Lies I Told by Michelle Zink

teasing his lips. “I do?”
    â€œYeah.” I spoke softly, not wanting to break the spell of the moment we’d somehow fallen into.
    An ear-splitting crack echoed across the beach, and I jumped, looking back toward the light of the bonfire.
    â€œWhat was that?”
    Logan got up, brushing off his jeans. “Firecrackers. Those dumb-asses are going to get beach patrol down here.” He reached out a hand. “Come on, we better go back.”
    He pulled me to my feet, holding on to my hand a little longer than necessary.
    We headed back down the beach, walking close to the waterline, the waves rushing up and over our feet. We wereabout halfway back to the bonfire when he stopped to pull off his hoodie.
    He reached around me, placing the sweatshirt on my shoulders. His fingers sent a ripple of electricity where they brushed my bare skin.
    â€œWhat’s this for?” I asked, looking up into his eyes.
    â€œYou were shivering,” he said.
    â€œI was?”
    â€œYeah.” He squeezed my shoulders and hesitated, like he wanted to pull me into his arms. Instead he started walking again.
    I matched his stride. “Thank you.”
    When we got back to the fire, everyone was packing up, hurriedly folding up beach chairs and stuffing sweatshirts and towels into backpacks. Liam and Raj were carrying two of the coolers toward the path that led to the parking lot.
    Someone pointed down the beach. “Here they come!”
    I turned and saw two white lights bobbing on the sand in the distance.
    â€œWhat’s that?” I asked Logan.
    â€œBeach patrol. They comb the beach on ATVs,” he explained. “Better head out. They’re always trying to bust us for drinking and smoking.”
    My heart raced. I couldn’t afford to be questioned, even by beach patrol. It would be a total violation of the leave-no-proof rule, not to mention risky if someone had caught onto us for the job in Phoenix. And there were only two ways off the beach—up the cliff or toward the approaching ATVs.
    Something tugged on my arm. When I turned, Parker was staring into my eyes.
    â€œLet’s go, Grace.”
    â€œI have to get my stuff. I’ll meet you by the path.”
    Parker nodded silently, hurrying away as I took off Logan’s sweatshirt and gave it back to him. “Thanks for the walk. I had a nice time.”
    â€œMe too.” His eyes lit up. “And hey! I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    â€œYou will?”
    â€œThe barbecue? At my house? My dad said he invited you.”
    I smiled. “Right. I’ll see you there.”
    â€œGrace!” Parker barked from the rocks near the path.
    I pulled my gaze from Logan’s and ran.

Sixteen
    The Fairchilds lived high upon the peninsula. My dad drove, telling us how beautiful the club was and how Warren Fairchild had already put in a recommendation for his membership.
    I sat next to Parker in the back, thinking about Logan. I hadn’t stopped thinking about him, actually, since the bonfire the night before. As Warren and Leslie’s only child, Logan was key to the con. My ability to get close to him could be the difference between getting out clean with Warren Fairchild’s gold and being arrested.
    But I wasn’t thinking about the con. Not the way I should have been. I was thinking about Logan. About how real he was, vulnerable and strong all at the same time. About how he’d looked at me on the beach, like he knew all my secrets and didn’t care, and how his fingers had sent a spark acrossmy bare shoulders when he’d given me his sweatshirt.
    About what he would think of me if he knew the truth.
    We pulled onto a private street, and the ocean and sky seemed to open up around us. The Fairchilds’ house sat alone at the end of the road. It was a Spanish-style structure, and smaller than I’d expected. It looked old, not like one of the giant reproductions I’d gotten used to