Page 59 of Secrets and Lies
The corner of his mouth ticks up in a grin. “I don’t mind messy.”
Heat rushes to my face, and I drop my eyes to the coffee still clutched in my hands. “Thanks,” I mumble and make the mistake of looking back up at him.
“Anytime, partner.” He shoots me a wink, but it’s the smirk on his full lips that makes my stomach clench.
I’m saved from having to answer when the door swings open and Professor Morris strides into the room, and I pick up the breakfast sandwich Ant brought me while Professor Morris goes to the desk and unpacks his briefcase.
It’s from a café that’s close to Romeo House, and I gingerly peel back some of the wrapping, then lift the top of the oversized English muffin. Inside it is a slice of Canadian bacon, a slice of marble cheese, and a poached egg.
It’s the sandwich I always order from there.
I flick my gaze to Anthony. He knows my breakfast order? How?
He catches me looking at him and gives me another of those smirk-smiles that are going to be the death of me.
Turning back to the front of class, I take a bite of my sandwich and try to focus on Professor Morris. I just need to get through this class, then I can freak out and overthink everything that just happened in the last ten minutes.
It’s like I’m walking to my own execution as I trudge down the hall of Belmont House, and I feel physically ill as I knock on McKenna’s door.
There’s a long pause, then the lock flips, and the door slowly opens.
“Hey.” She steps aside so I can come in.
“Hey,” I say as she closes the door. “Is Bella around?” I nod to her roommate’s side of the room.
She shakes her head.
“We need to talk,” I say after a pause, not sure how else to start the conversation.
“We do?” Her tone is innocent, but her expression is resigned. “What about?”
“Can we sit?” I don’t want to have this talk standing in front of her door.
She nods, and we head over to the small sitting area in the middle of the room and perch on the couch.
“What do you want to talk about?” she asks as she looks at her manicure.
“I know what happened at the Baxter party,” I say bluntly. Might as well get right to it.
Her cheeks color and she stops examining her nails, but she still doesn’t look at me. “What do you mean?”
“Kenna…”
“Nothing happened at the party,” she says stiffly. “And whoever told you something happened is lying to you.”
“Is the video I saw lying to me too?”
Her gaze snaps to mine, and by her wide-eyed expression, she has no idea there’s a video of her transgression.
“Why?” I ask softly.
Her eyes fill with tears. “I don’t know.”
“Do you regret it?”
She nods, her dark beach waves swinging around her shoulders.
“Did you sleep with him?” I ask, even though I’m not sure I want to know the answer.
