Page 13 of Wicked Truths

He leads me down the hall before saying, “I don’t think he’s been hiding it from you, Chessie. It’s public information.”

I roll my eyes. “Hiding, brushing over, not mentioning it, and omitting the information are all the same things. It’s lying.”

He stops abruptly and turns around, causing me to run into him. “It’s not like you’ve been home in a while.”

I narrow my eyes and stare at him for a moment before saying, “How do you know when I’ve been home?”

He ignores me and leads me the rest of the way down the hallway to his apartment.

There’s only one way he knows when I come home. Joey.

“I swear you and my brother gossip like high schoolers. Doesn’t it ever get old?”

He chuckles and shakes his head before unlocking his door.

“After you.” He pushes his door open to allow me to walk in first.

“Wow.” I whisper as I try to take in everything at once.

It smells clean and citrusy, but not a citrusy cleaner type of way. It’s a fresh and inviting smell, like he was just cutting up oranges.

Not wanting to track in any dirt, I take off my sandals and let my toes sink into the plush carpet.

It’s very modern and dark, but still open and welcoming. The dim blue lighting from the light stripon the ceiling gives his apartment an intimate and romantic vibe while the black walls and dark gray furniture scream bachelor pad.

The living room opens up to the kitchen, making the space feel much bigger than it really is. I feel like I’m in a house and not an apartment.

My gaze roams over the black granite countertops, black cabinets, and stainless steel appliances. It’s so much darker than the pictures online, leaving me wondering if Rhett renovated his apartment on his own.

“Did you change all of this? The pictures Darla showed me online were nothing like this.”

“I didn’t like all the white. It was too bright.”

I shrug. “I hope mine is bright and open, just like the pictures.”

I can’t tell Rhett the real reason I want a bright home, but it’s been a huge part of my life growing up.

Uncle Tony always told me that your house should be bright and welcoming because our lives were dark, cold, and hostile.

It made sense back then and stuck with me over the years. Everyone that was a part of Dad’s world had bright and welcoming houses.

“Coming home to a bright apartment means peace, and I need all the peace I can get.”

“Hmmph. Well, would you like me to show you around?”

“Uh, sure.”

He shows me around his apartment, starting with the areas I’ve already looked at.

“Here’s the living room and kitchen. The corner door in the kitchen is the pantry and the other door is the laundry room.”

He opens a door off of the living room. “This is the bathroom. There’s another door near the shower that leads into the bedroom.”

He turns around and heads away from his bedroom.

“Are you afraid to show me your bedroom? Is it a mess?” I tease, knowing that his bedroom was always the cleanest out of all his teammates.

He shakes his head and heads into the kitchen.