Free Lie for Me by Romily Bernard Page A

target. She’s part of a job, my ticket to something better, and yet . . .
    It doesn’t matter. Remember what you’re supposed to be doing .
    â€œYou okay?” I ask.
    The pause is so long I start to think Wick didn’t hear me. I look at her again, realize she’s thinking about her answer. You can see it in the way she grinds her teeth.
    â€œYeah, sure,” she says finally.
    â€œHow do you feel about the job?”
    Wick’s upper lip wrinkles. “Oh, it feels peachy. Nothing like knowing Joe’s boinking a junkie he’s involved in his scam to make me feel all warm and tingly inside.”
    Agreed. Heather is a potential complication—one I will definitely be bringing up to Carson. I tilt my head toward my bike. “You want a ride home?”
    There’s a brief amused flash in Wick’s eyes. They’ve gone light blue again, vivid enough to distract me until she starts rubbing the back of her neck.
    I smile, mentally willing her to agree to the ride home.
    Wick drops her hand. “I don’t think it’s a very good idea.”
    â€œWhy’s that?”
    â€œYou don’t have to be nice, Griff.”
    I thought girls wanted . . . what? I’m stunned stupid—until Wick power walks away from me and I have to take off after her.
    â€œLet me give you a ride,” I say, striding along next to her. “It’s got to be almost an hour’s walk, right?”
    When Wick doesn’t stop, I touch her upper arm and she sidesteps me. Fast.
    â€œIt’s forty minutes.”
    â€œSo let’s ride.” Hair falls across my forehead and I push it away, noticing her eyes following my fingers. That warm feeling hits my chest again. She acts like she isn’t interested, but . . .
    â€œForty minutes turns into ten,” I add, praying I don’t sound desperate. I’m not , except for maybe when she bites her lower lip like that. Possibly.
    â€œNo.”
    â€œThen I’ll walk with you.”
    Wick backs up. I follow. “No,” she says.
    Are you always this difficult? Not the right question. I stifle a sigh. “Why not?”
    â€œBecause your bike’s here.”
    â€œSo?” I take a step closer. This time, she doesn’t retreat, and suddenly I see how I’m going to convince her. I try really hard not to smile. “I’ll get it later.”
    â€œIf it’s even still here.” Wick’s looking at me like I’m the world’s most gigantic tool, and I have to struggle not to laugh. “You should know how easy it is to steal those things,” she continues. “I mean, all someone would need is a van and two guys to just pick it up and . . .”
    Wait for it. Waaaiiittt.
    Wick snaps to attention and glares at me.
    Got you . I grin. “Exactly. So you should just say yes and save me from getting my bike stolen. Come on.”
    I take a risk and turn my back on her, heading for the bike. For a second, there’s nothing and I think she isn’t coming and this isn’t working . . . and then I hear her—sneakers dragging on the pavement. She’s following me.
    I can’t believe I actually won a round with this girl .
    â€œYou like it?” I swing one leg over the Honda and pass her the extra helmet I carry. Wick eyeballs it like the thing’s going to bite her.
    â€œYeah, it’s a cool bike.” She tugs on the helmet and buckles the strap, eyes traveling over the gas tank and handlebars as my eyes travel over her, catch on her hands. They’re still shaking.
    â€œIt’s a different-looking bike though,” Wick continues and, if I hadn’t noticed her hands, I’d think she sounds fine. “You don’t see many Hondas like this around.”
    I grin. Technically, noticing the bike’s a Honda is a pretty small thing, but it always amazes me how many girls describe vehicles as “the