How to Tell a Lie by Delphine Dryden

fuck am I even thinking? This is crazy. Top floor, it’s the door to the left of the stairs. This is probably the biggest mistake of my life.” There was no response. “Seth? Hello?”
    The line went dead, and Allison listened to the dial tone for a few seconds in disbelief before turning the phone off and reaching for a dishtowel. She dried her hands and then leaned against the counter, trying to take stock of things.
    He would be there within a short time. She wasn’t sure how far away he lived, but it was a fairly small town and he would likely drive quickly. Twenty minutes? The apartment was sort of a mess but she didn’t have time to clean. Did she have time for a shower? A bath? The water was already warm.
    Was she out of her damn mind? James had left her a mess and she had just gotten things reasonably back together. Now she was flinging that stability out the window because she was horny for some guy she met on the internet? True, he wasn’t really just a random guy from the internet, and he was the polar opposite of James in just about every way. But she barely knew him.
    She barely knew him—and she had engaged in both cyber and phone sex with him on the evening of the day they had met. At least, the day they had met in person. How was that wise? How was that even something she would have ever done? She hardly knew herself anymore. This man was simply not safe.
    There was definitely not time for a shower. For all she knew, he lived down the street and would be there any second. The bedroom. She could make sure the bed was made, at least. Resolved to do that much, Allison launched herself from the counter and raced through the living room to the bedroom.
    A few quick tugs were all it took to tidy the bed, which she had half-made that morning. Allison looked at the quilted red velvet coverlet blankly, trying to figure out what to do next. She looked down at her clothes. Baggy gray sweatpants, cinched and rolled over at the waist because she had borrowed them from Lindy and never given them back, and Lindy was a size larger than she was. A tiny, tummy-baring t-shirt that Tess had given her, in theory for working out. Allison only wore it to sleep in or when she was lounging around. A good four inches of midriff were displayed between the t-shirt’s hem and the low-slung waistband of the sweats.
    No time to change. She ran back toward the living room and looked around frantically, trying to decide which part of the disaster to attack first. Finally deciding to reach for the closest thing, Allison gathered the laundry back into the basket and hauled the whole thing into her room. The bedroom closet was just large enough to hold it. She had to lean on the door to make it close.
    A few minutes later the knock came. Allison was halfway back through another trek to the living room, this time with an armload of two coats and a backpack. She stopped mid-stride and stared at the door as the sound repeated. Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear the swishing thump in her ears.
    “Just a minute,” she squeaked out, and opened the miniscule coat closet just far enough to fling the items inside and close the door again in one swift move. With the next step she was at the door, unlocking it and turning the knob with the same frantic haste.
    Seth was on the other side, looking bemused to find her so frazzled. He ducked his head and looked at her over the rims of his glasses, perhaps hoping the change of focus would present a more coherent picture.
    “Are you coming in or not?” Allison knew she sounded defensive, almost belligerent, but she no longer cared. The thing was as good as done, or it would be. She would deal with the aftermath in the morning.
    “That was my plan, yes.” He looked a little irritated with himself, a little embarrassed, more than a little determined. “Are you all right with that?”
    She knew she was giving herself away even as she claimed she was fine. Her nose itched, she was blinking