Bad Liar

Chapter Twenty Five

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Dedication: Alaskanrain for your nice comment on the last chapter <3

Recap:

He scoops me back into his arms and I smile, loving the feel of this.

"Can we stay like this?" he asks me.

"Like what?" I ask him.

"Like this," he says, hugging me tighter. "Uncomplicated and together."

I lean back into him and smile.

"I hope so."

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"Don't go."

"I have to."

"No," he protests with a pout, reaching for my hands. "Stay."

"I can't," I laugh with a smile. "Mum will be worried."

He makes an adorable sad face and I bite my lip. "Please?"

"I would love to. You know that," I tell him with a sigh.

He gives me a tight hug. I smile into his chest as his warm arms wrap around me. "I'll drive you home."

"That's okay. The motorbike will bring up too many questions," I tell him with a sigh.

"I want to come see your mum, anyway. I want to talk to her."

"Is that a good idea?" I ask him, chewing at my lip.

"Yep. How about I borrow a car and I'll go get her a card and flowers?" he suggests.

"You don't need to do that."

"I want to."

"Who's car are you going to borrow?" I question as he shrugs a jacket over his shoulders.

"Well, I doubt Emily will say yes, after I threw her drink at her," he rolls his eyes. "I'll ask Damon."

"Is that the scary looking guy with tattoos?"

"That's the one," he nods, pulling his converse over his feet.

I watch him fumble around his room, getting everything he needs.

He pushes his hand through his hair and grins. "Ready?"

"Yeah," I laugh, shaking my head.

I step out of Miles' room, for the first time since last night. I try not to look down and screw my nose up at the rubbish lying on the floor. We get to the kitchen, where Damon is wandering around looking exhausted, carrying a garbage bag. He swipes his arm across the bench and slowly clears away the plastic cups, empty bottles and tobacco-packaged products from the bench.

"Morning," Miles greets him.

He gives a casual wave back, his eyes sweeping over me for a moment.

"I have a favour," Miles continues with an easy going smile. "I'll give you a tenner, if you let me borrow your car?"

"I need it," he says gruffly.

"I'll be half an hour, tops." Miles insists.

"Make it twenty," he mumbles.

"Fifteen?" Miles negotiates.

"Deal."

Miles withdraws notes from his wallet and throws them at Damon. They land on the table, where Damon greedily picks them up, shoving them into his ripped-jean pockets.