Free Forgiving Lies by Molly McAdams Page A

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 got to the restaurant without my having a minor freak-out or impulsively slamming on the brakes again. But hell if I didn’t start drifting into the lanes next to us a few times because I kept sneaking glances at Kash. And by the way the corners of his mouth kept tilting up like he was fighting off a grin, I knew he was aware of why I was currently not helping women’s driving statistics.
    Candice and I ordered margaritas while the guys ordered beers, and I downed my margarita so fast, the guys were looking at me like I was a crazy alcoholic, and Candice just looked embarrassed. I really didn’t even care anymore what they all thought. I’d had a bad day and instead of its getting better, I’d continued to make it worse. Looking at the large glass, which only had ice left in it, I frowned and set it back down on the table. Whenever I was the one driving, I only allowed myself to have one drink, and now I was regretting not enjoying that.
    “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