Twisted Lies (Twisted, #4)

by Ana Huang

The thought of interrupting someone midconversation gave me hives. It was awkward and rude and I would rather throw myself into an ice pool in the dead of winter.

“If you saw yourself the way other people see you,” he said quietly, “you’d never doubt again.”

I’ve always been the quiet, obedient daughter. The one who did everything my parents asked, who apologized even when I didn’t need to, and who bent over backward to make sure everyone was happy. But every person has a limit, and I’ve reached mine.

I may not be her first, but I would damn well be her last.

She’d lived her whole life feeling unwanted by those closest to her. I couldn’t make her feel the same way. Not when I needed her more than my next breath, and not when I would rather cut off my arm than deny her anything.

Despite what I’d said about love being a drug, Stella was my greatest high. A temptation with no escape. An obsession with no end. An addiction with no cure.

“I thought you don’t believe in love,” I teased. “You’re right. That was the wrong word.” Christian touched the small of my back while his eyes met mine in the mirror. “Because love is ordinary. Mundane. And you, Stella…” The soft rasp of the zipper filled the air as he dragged it up my spine in one exquisitely, torturously slow glide. My breath left my lungs at both the sensuality of the movement and the raw intimacy of his next words. “You’re extraordinary.”

“That’s fucking bullshit. I know she’s here.” I ditched the softer approach. “Step aside, Ava, or I’ll—” “Careful how you finish that sentence, Harper.”

And I loved every piece, no matter how flawed or broken he thought it was.