Your Fault (Culpable Book 2)

“Are you serious?”

Go live with him? I’d need to think about that calmly because I could tell from looking at him that he was serious.

“Please,” he said, putting his hands on my cheeks. “Please say yes.”

That was too much. I couldn’t be in that situation just then. I got down from the counter and walked toward the bedroom.

“Nicholas, I’m eighteen years old,” I said. “Eighteen.” I repeated it in case he didn’t get it. As anxiety took hold of my insides, the thought that we weren’t at the same stage, that he needed more than I could give, scared me in a way it never had before.

“You’re way more mature than any girl my age. You don’t even seem like an eighteen-year-old. You know that, Noah. If you lived here, we could see each other every single day, every night.” He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. “Do you not want to live with me? Is it that?”

Ugh. How could I explain to him that it had nothing to do with wanting or not wanting? How could I tell him I was just too young to take that step without getting scared? Or that what actually worried me was that we would live together and he’d realize how fucked up I still was because of all the things that had happened to me in the past, that he’d end up getting tired of me or, worse, dropping me?

“Of course I want to,” I said, approaching him cautiously. He looked at me, not moving a muscle. “What I’m afraid of is we’ll go too fast and end up ruining what we have.”

He shook his head. “That’s ridiculous, Noah. You and I can’t go too fast; we’re already moving at the speed of light. That’s just how things are with you and me. You know me—you’re perfectly aware I would never have even considered taking this step with anyone but you. And if I’m doing it, it’s because I know it’s right for us, it’s what we need, because I can’t be far from you…and you can’t be far from me either.”

Calm down, I told myself, calm down… Living with Nicholas…it would be like a dream, it really would, seeing him every day, loving him every day, always feeling safe with him…

“I’m scared I won’t be what you expect,” I admitted, my voice quavering.

His body slackened, he stretched out, and his finger traced a line across my cheek. As his eyes roved my face slowly, I felt he was savoring every one of my features.

“I want to see that face of yours when I wake up,” he confessed, and now his finger stopped on my lower lip. “I want to kiss your lips before I go to sleep,” he continued in a hoarse voice. “I want to feel you every time I go to bed. To dream with you in my arms. To watch you while you sleep. To take care of you every second of the day.”

I looked up and saw in his eyes that each of those words was coming directly from his heart. He was serious. He loved me. He wanted me with him. I felt my heart speed up; something inside me swelled with happiness. I was melting—how could I love him so much? How could I give him so much of myself, and why did it feel so natural?

“I’ll do it. I’ll come live with you,” I said, not even believing my own words.

A radiant smile spread across his face. “Say it again,” he asked me.

“I’ll come live with you. We’ll live together.”

No more nightmares, no more fears. With him next to me, I would slowly recover. With him, I could get over anything. He touched my face, pulled me close, covered my lips with his. I felt his smile. I made him happy, it was true, I could see it, and I loved it.

“God, I love you so much!” he shouted, squeezing me around the waist. I hugged him and laughed as I looked over his shoulder and saw N staring at us from the end of the hallway, small, black, with glowing eyes. The three of us would live together. Nick, N, and me.

Unfortunately, the next few days flew by. My mother had no idea I’d be going to live with Nick as soon as our trip was over, and I wasn’t planning on telling her until I absolutely had to. He had been in a good mood, but it got worse and worse as the date of my departure came closer and the idea of me being gone for a month became more palpable. He was taking my going to live with him seriously: he had emptied half his closet and his dresser so I would have space for my clothes, which I took over on the sly when I visited him. The apartment, which had been a little too macho for my taste, was now turning into something more welcoming: we’d gone together to buy colorful cushions, and I’d made him change out the dark sheets in his room for some white ones that made the place look homier. Nick was happy. For all he cared, I could paint the place pink. As long as I was there, it didn’t matter to him. I had taken some of my favorite books, and my mother seemed not to have noticed.

The city was already getting hot. Gone were the days when you needed a sweater or long pants. Nick had taken me to the beach almost every day. We had swum, and I had tried unsuccessfully to learn how to surf…but still, the day came when Mom and I had to go, and we wouldn’t be back till mid-August.

My God, I was so excited, but I didn’t know what I’d do being separated from Nick for so long!

We were in my room, with a suitcase open on my bed. Nick was sitting at my desk, playing with N and deliberately ignoring me. He’d been crabby for two days. He didn’t want to hear a word about my trip, he certainly didn’t want to talk about it, but there I was, ready to leave in a couple of hours, and he’d need to get used to the idea. He had taken things out of my backpack and put them away five times without me realizing it. He’d even hidden my passport, which I found three days later among his work papers. He had threatened to tie me to the bed if I didn’t stay. I had tried my best to ignore his attempts to sabotage the trip because I knew he was upset about it, as much as or maybe more than I was.

“I’m warning you, the heat in Spain is awful, and you don’t like shellfish, so you’re going to hate it. Plus, the Eiffel Tower’s overrated… You get to the top, and you’re like, is that it? Don’t expect much out of England either. It’s not special, the weather’s garbage, and the people are stiff and boring…”

“Are you going to keep being a pain in the ass?” I cut him off, losing my cool. I walked over and took N out of his hands. He’d bought him a stupid toy that he was crazy about. Nick’s arms were covered in scratches.

I tried to turn back around, but he pulled me and N into his lap. The cat was almost squashed between us.

Seemingly unsure of whether he should say what was on his mind, Nick finally asked me not to go. I rolled my eyes. Not again.

“Go, N, sic him!” I said to the cat, lifting him and placing him in front of Nick’s face. “Or no, better behave, actually. You don’t want this psycho throwing you down a drainpipe.” I cuddled him and kissed him on his fuzzy dark head.

Tense, Nicholas said, “So now you’re ignoring me?”

“Once I’ve answered the same question ten thousand times, yeah, I think I’ll move on to ignoring you,” I replied. But I couldn’t be offended at that grimace: I would miss those eyes, those hands, that body, all of it…! “I don’t like to repeat myself.”

My words had gotten to him, obviously.

“Put that fucking cat down and look at me,” he grumbled, taking N out of my hands and placing him on the floor. I met his eyes, ready for a fight.

“I don’t want you doing anything stupid or dangerous,” he warned me, holding on to my hips, almost as if he thought he could keep me there that way. “Don’t drink, and don’t start conversations with strangers.”

“Are you listening to yourself?” I jerked away. Why did he have to be so jealous and controlling? I couldn’t stand it. Did he not trust me, dammit?

I started stuffing things into my suitcase without looking at him, then tugged on the zipper, and…dammit! It wouldn’t close!

He pushed past me and tugged it until it unsnagged.

With resignation, he admitted, “I’m going to miss you.” He looked crestfallen. He continued: “What am I going to do without you?”

I tried to keep calm as I stood on tiptoe to get a better view of him.

“Before you know it, I’ll be back, and you’ll have me all to yourself. And once I’m back, I’ll move in,” I promised him, hoping that would fix his mood.

He rubbed my arms up and down their length. How could his attitude change so quickly?

“I love you, Freckles. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. It makes me sick to think I won’t be there to take care of you while you’re away.”

I felt something warm inside me. I was going to miss him, all right. Terribly.

I kissed him tenderly on the lips. “I love you, too. I’m going to be fine…”

In his eyes, I could see those words weren’t enough, and I realized this trip would be a major test of our relationship. I had no idea how we were going to deal with so much time apart.