a certain type of way. Especially Tiago.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Finneas?”

My brows shoot up. She’s the only woman who has ever called me by my full name. Twice now. The first time she was mid-orgasm—which was the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed—but hearing it in this raspy voice is just as much of a turn-on. Her lips are glossy, and the thought of how they’d feel around my dick … She snaps her fingers in front of my face and I blink, trying to remember what the fuck conversation we’re having. Surely it wasn’t about me choking her with my cock. She huffs, grabs my arm, and pulls me to the side of the house until we’re in front of the three-car garage.

She narrows her eyes. “Why are you here?”

“I was invited.” I lift the bottle of wine in my hand.

“No, you weren’t.”

“How else would I know this address?”

“Please.” She scoffs. “You’re a Barlow.”

“So? I don’t use my last name for gain.”

“Yeah, okay.” She laughs, a real one, and I’m mesmerized until she adds, “You need to leave.”

“No.”

“What do you mean no?”

I quirk an eyebrow. “What happened to the cordial Josslyn from the other day?”

She flashes me a smile. “I can be cordial. I just don’t want you anywhere near my family.”

I stare at her. She crosses her arms and stares back. I don’t regret sending her the footage, and I don’t regret telling her I want her help on this. But a small, miniscule part of me regrets being aggressive about it. It’s the same small, minuscule part of me that wanted to revolt when I saw her smiling up at that Tiago fuck-face. Who she’s most likely fucking. My molars grind as I push that thought aside.



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