Your Fault (Culpable Book 2)
Your Fault: Chapter 7

The tension in the car was unbearable. He was enraged. I could tell. I could see it in his eyes.

I understood why he didn’t like the idea of me leaving for a month, but what was I supposed to do? My mother had organized the trip, she’d even paid for it, and I couldn’t turn her down. She was my mother, after all. We’d always talked about me graduating, about college, about how we’d go shopping together for furniture for my dorm room. We’d even joked about going backpacking through Europe to share a last summer together while I was still her little girl, as she liked to say. A part of me wanted to take that trip; I didn’t want to lose the chance to be alone with the woman who had given me life along with everything I had… I couldn’t just reject her outright.

But my body also ached when I thought about how I wouldn’t see Nicholas for four whole weeks. I had plans with him; I, too, had wanted to spend every second of every day in his apartment, even more now that I knew his work was piling up and that his trips to San Francisco would last longer than the two weeks the last one had.

I looked over at him. His eyes were fixed on the road, his hands clutching the steering wheel with fury. I was scared of whatever might be happening in his head, but I didn’t know what to do or say to keep him from getting angry with me.

“Are you not even going to talk to me?” I asked, gathering my courage. In lieu of looking at me, he ground his teeth, and the veins tensed in his neck.

“I’m trying not to ruin your night, Noah,” he said a second later.

Trying?

“Nicholas, you can’t blame me for all this. You can’t make me not go. This is my mother we’re talking about!”

“And I’m your boyfriend!” he screamed. There it was—we were going to end up arguing, and that was the very last thing I’d wanted that night. As my nerves frayed further, I wondered what more there was he wanted to say.

“Don’t do this to me. Don’t make me choose between my mother and you,” I begged him, trying not to whine or shout.

Nicholas sped up so fast, I had to grip the door handle. I caught a glimpse of the Four Seasons. A long line of cars waited in front of the valet stand, and lots of people I knew were there with their boyfriends and girlfriends. I envied the smiles on their faces. Mine was gone, for a change.

Nick stopped behind a Mercedes and looked over at me.

“If I were given a choice, I would always choose you,” he said so coldly, it chilled my blood. I looked at him incredulously. His tone hurt, and I felt guilty because of what he was suggesting. I shouldn’t have to choose between the two people I loved most in the world, especially because I loved them in two totally different ways: I loved my mother above all else, but the love I felt for Nicholas was impossible to explain; it was a love that hurt. I adored him, but his intensity frightened me. I got out, turning back around when I realized he was still in the driver’s seat.

“You’re n-not going to stay?” I asked, voice trembling. Shit! There I was again, feeling abandonment, dependency… I didn’t want him to leave me; I needed him next to me; I needed to share that night with him, a night when my boyfriend was supposed to be with me.

He looked away toward the people climbing the steep stairs toward reception.

“I don’t know. I need to be by myself,” he hissed in that tone I hated, the one that reminded me of the old Nicholas.

I could feel the rage overtaking me. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair for him to take this out on me when I’d had nothing to do with it.

“Fuck you, Nicholas! We were supposed to spend the night together for the first time in weeks, and you’re ready to waste the opportunity.” My anger reaching a fever pitch, I shouted, “Just go! I’ll have way more fun without you!”

The jerk didn’t even wait to see me go inside. Making the tires squeal—making my tires squeal, because it was my car—he sped up and disappeared down a side street, leaving me with no options for getting away if I got tired of the stupid party.

I walked over to the steps, where my classmates were chatting excitedly. I could have joined any number of groups there, but I wasn’t in the mood to pretend I was all happy. I wasn’t: I was wounded. Wounded and pissed.

“Hey, Morgan!”

I turned around and saw Lion’s smiling face. My eyes lit up. The last time I’d seen him, he’d been distant and cold. I was happy to see him so happy. Just as Jenna had become my best friend and confidante, so I’d grown to really care about Lion: he was great, caring, kind, and never intimidated me. I’d thought he would at first, especially because he was Nicholas’s friend, but nothing could be further from reality. Lion was a sweetie. He walked over, and I hugged him.

“Congratulations!” he said.

“Thanks!” I replied.

“Where’s Nick?” he asked, looking around, and my smile immediately disappeared.

“He left. We had a fight,” I said, and to my surprise, Lion laughed, provoking a bitter stare from me.

“I’ll give him half an hour, and he’ll come crawling back, and you won’t get him off of you… That’s the longest he could stand to be away from you,” he said, ignoring my irritation and taking out his cell phone.

“Good for him. I’d just as soon he stayed gone.”

Lion rolled his eyes with his attention on his screen. “Jenna will be here in ten. You want to go on in with me?” he asked.

I nodded. It should have been Nicholas there celebrating with me, but screw him, he’d missed his chance. I’d gotten dressed up especially for him, I’d even bought underwear at this mega-expensive shop Jenna had told me about, and now he would never see it. I was so bitter and disappointed that I had smoke coming out of my ears.

The vestibule was impressive. The people were packed in like sardines, and lots of parents were there, too, having drinks. A few guys in uniform showed us where to go, and Lion followed their directions with me behind him. Everyone was laughing and talking, and then we reached the terrace.

It was spectacular! This must have been the greatest graduation party in history! Under the open sky, there were tall tables with green satin tablecloths surrounding a dance floor. The floral arrangements were exquisite: white peonies, if I wasn’t mistaken. The waiters in their elegant uniforms came and went with trays of canapés and glasses of something or other—I didn’t know what, but it couldn’t be alcohol.

Lion was as fascinated and intimidated as I was. Neither of us had grown up surrounded by such luxuries, and I’m sure we both felt out of place among all those rich, distinguished people.

“They sure know how to throw a party,” he said.

“You’re telling me,” I agreed, bowled over by the beauty of that spectacle. Pale white lights lit up the terrace, and the aroma of the flowers was bewitching. The party music hadn’t started yet, and I could still hear the captivating sounds of the violin and cello players softly welcoming us.

“There you guys are!” a familiar voice said behind us. We turned to replace Jenna with a huge smile on her face. “Can you believe how many people are here? What do you think? Did I overdo it? Or were you expecting more? Don’t tell me you don’t like it!”

Jenna had been one of the people responsible for organizing the party. She’d spent the better part of the year on it, and I had to say, she’d outdone herself. She was crazy if she thought we didn’t like it.

“What are you saying?” I asked. “It’s incredible!”

I hugged her, admiring her beauty. It was in her genes, of course. Her mother, Caroline Tavish, had been Miss California in her younger days. That title had opened doors for her, all right, since it made one of the richest men in America want to marry her. Jenna’s father was a millionaire, with oil rigs all over the world, and he was hardly home more than two days a month, but according to Jenna, that didn’t mean he didn’t love her mother like crazy… And why wouldn’t he? She was the kind of woman who would leave any man breathless. Jenna had inherited her body and her height, but her face was warmer, sweeter, more childlike than her mother’s, her beauty less stern and imposing.

“I can’t believe we’ve graduated!” she said, leaping into Lion’s arms and leaving a luscious kiss on his lips. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in close. They said something, I don’t know what, and Jenna turned to face me with a furrowed brow.

“Where’s your Nicholas?”

I don’t know why she was so fixated on calling him that. Nicholas wasn’t mine, was he? Honestly, at that moment, I had no idea.

“I don’t know and I don’t care,” I responded. But of course I did.

I didn’t understand why, but Jenna always defended him whenever we had a fight or argument. Maybe she’d known him all her life, but she was my friend—she should be taking my side and defending me.

“You outdid yourself, Jenna,” I said.

The night started with a bang. Someone—or more than just someone—had brought along alcohol, and in less than an hour, all those present were drunk and stumbling over the dance floor. The lights started blinking, and I found myself surrounded by people. Siblings, cousins, friends of the graduates were in attendance. It started to weird me out when I felt a bunch of guys I didn’t know rubbing up on me and trying to get me to dance. I pushed them away and walked off the dance floor. I was sweating, and I stood to one side, where a bartender was serving shots to the older people. I’d already had a few drinks. I wasn’t drunk, but I was buzzing.

“You want one?” a girl asked me when the bartender walked away for more ice. On the table were crystal glasses with a thick pale liquid in them over ice.

“What are those?” I asked suspiciously.

“White Russians.”

If she’d said Red Frenchmen, it wouldn’t have mattered. I had no idea what that meant.

“It’s vodka, Kahlúa, and cream. Delicious. They say it’s an aphrodisiac.” She batted her eyes. Was she flirting with me?

Just what I needed, a girl hitting on me! But the thought of coffee was enough for me to forget her sexual orientation and grab one of the drinks off the table. I put the straw in my mouth and tried it.

“Oh my God, it’s delicious!” I shouted. The girl laughed.

The vodka was hardly noticeable. It didn’t burn at all; it tasted like a coffee-flavored milkshake.

I looked closer at the girl. She wasn’t familiar at all. She must have been a friend or relative of one of the graduates. Her black hair was pulled back in a ponytail on the top of her head.

I went on drinking my new favorite cocktail. Jenna was dancing with Lion on the dance floor. Without realizing it, I drank two more and fell into conversation with the girl, whose name was Dana. She was nice, and either I was just drunk, or she was incredibly funny. One of her jokes made me laugh so hard that I was unable to react when she grabbed the back of my neck and planted a kiss on my lips. It was so quick and so unexpected that I needed a second to push her away.

“What are you doing?” I asked, feeling woozy.

She just laughed. “I wanted to taste the vodka on your lips,” she said.

The situation was so surreal that I didn’t know what to say.

“I’ve got a boyfriend,” I told her a few seconds later, or maybe it was minutes—I don’t know. The alcohol was coursing through my brain. Had I just kissed a girl?

“It was only a peck. Relax,” she replied, her eyes turning quickly to something or someone behind me.

I shivered.

I could feel him even before I turned to see if it was him. There Nicholas was, his bright eyes seeing straight through me even from far away. He hurried over.

“You should go,” I told Dana hurriedly. I was afraid for her life.

She chuckled, grabbed her White Russian, and walked onto the dance floor, disappearing just as Nick came around in front of me.

“So you like girls now?” he said, looking like he was trying to remain calm.

I didn’t let him intimidate me.

“Maybe?” I told him, irritated. I was furious with him. He’d left me hanging on the day of my graduation, surrounded by people I didn’t want to see, feeling alone, and to top it off, someone had kissed me without my permission.

“What are you drinking?” he asked, taking the glass out of my hands.

I thought he was going to set it down, but instead, he drank it. I should have been angrier, but already my only thought was to savor that liquid on his lips, just as the girl had done with me. A White Russian on those lips…delicious…

“You know how much alcohol this has in it?” he said after draining the glass and setting it down behind me. I wanted to feel him out; I wasn’t sure what kind of mood he was in… I mean, I knew he was angry, but his eyes harbored something else.

“I guess a lot, because if I were sober, I’d have already told you to go to hell.”

He leaned his head to one side, observing me, and brought his body close. Without touching me, he placed his palms on the table behind me, imprisoning me between his arms.

I couldn’t breathe. His sky-blue eyes were seeking out mine.

“There’s no reason for you to be mad, Noah,” he said, now serious. “I’m the one getting hurt here. You’re going off to Europe on vacation.”

“I repeat: it wasn’t my idea.”

Nick took a deep breath and stepped back, giving me space.

“So we’re at a dead end,” he said with a poker face.

Part of me knew he wasn’t entirely wrong to be upset, but I wasn’t ready to admit that. I didn’t want to calm down. I didn’t want to be understanding… I wasn’t happy with the situation either. Going to Europe with my mother wasn’t in my plans, and it made me angry and sad that I couldn’t spend that month with Nick. My mother was the one I was really mad at, but Nick was there, and I had to get my anger out on someone.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have come back. You said you didn’t want to ruin my night, but now you’re doing it.”

Brow furrowed, Nick asked, “You want me to go?”

Was there a touch of disappointment in those eyes?

“What’s for sure is I don’t want to stand here arguing with you.”

Looking me over, he responded, “I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink, smarty-pants.”

Feeling full of myself, I glared at him, reached across the table, filled a glass from the punch bowl, and downed it. It had been spiked so much that the liquor in it burned my eyes, but it was worth it to see Nick’s furious face.

“You’re acting like an idiot,” he said, “and the person who’s going to have to deal with it later is me.”

I shrugged and walked off toward my friends on the dance floor, joining them without looking back. At some point, I dropped my glass, and it spilled on someone’s feet, but I didn’t care. Jenna came over to dance with me. After twisting and shouting until my stomach was upset, I stopped, looking around.

I knew Nick hadn’t left. He’d been staring at me the whole time. I hadn’t expected that. Certainly not when we were arguing.

At some point, I stumbled, and an arm grabbed me around the waist. A strong, muscular, attractive one…Nick’s.

I turned around and clung to him. “I see you’re still here,” I said.

“And I see you can barely stand. If your goal for tonight was to get under my skin, congratulations, you did it.”

“I don’t know about getting under your skin, but I’d be more than happy to get under those clothes you’re wearing or between some sheets…”

Nick didn’t laugh. He seemed to be trying to figure out what to do with me.

I tried to caress his neck and hair the way I knew he liked, but he grabbed my wrists and stopped me.

“Let me take you upstairs, Noah,” he said. Looking around, I saw other couples had had the same idea.

“Okay. Sounds fun…” I said with a grin.

Nick exhaled a breath and led me out.

“Fun’s the last thing it’s going to be,” he said to himself, but I heard him perfectly.

Had he been trying to play it cool because other people were around?

Dammit!