Sweet Liar (Dirty Sweet, #1)

Just as I dropped my shirt on the desk chair with my jacket, my mobile rang.

My heart leapt so high, it was practically in my throat as I scrambled to look at my screen, hoping it was her name that I’d see lighting up on the caller ID.

The name I saw instead caused me to let out a groan.

With resignation, I clicked the accept button and answered. “Hello, Ellen.” Ellen Rachel Wallace Starkney Locke. She was just Ellen Wallace again now, having shed both the name I’d given her and the one she’d received in her previous marriage. Eight years had passed now since the paperwork had become final on our divorce, and still, she made my blood boil every time I had contact with her.

“I haven’t even spoken yet, and you already have a tone,” she greeted me, with a tone of her own. So nasty. So like Ellen.

Now there was a boner killer.

“Yes, I think I earned the right, don’t you?” I didn’t need to bring up her past sins against me. She knew them.

“Honestly, Dylan,” she said, letting out an audible sigh. “Move on. I have. It’s time you joined me.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. She was a liar. She hadn’t moved on. She was still stuck underneath the emotional avalanche that had fallen upon her the day Amanda had died ten years ago. Instead of facing her pain, Ellen had buried it, becoming rotten and disconnected as she did.

If she’d really moved on, if she’d let herself heal, would she and I be apart today?

I couldn’t imagine it. Didn’t even want to anymore. Because I had moved on—moved on from her and any notion of happily ever after. She’d proven to me that love always died, and I’d accepted it. She was the one in denial.

I didn’t want to go there with her, though, not tonight. “Why are you calling, Ellen? Anything you have to say could have been said to me tomorrow when I pick up Aaron.”

“That’s what I’m calling about. Aaron won’t be able to see you until the afternoon. Oh, and then he has Latin lessons at four, so it will be evening, actually, before you can get him.”

I ran my palm through my hair and clutched a handful tightly in frustration. “Christ, Ellen. He can’t skip Latin one week while his father is in town? I flew from another continent to spend this time with him.”

“Lessons are paid for in advance. There are no makeups. Latin is a foundational language, and it’s so important these days.”

No. It wasn’t. Not as important as spending time with his father.

But there was no rationalizing with the helicopter tiger mother that was Ellen Wallace. “And why is it I can’t see him during the day? I chose this week to visit because he had time off from school.”

“While he doesn’t have school this week officially, tomorrow the teachers will be in the classrooms available for makeup work and tutoring. I signed Aaron up for the full day.”

I leaned against the desk, my knuckles curled. Aaron didn’t need tutoring or makeup. He had a three point four grade point average. This was Ellen being spiteful and stubborn.

“Cancel it. I can tutor him.”

“On seventh-grade advanced chemistry?” she retorted patronizingly. “Even if you could understand it, he needs a lab.”

“Why is a thirteen-year-old even taking advanced chemistry? Aaron doesn’t have a scientific bone in his body. Are you shoving these classes down his throat?”

“I’m insuring his future,” Ellen said, raising her voice.

“Ensuring that he’s going to hate you one day, if not already. Cancel the tutoring.”

“It’s too late. He’s signed up. And I’ll not let you get in the way of his success.”

“His success,” I echoed incredulously. He was still just a boy. Did she ever give him a chance to just be a kid? I was so angry, I went low. “I’ll pick him up myself. I’ll sign him out from the school as soon as you drop him off.”

“It would be kidnapping. They won’t let you take him without my authorization.” She was just as nasty as I was. Nastier.

“I’m not on the school’s parental records? We’d always agreed it would be both of us in case there was ever an emergency!”

“I reconsidered. If there was an emergency, you’d be too far away.” She sounded proud of herself. “I have my sister listed as emergency now. And Donovan Kincaid is there as a backup to her.”

I had to stop myself from kicking the chair, and only because I was concerned that I’d break a toe with as hard as I wanted to kick it. “Donovan Kincaid doesn’t know what to do with a kid. This is you trying to keep him from me, like you always do.” This conversation reaffirmed my decision to get a second apartment in New York City—so that I could visit more often and have more access to Aaron.

“I’m not keeping him from anyone. You are delusional.”

“And you’re ice. Cold and bitter and mean. Exactly the qualities that drove me to leave you.” Maybe I was going there after all.

“You didn’t leave me because I was cold and bitter. You left because I cheated on you.” She’d destroyed my heart with her betrayal and she almost sounded like she was gloating.

To hell with her.

“You were ice cold and bitter before that. It simply took the act of you cheating on me to recognize that I couldn’t…” I paused and inhaled deeply. I didn’t need to relive this. I didn’t want to remember how deeply I’d once believed in her. In us.

“That you couldn’t save me?” she finished for me. “Couldn’t make me whole again? Is that what you were going to say?” She was callous and cruel as she pointed out how na?ve I had been to think that I could love her better.

Yes, Ellen, we are in agreement there.

I’d been stupid in those romantic notions. I was wiser now. And I didn’t see any point in returning to naivety, regardless of the pull my heart occasionally gave.

“I’m picking Aaron up from school when he’s done with the day,” I said firmly, refusing to dwell on the past any longer. “I’ll make sure he reviews his Latin before I drop him off at home. And, by God, Ellen, you better have me approved to retrieve him or I’ll get my solicitor involved.” Then, before she could refute me, I said good night and clicked off the phone.

What a goddamned shrew.

I was energized with rage, my heart racing with the power of it.

But underneath my temper was a dangerous longing. A yearning for a different time. A time when I could afford the innocent enthusiasm for human connection. Before I knew how cruel people could be. Before I understood the downfalls of being vulnerable.

What a rose-colored world it had been—a prettier, more tolerable world—when I’d believed wholeheartedly in commitments and forever. When lust and love were two sides of the same coin. Sex, an expression of feelings rather than just a pleasurable release.

I longed to be free of the reality that I wore like chains around my neck.

And then! Then I could ask a girl back to my hotel room without caring about age differences or impropriety or what state my suite had been left in. I could get lost in the breathlessness of her kiss, not worrying about anyone’s feelings or what might inevitably happen if I put my trust in her embrace. I could imagine it so vividly, what it would be like to be that kind of a man again, what it would be like to kiss a girl like Audrey, undress her, teach her. Make love to her.

My trousers were bulging again with the fantasy. I was throbbing and thick. I couldn’t make it to the shower if I tried.