What I Need

His eyes brighten. He licks his lips. “Yes. I like money.”

“Yeah? Have you ever seen a hundred dollar bill before?” I hold up the bill in front of his face.

“CJ,” Riley whisper scolds behind me.

I ignore her. In my opinion, this is the only option that doesn’t lead to me feeling like a giant fucking creep.

Nolan stares at the bill like he’s just discovered buried treasure. Big, gray eyes going round. Lips parting in wonder. “Can I hold it?”

“Yeah, you can hold it. It’s yours,” I tell him, handing over the bill.

He blinks at me. “It is?” He smiles big when I nod. “Aw, cool! I’m gonna put it in my piggy bank so I can save up for my sword!”

Nolan pivots around and hurries over to his nightstand. He grabs his piggy bank and sits on the bed with it, turning it over and dumping out the coins through the slot. Seeing that, I grab Riley’s hand and tug her out of the room.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” she whispers. “You aren’t worried he’ll say something about seeing us?”

“No.”

“Why not? I’m worried.”

“I just gave a six-year-old more money than he’s ever seen in his entire life. Did you see his face? He’s probably already forgotten he caught us.”

Riley blinks, realizing how fucking awesome this plan is. Then she giggles and leans into me as we walk down the stairs together. “That was so close,” she says, voice racing again.

I kiss the top of her head, smelling her sweet shampoo. When we step off the stairs, I pull Riley into my arms and hold her in the entryway, prolonging this.

I don’t want to go back outside. I don’t want to pretend anymore. I want to talk about what we just did—what it means to her and what I know it means to me.

“Riley,” I murmur into her hair, leaning away. She rubs my back. “I—”

“What the hell are you two doing?”

Riley’s body stiffens in my arms. She tries to pull away. I don’t let her.

Turning my head, I lock eyes with Reed.

REED.

My stomach drops out. Oh, God. I’m going to throw up all over CJ.

I know how this looks—CJ’s arms around me and my hands moving over his back. The sweet look on his face as he prepares to tell me something important, something big. Hearing the tone in Reed’s voice, even before I turn my head and see his hard eyes staring back, I know exactly how this looks.

I also know from the way CJ is keeping hold of me as I try and wiggle away that he is done with our secret. He’s ready. He’s going to tell Reed.

But I’m not done with it. I’m not ready. The way Reed is looking at us and that sharp, assuming pitch in his voice, I know how he’s going to react. Reed sounds big-brother angry. Disapproving. Nobody’s good enough. Fuck you, CJ. Get your hands off my sister.

I can already hear his response in my ears and feel it saddening my heart, so I do what I have to do. For CJ. For us.

The words spill out of my mouth like water rushing through a broken dam. Once I start, I can’t stop.

“I was sad about Richard,” I say. My voice jumps with anxiousness. “You know, just thinking about what all had happened between us—him using drugs and not knowing he was using them, it just got to me. I was overwhelmed. CJ saw me and was just offering comfort.”

My lie tastes sour and sounds so fucking ugly. I don’t like it. I don’t want to utter any name except CJ’s while I’m standing in his arms, especially not that name, never again, but what can I do? I need to protect us. I need to give this more time. And even though I hate what I say and the way CJ’s arms grow tighter around me and then fall away all too quickly, it works.

My lie works.

Reed should’ve made us, called me out and forced a confession, but instead he looks understanding after I speak and appreciative of CJ for what he’s giving me. Relief floods me and sags my shoulders. I see this as a good sign.

CJ’s arms had been around me and Reed wasn’t telling him to fuck off while throwing a punch. We were making progress.

Reed doesn’t say much besides what he always has to say about Richard.

“That guy was a prick. You’re better off,” he reminds me.

CJ doesn’t say anything.

We all go back out onto the deck, and I feel relieved and a little sick to my stomach. Looking at CJ, watching him the rest of the night, I know he is frustrated with this and with me. I can see it. His gaze is cold and refuses to linger. And when he smiles at something Mia says, his jaw stays clenched.

I think hearing me turn down Grayson helps.

My response is polite and loud enough CJ’s head swivels around and our eyes meet. I do that on purpose. I want CJ knowing that I’m his, that I belong to him, heart and body, and façade aside, I won’t give out my number and pretend I don’t. I would never take it that far.

He seems more relaxed after hearing me. And on the drive home, in the privacy of his truck where we never have to pretend, CJ lets me know we’re okay. He throws his arm around me when I burrow closer and presses his lips to my hair. I smile and rub his thigh.

I want us to talk. Not about my lie or why I needed to say it—I knew my reasoning was clear, and I honestly don’t want to bring it up—but about what had happened in that bedroom. I want to know the big, important thing CJ wanted to tell me before we got interrupted.

“I’m on birth control,” I reveal over the quiet tune playing on the radio. I figure this is a good lead in. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">