Merry Little Lies Read online

  MERRY LITTLE LIES

  The Heart Of The Holidays

  A Stand Alone Gay YA Series

  Addison Lloyd

  Copyright © 2020 by Addison Lloyd

  All right reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, excepts for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, or incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design by: Daniel Elijah Sanderfer

  Contents

  ONE: CIAN

  TWO: AARON

  THREE: CIAN

  FOUR: AARON

  FIVE: CIAN

  SIX: AARON

  SEVEN: CIAN

  EIGHT: AARON

  NINE: CIAN

  TEN: AARON

  ELEVEN: CIAN

  TWELVE: AARON

  THIRTEEN: CIAN

  FOURTEEN: AARON

  FIFTEEN: CIAN

  SIXTEEN: AARON

  SEVENTEEN: CIAN

  EIGHTEEN: AARON

  NINETEEN: SIX MONTHS LATER AARON AND CAIN

  NOTE TO THE READER

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  THE HEART OF THE HOLIDAYS SERIES

  ONE:

  CIAN

  The hospital room door was slightly open, mocking me, but I couldn’t take that final step inside. Hospitals in general freaked me out. And this one in particular. Dreary walls attempted to be cheery with bright colors dropped in unexpected places. Machines beeped continuously, and unexpected alarms stabbed at memories I’d tried to forget. And the smells. Chemicals mixed with odors meant to be private and not out there for the world to notice. I shook off the old wounds, months of sitting vigil and hoping against hope for a miracle and focused instead on why I was here now. This time was different.

  The door opened with a whoosh, and a woman in scrubs stopped short, almost running into me. “Sorry, didn’t see you there,” she said, tucking papers into her pockets and stepping aside so I could enter.

  I didn’t have a reason not to go in the room, or at least one I was willing to share. I mumbled a thank you and went in, trying to keep my heart from jumping out of my chest.

  “Cian!”

  While I was proud to come from an Irish family, I would have been happier with a name less traditional and more pronounceable. I answered to Cain, Seen, Seanne, and occasionally Sin—that was my favorite by far—because what else could I do? Kee-an was the correct pronunciation, and Rob was currently stretching the vowels beyond recognition.

  I shut my eyes, blocking out the sight of my friend helpless in a hospital bed, hooked up to various machines that fed him fluid and reported stats I couldn’t bear to look at. He was okay. In my head, I knew that. I’d talked to him this morning on the phone and he sounded fine. But a small part of me, the part that remembered that day five years ago like it was yesterday, worried that even glancing at the monitor would cause the steady beat of his heart to slow down to nothing but a straight line. My breakfast burrito threatened to make an appearance, and I swallowed hard.

  “Cian?”

  The concern in his voice brought me back to the here and now. I hadn’t been in a hospital since I was twelve, not even when my sister Emily had my niece Theo two years ago. I’d made it to the parking lot, but a panic attack kept me from going in.

  My best friend, Rob, almost dying forced me to face my fears. A ruptured appendix was serious stuff and resulted in emergency surgery. I still couldn’t step foot into the hospital until I knew he was going to be okay. Guilt burned in my stomach, but I couldn’t have come any sooner. Pacing in a waiting room, not knowing if he’d make it… I couldn’t do that again.

  “So, you gonna do it?” he said, reminding me of the conversation from this morning. Now that he was mending, he milked the attention. I didn’t care. He was going to be fine, and I was willing to do whatever he needed. Except when it came to the thing he actually wanted.

  I let out a slow breath. “No. No way.”

  “Dude, I get it,” he said, with only a slight whine. His hand moved to the bandage on his right side, as his face scrunched up. “Sorry. It’s hard to think with this pain.”

  “That’s probably the morphine.” I crossed my arms, trying to hide my smile. He couldn’t act as we’d discovered in last year’s high school play. Theater had been our life sophomore year. Rob participated more for the girls and the attention than the craft. This year was completely different. I only had one more year until I graduated, and I had more important things to focus on.

  Rob giggled, reminding me of why I was there. The need to get out of this hospital was an itch I couldn’t scratch. I’d probably agree to anything, just to get away.

  “You gotta do this for me, Ce,” he said. “Please.”

  “I’m not going out with your girlfriend. You remember the part where I’m gay?”

  “That’s the beauty of it, bro. You think I’d trust my straight friends with my girl?”

  I rubbed my temples, trying to ease pounding. “What does Carli think about this?”

  “Are you kidding? It was her idea. Remember Mama Mia?”

  Carli and I’d played opposite each other. Sure, I could pull off a straight Bill Anderson to her Rosie, but could I do it in the real world? Did I even want to?

  “Why?” I asked, getting to the heart of the matter. “Her boyfriend had an emergency appendectomy. I’m sure her aunt would understand.”

  He turned his face away, a blush on his cheeks.

  “What?”

  But he still hesitated, worrying the blanket with his fingers.

  “Rob?”

  “You know what her aunt is like.”

  I’d heard the stories. Carli’s aunt treated her like crap. Always judging her. Her aunt was from one of the richest families in Dublin. Which didn’t mean much since the small town I lived in was in Missouri, and not the beautiful city in Ireland where my gran grew up.

  I raised my eyebrows. Nothing about this scheme made sense.

  He shrugged in answer to my silent question. “Her mom wants her to go.”

  That surprised me since Carli’s mom and aunt didn’t get along.

  Rob’s sad eyes got to me. I wanted to make him laugh, which might only happen with another dose of morphine.

  I wasn’t getting the whole story. And I wasn’t sure, in his state, that Rob was the best person to tell it. But I didn’t dare call Carli. She’d have me agreeing and thinking it’d been my idea the whole time.

  “What are you leaving out?” I asked.

  “Okay, so there may have been a family thing at her aunt’s house I missed a few months back because I was sick.”

  “Or playing sick?”

  “The point is,” he said, glaring at me. “No one’s gonna buy I’m sick again. If you go as me, no one will know. It’s brilliant.”

  “It’s stupid. Don’t you think they’ll notice when next time you’re a whole new person?”

  “The focus won’t be on you or Carli. This thing’s a fundraiser. All they care about is rich people spending money. A quick in and out, eat a little food, say hi to Auntie Evil and done. Besides, no one pays attention to the teenagers.”

  “We don’t look anything alike.” It was my last defense, and I may have whined it. “I have red hair and you … don’t.”

  He yawned and gave a little shrug. “So, I decided to dye it. Red will be so last year by then.”

  I shook my head.
There was no sense in fighting it. The medicine would zonk him out soon, and I needed out of this hospital and back into sunshine like yesterday.

  I’d done this before. Played a part. Pretended to be straight. Been the perfect boyfriend. And this time it was just for one night.

  “Fine,” I said, with a long-suffering sigh, but he didn’t hear me. Rob was zonked out, mouth wide open and snoring loudly. I grabbed my phone from my back pocket. I needed to call Carli and get the details. Once I committed to a role, I was all in.

  But before I left for the sanctity of fresh air and blue skies, I snapped a quick pic of my best friend. You never knew when that would come in handy.

  ~~~

  “Stop picking at the buttons on your sleeves. Why are you so nervous?”

  “First of all, I’m wearing an outfit that requires buttons on my sleeves.”

  “Cian,” Carlie said sharply, slapping my hands away. “This is your thing. After the play last year, you were voted most likely to star opposite Zach Ephron in a gay version of High School Musical.”

  “You mean there’s a straight version?”

  “Relax.” She straightened my skinny tie and smoothed down the sleeves of the definitely not cheap dark grey suit. It perfectly complemented her gorgeous dress that sparkled like a queen’s tiara.

  At no point in my life had I ever owned anything this nice. We’d done all right, at least until a year ago, but my family never had money for anything extra. Too many hospital bills to pay.

  “I can’t believe Rob’s suit fits me.”

  “Why do you think I chose you?”

  “I thought it was my witty banter, good looks, and ability to kiss on command.”

  “It’s more your ability to stop on command.” She stood back to admire her handiwork. “You’ll do,” she said, wrinkling her nose adorably.

  Good thing I was gay. And it made sense. Not that any of their straight male friends would have taken advantage of the situation, but dancing, flirting, and pretending to be in love could complicate things. And they were right. This was my thing. I loved acting and art, especially art, even though I wouldn’t be pursuing either in college. I needed a more practical major. One that would bring me a stable job. With money. And healthcare. I didn’t need passion and creativity. Those things were nice but not something you could risk your future on.

  A year ago, I’d been like all the other kids in my high school, caring only about passing my finals, hanging out with my friends, and finding a cute boy to kiss. Okay, maybe not like all the other kids.

  I’d changed course so abruptly my high school counselor cornered me one day after calculus. I shrugged off her concerns. I had no room in my life for things I’d once cared about like being in Theater and Art club and boys. Especially not boys. Love was not the answer to everything, or anything really. I’d found that out the hard way. Mrs. Collins wasn’t against me majoring in accounting instead of art when I went to college, but she had spent the rest of my study hall explaining why I shouldn’t shut myself off from the possibilities of life. I nodded at all the right times, but my mind was made up. Watching my brother die from the cancer consuming his body destroyed me. But the aftermath…my parents pretending it was fine until my dad walked out last Christmas Eve, my mom sobbing in her room and thinking I couldn’t hear, losing our house, and hoping we had money at the end of the month so the heat didn’t get turned off. Those things were my focus and the pressure of keeping my life together numbed me to everything else.

  Acting like I was fine had become my new normal and my most challenging role yet.

  ~~~

  Carli grabbed my hand that wandered once again to my sleeve. “Why are you so nervous?”

  I put on my most convincing smile. “I usually have more time to prepare. I know nothing about your family except your aunt is judgy and rich.”

  “Don’t forget religious and homophobic.”

  I stared at her. “You’re telling me this now?”

  “You’re straight, remember?” she said with a wink. “All you need to know is that my aunt helps raise money for local art lfeague, and she wants me at her stupid gala so she can embarrass me in front of my boyfriend she’s never met.”

  “Rob would be here if he could,” I said. “If only to see you in this dress.”

  She smiled brightly, wiping away the worry around her eyes. Rob almost didn’t make it to surgery. He was better now. And although there was still a risk of infection, it was low. I pushed away thoughts of my brother Teddy. That was a different situation and I only had to remind myself of that a hundred times each day.

  “You’ve been preparing for this role for the last ten years, Cian. You know Rob better than anyone. Just pretend you’re him. And before you ask any more questions about my family, do you really think Rob remembers any of that stuff?”

  I laughed. She was right. Rob meant well, and he’d listen to all her stories, but the most he remembered was that her mom’s sister had money, liked artsy stuff, and was a jerk to Carli.

  “Ready, Rob?”

  I kissed her cheek and wrapped my arm around her. “Ready, babe. Let’s mingle with some rich and snotty art lovers.”

  Our attire, and the fact that it was a gala, gave me the impression the event would be fancier. Rooms with plain white walls flowed into each other displaying paintings, sculptures, and other works of art being auctioned off. The building included a baby grand piano, a main bar, and several smaller bars with snack tables. Outside, to capture the overflow of partiers, sparkly lights had been threaded through the trees and a stage had been built for the presentations occurring later. The mayor was giving a speech, according to Carli, and presenting the artist of the year. People were either crazy dressed up or dressed up crazy and the whole cultural vibe was spot on. Not long ago I would have been in heaven checking out every single piece on display. Instead, I barely looked around. This wasn’t my life anymore.

  Carli and I toured the rooms, commenting on the various outfits and meeting more people than I could possibly remember. And the best part was, as Rob, I wasn’t expected to.

  “Love those boots,” Carlie said, nodding toward a girl with above knee black boots, a gauzy long skirt with a slit off to the side and a barely there white top.

  “Gorgeous. But what about those?” I discreetly pointed to the girl next to her. “Your thoughts on sandal boots?”

  She scrunched up her nose. “Not so much.”

  “Agreed.”

  An hour later, I was actually having fun. The food tasted amazing and the air practically vibrated with possibilities. I allowed myself the luxury of exploring some of the art. It would have been rude not to. The artists poured their souls, and in one instance actual beer caps, into their creations. The urge to create, to lose myself in an activity not wholly practical, sparked a yearning that couldn’t be placated by adding numbers together. Not enough to change my classes next semester or pick up my brushes again, but maybe for tonight I could enjoy being someone else. Or someone closer to the real me. Music playing outside trickled into the room, blending in with the chattering of voices. I swung Carli in my arms and kissed her cheek lightly. She laughed, pulling me close.

  “Don’t overdo it,” she whispered. “Rob has to live up to this image.” But her eyes sparkled as she grabbed another soda from a passing server.

  The upcoming speech from Mayor Rodgers drew the crowd outside, and Carli moved to join them. When I didn’t follow, she stopped. “Aren’t you coming?”

  “I’ll pass, but you go on.” Was it wrong to want some time to myself?

  Carli studied me for a second before nodding. “Okay, Rob,” she said, pointing her finger at me. “Be good.”

  As I watched her walk away, some of my giddiness went with her. While she was close by, I understood my part, and it was easy to play. But alone, I felt… well, alone. I’d had a few boyfriends over the years, but nothing serious. Now I focused on work and classes. My scholarships and grants depended o
n me keeping my grades up. My mom depended on me to work my part time job at Harper’s Drug store. Not that she would accept money from me. But having my own money meant I didn’t need to bother her with for those little things that added up such as lab fees, school trips, and college application fees. I didn’t have the luxury of parties, boyfriends, or any distractions. And the fact that I was pretending at everything this evening was sobering.

  I pushed those thoughts away as I explored the emptying rooms. In one room, a narrow wall jutted out as if its only purpose was to highlight the painting prominently displayed there. The painting, full of Cobalt and Prussian blues, haunted me, pulling the pieces of my soul apart. Splashes of Titanium Buff and a mixture of what appeared to be the Green shade of Phthalo blue and Titanium White were spread throughout, sparking hope. I swallowed the lump in my throat, fighting against a sudden burst of emotion.

  The picture called to that part of me that longed to create. I was excited and frustrated. It was like being at a buffet when you’re on a diet. It was so much easier to escape the yearning when there was nothing to tempt me.

  Everything about this painting intrigued me. I tried to take it all in, backing up before I even realized I’d been moving, until I hit the wall behind me.

  No, not a wall. A person. A firm hand pressed against my back, absorbing my movements, giving me strength, and holding me in place. Which was ridiculous. I didn’t know this person. This guy. A scent of wood and vanilla surrounded me.

  “Hold up.” His deep voice sounded youngish. And amused. Which was a relief since he sounded taller than me and could probably kick my ass. I really didn’t want to make a scene in front of Carli’s already disapproving family. Not that I cared about their feelings, but Carli would be hella pissed at me if I messed this up.

  His hand traveled from my back to my arm as he moved to stand next to me. I could have stepped forward to make it easier, but I couldn’t get my feet to move.

  “Sorry,” I muttered finally, not sure what else to say, as I turned to face him. The guy was gorgeous and in stylish clothes that fit him in all the right places. I had to focus on slowly breathing in and out. Two breathtaking experiences in less than a minute had overloaded my senses.