Free Lies I Told by Michelle Zink Page B

full beer in the sand and stood. Leaving my sweatshirt on the beach chair, I moved into Logan’s line of sight, avoiding his eyes. When I stepped into the shadows, I wasn’t at all surprised to feel someone fall into step behind me.
    â€œGrace!”
    I turned around. “Hey, Logan.”
    â€œIt’s getting a little rowdy back there. Mind if I join you?”
    â€œNot at all.” We started walking, the waves rushing up to meet our bare feet. “I’ve never been down here before.”
    â€œIt’s kind of our spot,” he said. “Although I prefer coming here alone.”
    I inhaled deeply, relishing the cold, salty air. “I can see that. It’s probably therapeutic. When there’s not a bunch of people getting drunk and stoned, I mean.”
    He chuckled. “Exactly.”
    â€œThey seem nice, though,” I said. “Your friends.”
    He thought about it. “Well, they’re not all my friends, but . . . yeah. They’re mostly cool.”
    I pulled a strand of windblown hair away from my face. “Mostly?”
    He shrugged. “You know how it is. There are a few difficult people in every group.”
    I thought of Parker. Of his mercurial moods, his resentment of our parents, the self-destructive streak that made it hard for me to sleep when he stayed out too late. That made me think about the scars on his arm and what would happen if he felt too desperate, too alone.
    â€œAnd every family,” I sighed.
    He looked down at me. “You don’t seem difficult to get along with, so I can only assume you mean your brother. Or is there another . . . challenging Fontaine I haven’t met yet?”
    I don’t know why, but I was happy that he’d rememberedmy last name. Or the one we were using right now, anyway. “No, Parker pretty much takes that title in our family.”
    Logan laughed.
    â€œWhat’s so funny?” I asked.
    He ran a hand through his hair. “Nothing. Just . . . Rachel should keep even Parker on his toes.”
    I smiled up at him. “I kind of got that impression.”
    â€œWant to sit?” he said, gesturing to the sand.
    â€œSure.”
    I dropped to the sand, and he sat next to me.
    I turned to look at him. “Truth?”
    â€œTruth.”
    â€œI just about died playing volleyball with the girls. I thought they’d never stop.”
    He grinned. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
    We sat there for a minute, watching the waves roll in and out. I’d been near the ocean in New York and Seattle, but never like this. Manhattan was too loud, too polluted by humanity to be peaceful, even down by the water. Seattle had been beautiful and serene, but the beaches were mostly rocky, the ocean so cold you had to brace yourself to go for a swim even in the summer.
    This was different. The sand was soft, the air clean and fresh. The waves hurried up the sand toward us before withdrawing gently back into the sea.
    I should have asked questions. Should have tried to get information to move the job forward. But the sound of the tide was rhythmic, Logan’s presence next to me soothing. Itall lulled me into a kind of peaceful complacency.
    â€œSo what do you think of Playa Hermosa?” Logan finally asked.
    I liked the way he looked at me, like there was nothing on his mind but me, no thoughts crowding out our moment together. Like it was just the two of us, stranded on a lonely beach in the middle of space.
    â€œI like it. I mean, we haven’t been here long, but so far, everyone seems really nice.” Other than Rachel, it was true.
    He turned his head to look at me. “Like who?”
    â€œWell . . . you seem pretty nice.” I didn’t think about the smile I gave him. Didn’t try to make it shy or hesitant, to make it fit into the con. It just rose to my lips like a piece of driftwood rising to the surface of the sea.
    He raised an eyebrow, a slow smile