A TASTE OF SIN
She stared at me for a long second—searching, like she could peel the truth off my skin if she looked hard enough.
Then she snorted, sharp and bitter. “You know what? Fine. Keep your secrets, Liam. But don’t act like you’re the only one who gets to have them.”
She yanked the passenger door open, dropped into the seat, slammed it hard enough the whole car rocked.
I got in, started the engine. Neither of us spoke again until I pulled out of the lot.
Halfway down the block, she muttered, almost too quiet to hear:
“You’re not the only one who’s been hiding shit, you know.”