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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“Maybe.”

I shoot her a look. “Definitely. Now shut up so I can finish doing your makeup.”

She laughs and doesn’t shut up, but at least the topic of Finn is over for now.

28

JOSSLYN

Me: do you want to meet there?

I stare as the little bubbles appear and disappear before his text finally comes through.

Finn: we live in the same building

Me: so…meet in the lobby?

I stare, and stare, and when he doesn’t respond, I toss my phone aside with a huff and start putting essentials in the small clutch I’m taking. If he doesn’t respond in the next ten minutes, I’m going downstairs, and if he’s not there ten minutes after that, I’m leaving. He may be hot as hell and give great orgasms, but I’ve never sat around waiting for anyone and I’m not about to start now. Especially tonight.

We’ve been hosting fundraisers for the Alma Foundation for a few years now, and I’m usually fine going and mingling. Tonight, I’m giving a speech and even though I’m keeping it short, my nerves are still wrecked. Once I’m done gathering my things, I head to the door and come to a dead stop when I open it and find Finn standing on the other side. My heart skips a beat at the sight of him in his tux. His light brown hair is brushed back, he shaved the shadow of a beard he’d been rocking, which I would say is a pity if he didn’t look so damn good this way as well, and his green eyes are dark and unreadable as he takes me in slowly.

I swallow hard as I take a step outside. “Hey.”

“I was on my way down,” he says, jaw clenching as he turns toward the elevator.

I hold my breath as I stare at his retreating form. I don’t need him to tell me I look incredible, but complimenting the person you’re on a date with is practically a requirement. Even if he doesn’t go on dates, he should know that. I push the thought out of my mind as I sigh heavily and make myself go after him. It’s going to be a long freaking night.

I’m not even sure how to handle this situation. The closest I’ve come is when I lost my virginity to a friend of mine. Things were a little awkward the next time we saw each other, until one of us cracked a joke and then it was back to normal. I don’t have much hope of this going that way. Not because I don’t think we can crack a joke, but because grumpy Finn probably wouldn’t laugh.

We’re quiet as we share the elevator with a couple and their two dogs. We’re still quiet as we walk through the lobby, and when we get outside, I’m surprised to find a very fancy black car and a driver waiting for us.

“Do you always have a driver take you to events?” I ask, getting in the back seat after thanking the driver for holding the door open for us.

“My car’s being washed.”

It’s all he says, which annoys me, though I refuse to let it show. I also refuse to be the only one sparking up a conversation, so I take my phone out and check my texts.

Mom: If you or Finn are uncomfortable arriving together, just let him get out of the car first and give him a few seconds to walk in. Just giving you an alternative.

My grip tightens around my phone. Maybe that’s why he’s acting this way. He can’t think I’m naive enough to believe last night meant anything to him, and I can’t imagine it’s about me leaving. It occurs to me that none of this is the norm for him. He’s not used to seeing women the day after he’s rocked their world or going out in public with anyone, and right now he’s doing both of those things. I take a breath to rid myself of the pressure in my chest that comes with the reminder that I’m the woman he’d normally leave in the rearview.

Me: Good idea. I’ll wait in the car while he walks inside.

Mom: I’ll have someone go out there and escort him inside, and someone else will come get you

I force myself to stop being a coward and put my phone away. Finn does the same with his, tucking it inside his jacket pocket.

“Lang is on his way,” he comments.

“He usually comes.”

“He’s a good agent.”

“Not my agent.” I raise my eyebrows and look at him. “College athlete, remember?”

He huffs out a laugh. “Those rules are so ridiculous. What do you call him, if not your agent?”

“My entertainment lawyer.”

He shakes his head, but I see a hint of amusement in his eyes, and that helps settle my discomfort. The car stops in front of the hotel, and when the driver gets out and opens the door, Finn turns slightly to look at me.



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