Call Me A Liar [Book 1] (Justin Bieber Love Story / Fan Fiction)

24

At least Patrick and I aren't expected to wear semi-formal attire this evening. I mean, I have to wear a sundress and he has to wear trousers, but I guess it could be worse.

My mom convinces me to wear heels, but then side-eyes me when she sees my chipped pink nail polish at the dinner table. I tuck my hands under my thighs in the hopes that by keeping them out of her sight, she'll forget she noticed them. It's worth a shot.

In my head, I plan on seeing Justin tonight. He doesn't know it yet, but I think I'll test the waters after dinner. Though I don't want to come off as codependent or prematurely clingy, I can't stop thinking about last night and I only want more.

Harvey, my dad, and Cole go on and on about a case they're working— surprisingly not Olivia Kinsey's— but it sounds like monotonous blabbering from my end of the table. I push my salad back and forth with my fork quietly while I listen in on my mother's conversation with Rachel.

It seems so shallow. They talk about the woman that does their hair, and how her husband was just diagnosed with cancer. They say they feel sorry for her, but that's after they express worry about who's going to do their hair while she's out tending to her dying husband.

I'm starting to wish I could somehow mute both conversations.

"When can we leave?" Patrick mumbles from beside me.

I look down at my phone discretely, seeing I have three unread texts from Justin in the process. He knows I'm going to be next to M.I.A. for the evening because of this dinner, but we haven't stopped talking through the entire day. Even still, I'm careful as I sneak text messages to him under the table.

But with my mom right next to me, I can't respond. So I lock my phone and turn to Patrick.

"It's barely five-thirty," I sigh. "After dad finishes his first after-dinner drink, we should be good. So maybe six-thirty?"

He huffs.

My mom gets up to help Rachel every now and again with dinner. I'm sure she'd like me to offer my help, but I use these moments to return texts to Justin as quickly as I can before she comes back.

We keep the conversation fairly light, but still flirtatious. I think we both know it wouldn't be fair to say a lot of the things we feel just yet, because the amount of physical distance between us wouldn't allow us to act on anything. It would only be torturous, which I'm starting to think that I don't mind.

I like the thought of Justin withholding himself from me and making me plead for him. I like the thought of not being able to touch him until I do anything he says because I would do anything he says. No questions asked. He has me in the palm of his hand already.

My body aches for him at this table. It's just not fair that I can't have him here beside me to alleviate some of that. I'd do anything to see him right now.

I don't tell him that, but I'd like to think he feels the same.

"When do you choose your roommates for the fall, Jane?" I hear Cole from the other side of the table.

Quickly, I look up from my phone to see the other man who has touched me in such intimate ways. Only with him, I had to borderline be drunk to do so. With Justin, it was quite the opposite.

There's no disdain for Cole. If anything, he's providing much more of a comforting presence than ever before. Sure, a part of me wishes that we didn't have to have sex in order to establish that, but it's nice that it's there.

"Not until the middle of August," I offer a smile. "So I have a little time."

He nods, his full lips are wet from the glass of water he's sipping. "How many people do you have to room with?"