1
" Cracking one eye open, I saw Kash sitting on the edge of my bed just staring at me with an amused expression. “Can I help you?” I mumbled against the pillow. “I’m hungry and want pancakes.” “You want . . . What are you, five?! Make your own. I even bought the easy-make pancakes last weekend. All you have to do is add water.” I rolled over and groaned. “Seven thirty? Kash, we didn’t get back from work until after one. You have got to stop waking me up so early. And how are you even in here?” He looked like he was fighting a smile and his eyes kept flashing up above mine. “Candice let me in.” Trying to act like I didn’t notice where his eyes kept going, and like I wasn’t flipping out because I was sure my hair looked like a hot mess, I slowly brought my arm up to brush back the hair from my face when my hand hit something that tugged at my forehead. “What the hell?” I tried to look straight up and even leaned my head back to try to follow whatever was at the very top of my forehead. I saw a blue tip and grabbed at it before yanking it off and holding it in front of my eyes. “A Nerf dart?!” Kash shamelessly pulled up a Nerf gun and waved it at his side. His eyes slid back up to my forehead and a hard laugh burst from his chest. Rolling back, he fell off the bed and landed with a dull thump on the floor. “What?” I snapped, and scrambled out of bed. As I made my way to the bathroom, I was hit once in the butt and once on my calf by more darts. “You’re such a child, Kash!” Flipping on the light, I blinked against the brightness before focusing on the mirror. A loud gasp filled the small room. “Logan Kash Hendricks! What did you do?” He was still cracking up as he got to his feet and came to stand behind me. “I just had to make sure it was on there real good. So I tested it a few times . . . you’re a really heavy sleeper, by the way.” “There is a hickey on my forehead!” His body was shaking from the laughter he was trying to keep in now. “It’s not funny! This better be gone by the time we go to work tonight.” “Don’t be mad, Sour Patch.” He planted his chin at the top of my head and brushed at my bangs. “You have those, they’ll cover it. Can we have pancakes now?” My eyes went wide and my jaw dropped as I continued to stare at him in the mirror. “No! Go make them yourself.” He frowned and brought the toy gun up in front of us. “I’ll let you shoot me.” I chewed on my bottom lip for a moment. Pancakes sounded really good right now. With a heavy sigh, I held my hand out. “Give me the gun.” As soon as it was in my hand, I went around collecting the three darts and put them back in with the other three still in there before aiming it right at his forehead. Kash smiled, closed his eyes, and took all six darts like a champ. When I was done he had little red marks all over his forehead, and though I knew his would be gone in a few minutes, I felt like he’d gotten it worse than I did. “Feel better?” “A little.” I handed the gun back to him and turned toward my door. “Let’s go make pancakes.” I’d barely hit the kitchen when I realized I didn’t hear him behind me. “And don’t even think about shooting me again, or you’ll be on your own for breakfast!” Whirling "
― Molly McAdams , Forgiving Lies (Forgiving Lies, #1)
6
" The roar of the motorcycle stopped, and the rider whipped off his sunglasses. “Are you trying to get your door taken off?” My heart had stopped the minute I’d looked into his piercing gray eyes, but anger quickly took over everything. “Do you always swing into parking spaces when someone is opening their door?” I rubbed my leg once more and stumbled awkwardly out of my car. I realized he hadn’t answered me, and after shutting my door and locking the car, I turned to face him, a frown tugging at my lips when I saw him smirking. “I’m fine, if you’re wondering.” He sat up straight on his Harley and took a deep breath in. “I’m sorry I made you hurt yourself. I’m Kash, by the way.” “Cash . . . like money? Or Johnny?” “Um, I guess we can go with Johnny, but with a K.” “Kash with a K. Got it. That’s a, uh . . . very interesting name. Fits the image, I guess.” His head jerked back. “I’m sorry, what?” I took a few steps toward the apartments before turning to look at him, my hand waving over his frame, which was now hunched back over his bike. I wondered who he was here to see. “You know, the whole ‘bad boy’ thing you’ve got going on there. Tattoos, lip ring, Harley. Makes sense you’d have a nickname and try to make it, I don’t know, awesome or something by having it start with a K. Have a nice day; try not to almost take any more car doors off, Kash with a K.” Kash "
― Molly McAdams , Forgiving Lies (Forgiving Lies, #1)
7
" This is so not fair! Can I have your boobs for just one night?” “Yeah, sure . . . let me just take them off,” I said, deadpan. “Tell me, Candi, do I look all right?” “Uh, yeah. I’d do you.” I snorted, “You’re disgusting.” “You love me.” Rolling my eyes, I walked into my bathroom and put on some perfume. “It’s true.” Just "
― Molly McAdams , Forgiving Lies (Forgiving Lies, #1)
9
" I like the name Logan. You should stick with it. It sounds much better than Kash.” Mason snorted and Candice groaned into her hand before gasping and pointing at me. “Wait! You know him?” “Yeah, he tried to take my car door off this afternoon when I got back.” Kash . . . Logan—whatever his name was—stopped sucking on his lip ring and I had the strangest urge to take over that lovely task for him. “You know, we could always turn that around and say you tried to ruin my bike.” “You pulled into the spot way too fast, and I’d been opening my door!” “Fast? Sweetheart, I promise I wasn’t going fast, and I’d already been turning in before you opened your door. It’s not my fault you threw your door open.” “I did not throw my door open! And don’t call me sweetheart. You don’t know me.” “Uh, Rach. You do kinda throw your door open.” “Candice.” I turned to look at her and gave her a Whose side are you on? look. “So not helping right now!” “So,” Mason said loudly, and clapped his hands, “I’m starving. We going?” Just as I was about to say I was going to stay home, and actually mean it this time, Candice grabbed my hand and walked me toward the door. “Yep!” I "
― Molly McAdams , Forgiving Lies (Forgiving Lies, #1)
10
" We’re from far West Texas.” I let that linger for a moment before turning and shooting him a grin. “Otherwise known as California.” “Smart-ass.” He smiled wide and I forced my eyes back on the road. Oh Lord, that smile was perfect. “Let me guess. College?” “Yep.” “Isn’t it summer? Wouldn’t you want to go home during vacation?” “Uh, yeah. It is . . . but Candice has a cheer camp for elementary-school girls she’s working at this summer. And where Candice goes, I go.” He huffed softly and looked back at Candice and Mason. “Cheerleader. Yeah, I’d already kinda pegged her as one; she looks like it.” At barely over five feet, with bleached blond hair, bright green eyes, and an ever-present smile and bounce in her step, yeah, she definitely looked like it. “So you’re a cheerleader too?” “Ha! Um, no. Definitely not.” Candice usually had to drag me to games and was always getting on me about my lack of enthusiasm for sports. Not my fault they reminded me of my dad. I would always sit on the couch with him while he watched whatever games were playing. He’d taught me everything there was to know about each sport, and watching them now, I could still hear him calling out fouls, flags, and strikes before the refs or umps did it themselves. “So . . .” Kash drew out the word and turned his body so his back was against the door and he was facing me. “So, what?” “You’re not a cheerleader; what are you?” For such an innocent question, it hit me deep. I felt like I was walking around lost half the time, and the other half I was just following Candice to be near someone I considered family so I wouldn’t break down. I’d only majored in athletic training because it was close to Candice’s major. I didn’t want to do anything with it when I graduated—to be honest, I had no idea what I wanted to do when I graduated. I didn’t know who I was, let alone who, and what, I wanted to be. “I’m just Rachel,” I finally answered, and flickered a glance toward Kash to see his brow furrow as he studied me. We "
― Molly McAdams , Forgiving Lies (Forgiving Lies, #1)
11
" Do you want another?” Kash asked with a lazy smile that I wasn’t sure if I hated or loved yet. “No, I drove. One’s enough.” “I’ll drive us back if you want.” We were in a small booth, and Candice had made it a point to sit with Mason, which put Kash and me in a position to get all up close and personal whether we wanted to or not. And now he was leaning in and the smell of his musky cologne was calling my name. “You look like you need more than one.” His cologne had officially stopped talking to me. I sat back so I was smashed against the wall and raised an eyebrow at him. “Just like I look sick? You really are quite the charmer, aren’t you?” He didn’t miss a beat. “And you really know how to turn shit around so I look like an asshole, don’t you?” I huffed a laugh. “Just saying . . . girls don’t like to hear they look bad. I’m almost waiting for you to tell me I look tired next.” Kash’s eyes roamed my face. “Well, I wasn’t planning on mentioning it . . .” “Wow.” My jaw dropped and I blinked rapidly. “I don’t need to do a thing. You make yourself look like an asshole all on your own.” He laughed loudly and leaned in closer than he’d been before. “I don’t know what happened in the car earlier, but you looked like you’d seen a ghost. And right now, you’re putting off an uncomfortable vibe that I’m sure half the restaurant can feel. You know you look beautiful, but that doesn’t hide the underlying stress that is rolling off you.” Before I could say anything, he continued. “So that makes me assume you’ve had a really bad day, which is why I offered to drive us all home so you could have another drink or two. If you honestly think what I’ve said means you look bad, then that’s your own problem you’ll have to deal with. And as long as you’re giving some attitude, be prepared to get some in return.” Oh. "
― Molly McAdams , Forgiving Lies (Forgiving Lies, #1)
13
" Look, Blake, I don’t think Friday is a good idea.” “Why isn’t it?” “Well, it’s—you know . . . it’s just not. So thank you for your offer. But once again, and hopefully for the last time, I’m not going to go on a date with you. If you ever move back to California, I really hope this doesn’t make family dinners awkward.” The corners of his lips turned up slightly. “All right. You done for the day?” This was the first rejection he’d taken well, and it threw me off for a moment. “Um, yes?” “Let’s go then.” “Whoa, wait. Go where? Its Wednesday, not Friday. And I said no anyway.” “You said no to a date with me. The date was on Friday. So we aren’t going on a date. We’re just going to go walk, hang out, whatever you want. But it’s not a date.” He stepped close enough that we were sharing the same air and his voice got low and husky. “If you want to call it something, we can call it exercising or seeing Austin. You can hardly count that as a date, Rach.” I was momentarily stunned by the effect his voice and blue eyes had on me. “Um . . .” I blinked rapidly and looked down to clear my head. “I’ve lived here almost three years, I don’t need to see the sights.” “Perfect, I don’t get out much other than to come to work, so I do. You can be my tour guide.” “Blake—” “Come on, Rachel.” Not "
― Molly McAdams , Forgiving Lies (Forgiving Lies, #1)
14
" Rachel . . .” He ran a nervous hand through his hair and paused for a second, as if trying to figure out what to say. “The school year is about to end and you’ll be going back to Cali over the summer. I feel like I’m about to miss any chance with you I may have. And I don’t want to. I know you liked me when we were growing up. But, Rach, you were way too young back then.” “I’m still five years younger; that hasn’t changed.” He smirked. “You and I both know a relationship between a thirteen-year-old and eighteen-year-old, and a twenty-one- and twenty-six-year-old are completely different.” So? That doesn’t help my argument right now. “Well, you and I have both changed over the last eight years. Feelings change—” “Yes.” He cut me off and his blue eyes darkened as he gave me a once-over. “They do.” I hated that my body was responding to his look. But honestly, I think it’d have been impossible for anyone not to respond to him. Like I said. Adonis. “Uh, Blake. Up here.” He smiled wryly, and dear Lord, that smile was way too perfect. “Look, honestly? I have an issue with the fact that you’re constantly surrounded by very eager and willing females. It’s not like I’d put some claim on you if we went on a couple dates, but you ask me out while these girls are touching you and drooling all over you. It’s insulting that you would ask me out while your next lay is already practically stripping for you.” His expression darkened and he tilted his head to the side. “You think I’m fucking them like everyone else?” Ah, frick. Um, yes? “If you are, then that’s your business. I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry. But whether you are or not, you don’t even attempt to push them away. Since you moved here, I’ve never seen you with less than two women touching you. You don’t find that weird?” Was I really the only person who found this odd? Suddenly pushing off the wall he’d been leaning against, he took the two steps toward me and I tried to mold myself to the door. A heart-stopping smile and bright blue eyes now replaced his darkened features as he completely invaded my personal space. If he weren’t so damn beautiful I’d have karate-chopped him and reminded him of personal bubbles. Or gone all Stuart from MADtv on him and told him he was a stranger and to stay away from my danger. Instead, I tried to control my breathing and swallow through the dryness in my mouth. “No, Rachel. What I find weird is that you don’t seem to realize that I don’t even notice those other women or what they’re doing because all I see is you. I look forward to seeing you every day. I don’t think you realize you are the best part of my weekdays. I moved here for this job before I even knew you and Candice were going to school here, and seeing you again for the first time in years—God, Rachel, you were so beautiful and I had no idea that it was you. You literally stopped me in my tracks and I couldn’t do anything but watch you. “And you have this way about you that draws people to you . . . always have. It has nothing to do with how devastatingly beautiful you are—though that doesn’t hurt . . .” He smirked and searched my face. “But you have this personality that is rare. And it bursts from you. You’re sweet and caring, you’re genuinely happy, and it makes people around you happy. And you have a smile and laugh that is contagious.” Only men like Blake West could get away with saying things like that and still have my heart racing instead of making me laugh in their faces. “You’re not like other women. Even though these are the years for it, you don’t seem like the type of girl to just have flings, and I can assure you, that’s not what I’m into, nor what I’m looking for with you. So I don’t see those other women; all I’m seeing is you. Do you understand that now?” Holy shit. He was serious? “Rachel?” I nodded and he smiled. “So, will you please let me take you out this weekend?” For "
― Molly McAdams , Forgiving Lies (Forgiving Lies, #1)
16
" Uh . . . am I missing something?” Blake looked a little smug as he glanced at his watch, then the sky. “Nope, give it a couple minutes. We got here just in time.” Aaron, his sexuality, and the fact that Blake had gotten jealous over my flaming gay friend completely forgotten, I looked at the sky, then pulled out my phone to check the time. There was nothing special about the time from what I could tell. As for the sky, it was nearly dusk, and although it was beautiful I didn’t know why that was anything worth noting either. Glancing at the people and the street around us, I turned and saw the street sign and did a double take. We were on Congress Avenue. “Oh no. No, no, no, no, no!” I started backing up but ended up against Blake’s chest. His arms circled around me, effectively keeping me there. I felt his silent laughter. “I take it you know about this then. Ever seen it?” “No, and there’s a reason. I’m terrified of—” Just then, close to a million bats took flight from underneath the bridge. A small shriek escaped my lips and I clamped my hands over my mouth, like my sound would attract the bats to me. There was nothing silent about his next laugh. Blake tightened his arms around me and I leaned into him more. I’d like to say it was purely because my biggest fear was flying out around me, but I’d be lying if I said his musky cologne, strong arms, and chest had nothing to do with it either. This was something I’d wanted for years, and I almost couldn’t believe that I was finally there, in his arms. I continued to watch in utter horror and slight fascination as the stream of bats, which seemed to never end, continued to leave the shelter of the bridge and fly out into the slowly darkening sky. Minutes later, Blake leaned in and put his lips up against my ear. “Was that really so bad?” Forcing my hand from my mouth, I exhaled shakily and shook my head. “Not as bad as I’d imagined. Doesn’t change the fact that they are ugly and easily the grossest thing I’ve ever seen.” “But now you can say you’ve faced one of your fears.” “The biggest.” “See?” He let go of me and started walking again in the direction we’d come from. "
― Molly McAdams , Forgiving Lies (Forgiving Lies, #1)
17
" Just as we were passing the school, Blake slid his hand down my arm and intertwined our fingers. “Rachel, why did you finally agree to go out with me?” When I looked up, I was surprised at his somber expression. I would have expected something a little more taunting. “Do you want me to answer that honestly?” “I’d appreciate it. I’ve asked you out for . . . shit. I don’t know, nine months now? No matter what I said, your answer was always no. Until last night.” “Well . . .” I looked down at the sidewalk passing beneath our feet. “You can tell me, it’s fine. You never were one to hide your feelings. And your hate for me lately has been a little more than apparent. I’m already expecting the worst.” “I don’t hate you. I just don’t exactly like you . . . anymore.” I squinted up at him and nudged his side with the arm he still had a firm grip on. He gave a little grunt with a forced smile. “Um, Candice is always bugging me for turning you down. She said she would stop if I agreed to one date with you.” I know, I know, I could have made something up that wasn’t so harsh. But I didn’t. If I hadn’t looked back down, I probably would have missed the pause in his step. “Figures.” We walked for a few more minutes before he paused and turned to me. “I’m not going to make you go out with me.” “You aren’t. I said I’d go.” He raised an eyebrow, making it disappear under his shaggy hair. “You also told me earlier today that we weren’t going anymore. I’m just letting you know I’ll stop. All of it. Asking you all the time, what I did today. And I’ll talk to Candice.” “Blake—” “No, Rach, I should have stopped a long time ago. I’m sorry you felt pressured into it last night. I want you to want to go on a date with me. I don’t want you to go just so she’ll drop it or because you want me to quit asking. Which I will.” I couldn’t tell if he looked more embarrassed or hurt. Is it ridiculous that I want to comfort him? “I want to go.” “No, you don’t.” Okay, still somewhat true. “I didn’t . . . before.” Ugh, who am I kidding. He knows I’m lying anyway. “Look, I don’t know what you want me to say. You can’t exactly blame me for not wanting to go out with you.” He looked as if I’d slapped him. I hurried on before I could chicken out on the rest. “I mean, come on, Blake, you were rumored to be screwing all these students, coworkers, and faculty. And not once did you try to shut down those rumors. Add to that, the Blake I grew up with is completely gone; now you’re usually kind of a douche. Why would I want to go out with someone like that?” “Rumors are going to spread no matter what I do. The more I try to stop them, the guiltier I look. Trust me. As for you thinking I’m a douche . . .” His voice trailed off and he ran a hand through his hair. “Try seeing it from my side. The only girl I’ve wanted for years now and can’t get out of my head no matter what I do repeatedly blows me off like I’m nothing.” Did he say years? Letting go of my hand, he turned away from me and ran a hand agitatedly through his hair. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to your dorm.” “What about drinks?” “I’m not going to make you do this, Rachel.” “Blake, why can’t you just be like this all the time? If how you were growing up, last night, and the last hour was how you always were . . . I probably wouldn’t have ever turned you down.” He huffed a sad laugh. “Yeah, well . . . obviously I’ve already fucked that up.” I watched him begin walking in the direction of the dorms and squeezed my eyes shut as I called after him, “You know, you kinda traumatized me tonight. I feel like you owe me a beer.” Peeking through my eyelashes, I saw him stop but not turn around. “And maybe dinner on Friday night?” When Blake turned to face me, his smile was wide and breathtaking. "
― Molly McAdams , Forgiving Lies (Forgiving Lies, #1)
18
" Blake didn’t say a word to me as I slid into the passenger seat of his car, and he continued to stay silent as we drove to one of the Starbucks near campus. The only acknowledgment he made of my presence was to put his hand high up on my thigh again and hold tight. Too tight. And not much changed once we were finally in the shop. Conversation didn’t happen, his hand was back on my thigh, and we had four different stare-downs. I only won one of those. At least he let me order my own coffee. That was honestly the only good part of this morning. I was barely able to hold in my sigh of relief when my phone chimed. “Who is that?” Blake’s eyebrows were pulled down, and he seemed more than a little annoyed. Only checking the text preview on the lock screen, I shrugged. “Oh, it’s just a friend, he wants to get a study group together tonight.” I started to put my phone back in my purse when his hand shot out and grabbed on to my arm, effectively keeping it suspended above my purse. “Well, it’s rude to keep him waiting. Aren’t you going to answer him?” He looked like he was struggling to keep himself in check. I tried to pull my arm back and he finally released it. Sheesh, what was his problem? It was just a text. “Sure, I guess.” “Just let him know you can’t go.” “Excuse me?” He leaned forward and his eyes narrowed. “I’d prefer that you study with Candice.” Now I was getting mad. He didn’t own me, he definitely wasn’t my boyfriend, and this was Aaron. The same gay guy that Blake didn’t like “looking at me.” “And since when do you get to decide who I hang out with? Look, maybe I’ve been giving you the wrong impression over the last few days, but we aren’t together. You have no say in what I do.” Like a switch had been flipped, his face went back to its usual smooth, sexy expression. “You’re right. Actually I think it’s a good idea for you to study with some other people besides Candice; I’m sure you wouldn’t get anywhere with her.” Wait. What? The sudden change in his mood made me almost feel dizzy. It was like I had my own personal Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde sitting next to me. When I could finally get my mouth to stop opening and shutting like a fish, I shook my head and exhaled roughly. “Speaking of, I really need to get back to campus.” I stood to leave without giving him the chance to say no. Without another word, Blake followed me out to the car. We didn’t say anything on the drive back but he put his hand on my thigh again. Was I imagining how tight he was holding it? When we arrived at the dorm, he parked in one of the spaces rather than letting me out in front. I grabbed the handle to open the door and he pushed down on my thigh, gripping it tighter. I turned to look at him and was surprised to see he still looked light and easygoing. “I’ll get the door for you. Wait here for just a second.” Crap, I hope he isn’t going to walk me to my room. I bet Candice still has Eric in there with the door locked. As soon as he released me, my thigh throbbed from the relief of the pressure he’d put on it and I almost wished I was wearing shorts so I could look at the damage I was making myself believe he’d done. The passenger door opened and I stepped out without looking up at him. We walked without saying anything and I made sure to put some distance between us. I was relieved when he began to slow down as we reached the main entrance of the dorm. “Well, thanks for the coff—” He caught me around the waist, pushed me up against the wall, and kissed me roughly, interrupting my good-bye. Before I had time to realize what was happening and push him away, his body left mine and he started backing up toward his car. “I’ll see you later.” He winked, then turned away from me. I have no idea what my face looked like; I couldn’t even pin down an emotion. I was disgusted, annoyed, confused, and pissed. "
― Molly McAdams , Forgiving Lies (Forgiving Lies, #1)
19
" BLAKE: You look beautiful tonight. Instead of bolting for my car like any sane person would have, I looked around until I found him. Well, running to my car wouldn’t have helped much; he was parked right next to it and leaning against the driver’s door of his shiny little Lexus. How did he know I was here? If he didn’t know I was here, what is he doing here at two in the morning? Oh my word, he’s been following me! No, that’s ridiculous; come on, Rachel, get a grip. He is not following you. Frick, I really need to stop thinking the world and everyone in it revolves around me. He just happened to be here and saw your car. That’s all. Right? Right. I took a few steps closer to the cars and took a deep breath as I dropped my phone back into my purse, trying to calm myself down. “Hi, Blake.” “I was starting to think you would never leave. I’ve been out here for hours.” Oh God, he has been waiting for me! Those words were creepy enough, but paired with the sexy, innocent smile they seemed even worse. I meant for my voice to sound strong and annoyed but it was barely a whisper. “Why are you following me?” “Following you? I’m not following you. Candice told me you were waiting for me to pick you up from the study group. Jesus, Rachel, you look like you’ve just seen a ghost; are you all right?” “Candice said what? No, I was definitely not waiting for you; I drove myself here. That should be obvious, since you’re parked next to my Jeep.” I didn’t know what was going on, but I wanted to get out of there and away from him. Now. “Yeah, but your car isn’t starting. Which is why I’m here.” He said every word slowly, like I was a child or something. “Don’t you remember, Rachel? You called her almost three hours ago, but she was busy, so you told her to call me. Are you feeling okay? Come on, get in the car. I’ll get you back to your room.” “I am not getting in your car, I’ll drive myself back!” With that I took the last few steps to my car, got in, locked the door, and put the key in the ignition. I turned it but nothing happened. There wasn’t even a click. What had happened to my car? I knew I hadn’t called Candice. And even then, if I’d wanted Blake to pick me up I would have called him myself. Someone tapped on the window and even though I knew who it was, I still jumped. “Come on, Rach, this is dumb. Just get in the car and I’ll take you back. I’ll get your car towed in a couple hours.” There was no point in trying to call someone else. It was two in the morning, everyone was asleep, and I definitely couldn’t walk back at this hour. I grimaced and opened the door. “That’s my girl. Come on, let’s go.” He helped me into his car, then got in beside me. This time he didn’t put his hand on my thigh. The "
― Molly McAdams , Forgiving Lies (Forgiving Lies, #1)
