Read Love Me With Lies 03 Thief for Free Online Page A

nose. “I thought a mermaid lived in my shower drain, and I used to call her Sarah and talk to her.”
    “Active imagination,” I countered. She was becoming more insistent, her little body wriggling in my grip.
    “I used to make paper out of dryer lint.”
    “Nerdy.”
    “I wanted to be one with nature, so I started boiling grass and drinking it with a little bit of dirt for sugar.”
    I paused. “Okay, that’s weird.”
    “Thank you!” she said. Then, she got serious again. “My mom just loved me through all of it.”
    My arms tightened around her. I was afraid the wind, the water … life would take her away from me. I didn’t want her to blow away.
    “When she was in the hospital toward the end, she was in a lot of pain, but all she did was worry about me,” she paused, laughed a little. “She had no hair. Her head looked like a shiny egg and it was always cold. I tried to knit her a hat, but it was terrible, full of holes, but of course she wore it anyway.”
    I could hear her tears. My heart was aching like she had it between her fist.
    “She was always asking me, ‘ Are you hungry? Are you tired? Are you sad?’” Her voice cracked. I ran my hand up her back, trying to comfort her, knowing I couldn’t.
    “I would have switched places with her.”
    Her sob ripped me open, spilled everything out. I sat us both up and held her in my lap as she cried.
    Her pain was so jagged. You couldn’t touch her without it slicing through you too. I wanted to fold myself around her and absorb the rest of the blows life would deliver.
    That was the exact moment my heart threaded with hers. It was as if someone reached down with a sewing needle and stitched my soul to hers. How could one woman be so sharp and so vulnerable at the same time? Whatever would happen to her would happen to me. Whatever pain she would feel, I would feel it too. I wanted it — that was the surprising part. Selfish, self-centered Caleb Drake loved a girl so much he could already feel himself changing to accommodate her needs.
    I fell.
    Hard.
    For the rest of this life and probably the next.
    I wanted her — every last inch of her stubborn, combative, catty heart.

    A few months after that, I told her I loved her for the first time. I’d loved her for a while, but I knew she wasn’t ready to hear it. The minute the words were out of my mouth, she looked like she wanted to stuff them back in. Her nostrils started flaring and her skin flushed. She couldn’t say it back. I was disappointed, but not surprised. I knew she loved me, but I wanted to hear it. The more she rejected me, the more aggressively I fought to tear down her walls. I pushed too far sometimes … like the camping trip. I tried to prove to her that she wasn’t as autonomous as she thought. I wanted to show her that it was okay to be vulnerable and to want me. For someone like Olivia, sex was directly tied to her emotions. She tried to pretend that sex wasn’t important to her — that she could have a healthy relationship without it. But, her body was her playing card. The longer she held out with sex, the longer she held onto her power.
     
    When I walked into that tent, I was determined to strip her of her power.
    “You are master of your own body, yes?”
    She jutted her chin defiantly.
    “Yes.”
    “Then you won’t have a problem controlling it.”
    I could see the uncertainty in her eyes as I moved toward her. If she wanted to play games, I was going to play harder. She was out of her league. For the last year, I’d had to fight away every desire, every need I had. All I wanted was three words. Three words she wouldn’t give me, and now she was going to pay.
    She tried to walk away, but I grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her back.
    The restraint I’d held back for a year sat precariously on the edge of a cliff. I let it dangle there for a minute before I shoved it off and kissed her. I kissed her like I would have kissed an experienced girl. I kissed her