Your Fault (Culpable Book 2)

It was as if I were floating among white clouds at nightfall. I felt the sun’s heat on my body and the warm sensation of resting so deeply that my mind was struggling to bring me back to reality. I felt so good, inside and out; that cold from the past few days had vanished, and when I finally managed to pry my eyes open, I understood why: two azure lights, stunning and sensual, were staring at me. I wanted him to close them; so much intensity without warning was too much for my already-raging hormones. His hand, resting on my back, started tracing little circles.

“How long have you been awake?”

He smiled. “Since you started snoring an hour or so ago.”

Irked, I grabbed the pillow and tossed it at his head. The blow didn’t have much of an effect; I still wasn’t totally awake.

I rolled over, grunting, and turned my back to him. He didn’t wait a second to edge over to me and pull me into him. He wove his fingers into mine and stretched our arms out in front of my eyes.

“I miss having you in my bed.”

I missed it, too. My God, that was what I missed the most. Who could have imagined all the things that could happen between two people who love each other in a bed. I didn’t just mean sex; I meant something more—how the mattress becomes a place for confessions, for midnight caresses, for trust, a place where you can put all your worries and hang-ups aside, at least when you are truly in love. There’s something magical about sleeping with someone and sharing your dreams. We hadn’t really done anything the night before, but I was certain that my body and mind had been calmed by the mere knowledge that he was there.

When his hand turned, I saw his tattoo. I loved seeing those words on his skin. I loved them because I had written them, I was the one who made him do crazy things like that because we were in love…crazily in love.

The night before, when we’d been dancing and I could feel his heartbeat by my ear…it was so special that I was scared for it to end. I didn’t want it to end, and that’s why I’d held on until I couldn’t keep my eyes open or my body standing. The Nick of the night before was the same Nick I’d fallen in love with, the same Nick I loved to the point of insanity. That had been one of those moments when I understood we really were perfect for each other. I wanted to believe we could leave the past behind and that if we kept struggling, we could make it. That was what I wanted more than anything in the world, and I was willing to do whatever it took.

But why, then, couldn’t I stop thinking about the way we’d fought before? And was this intimate moment between the two of us that morning the calm before the storm?

Nick turned me around and climbed on top of me. “You’re awful quiet… I wasn’t being serious about you snoring. You know you don’t snore.”

I smiled and pushed aside a lock of hair that had fallen into his eyes. “I liked dancing with you last night.”

He smiled—that smile I loved so much but saw so little of. “I told you I was a hell of a dancer.”

I rolled my eyes. “Nicholas Egotistical Leister, that must be your full name,” I said, turning away when he tried to kiss me. In response, he squeezed my ribs, tickling me until I started laughing.

“I don’t have a middle name. Middle names are for losers.”

“I’ve got a middle name, asshole.”

He started giggling and turned his face away.

“Noah Carrie Morgan! Oh my God, I forgot! Your mother must have been drunk when she picked that! You’re not going to use your telepathic powers on me, are you?”

I shoved him hard, but he didn’t move an inch. I’d read that stupid Stephen King book, too, and no, my mother hadn’t chosen that name because she thought I’d be some screwed-up girl everyone hated; it just happened to be my grandmother’s name.

“Dickhead!” I groaned, laughing, then going slack over the mattress.

He sat up then and looked down at me. “I love you, Freckles, along with each and every one of your names.”

He kissed my cheek and let me go. I got up. I needed to shower. I grabbed my things while Nick got dressed next to me, observing me from the corner of his eyes. All of a sudden, he was being strangely quiet. Before I could make it to the bathroom, he stopped me, grabbed my hand, and sat down with me on the edge of the bed, looking up at me.

“I need to tell you something…and I don’t want you to get mad.”

I looked at him with suspicion.

“I’m not going to the gala alone tomorrow.”

That was the last thing I expected him to say.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

I knew my tone of voice had changed dramatically, and I felt the room temperature drop several degrees in that moment.

“I’m supposed to go with Sophia.”

And there it was: we were right back at square one.

“I came over yesterday to tell you in person. I don’t want you to get mad. We’re going there as coworkers. That’s it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before, then?” I asked, now angry.

“Because we were so happy together, and I missed you so much…”

I didn’t want him to go with her… The last thing I needed just then was to feel that things were slipping out of my grasp. But maybe this was the moment, the one Michael had said a thousand times would come, when I needed to finally start acting with my head instead of with my heart…

“Fine. Do what you’ve got to do, and we’ll talk it over afterward.”

I turned around to go to the bathroom, but Nick stopped me again.

“Tomorrow, when this is all over, we’ll go far away from here. We’ll take a weekend together. We’ll go and fix things between us. You know I would never even set eyes on a girl who wasn’t you.”

I laughed bitterly. “Remember those words the next time you freak out and get jealous over someone.”

He nodded. I think he accepted my words. Cupping my face, he looked me in the eyes with the purest sincerity.

“I love you, and there’s no one I even think about apart from you.”

I closed my eyes and let him kiss me, and when he left, I went to the bathroom.

I tried to shut out all those negative thoughts that kept cropping up and tormenting me, those thoughts I had been working on for two weeks, the things I’d been struggling to look away from, trying to change to feel better about myself, more secure, braver. I couldn’t go back to the starting gate—I wouldn’t. So I tried to banish my demons and trust Nick.

One thing was true, though: I was going to look so fucking hot that my idiot boyfriend wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off me.

Later that morning, before the gala, I hung out with Briar and Jenna, who couldn’t stop blabbing and laughing. It was way more fun than I could have hoped. Jenna had invited the woman who did her mother’s hair over (and hers whenever she had a big event), and in expectation of her arrival, we’d turned my dorm into a regular beauty parlor.

We gave ourselves mani-pedis and a no-holds-barred waxing, and I took a bath with Himalayan salt and rosewater so my skin would smell delightful. I moisturized with an almond oil my mother had bought ages ago. I’d worn it once, and Nick had said it made him want to lick me all over.

I smiled, looking at myself in the mirror in my underwear. I’d chosen the most provocative bra and panties I could find. I swore to myself that the night to come would be unforgettable and that Nick would never look at another girl until the end of his days.

“Is this the dress?” Briar asked, taking it down from its hanger in the closet.

I nodded, taking a look at my phone. Mom had sent a text saying a car would come pick us up and take us to the estate where the event was being held. I was getting nervous. I wasn’t sure what to do or how to act when I got there, but I tried to put my fears aside when Jenna’s hairdresser showed up. Briar said she’d take care of her own hair—she was used to being dragged onto the red carpet by her parents and knew exactly how she liked it.

I put on a satin robe, sat down, and let Becka get to it. That extravagant-looking woman put curls in my hair and surrounded them with an intricate crown of braids. It hurt when she was twisting it, but I put up with it because I knew the result would be incredible. An hour and a half later, I was looking at myself in the mirror and smiling.

“I love it,” I declared, turning and checking myself from all angles. Jenna picked up the dress and handed it to me. I put it on carefully, admiring the delightful rustle of the silk against my skin.

“You’re going to cause a stir,” she said, passing me my clutch, which was just big enough for my phone and my lipstick.

I hugged her.

“Jenn, try and work things out with Lion. He loves you. Don’t forget that,” I said. She nodded, and I went to grab Briar. She was wearing an attractive beige gown that left little to the imagination. Her hair was pulled up on one side, with a cascade of curly locks hanging down on the other. She looked fantastic.

We said a quick goodbye to Jenna and walked toward the rented car that was waiting for us outside. I was surprised to find not a chauffeur, but Steve, dressed to the nines. As he saw us descending the stairway, he smiled and passed me a rectangular box.

“It’s from Nick,” he said. There was something strange, almost unfriendly, about the way he said it. I looked at the box and the accompanying envelope.

Briar gave me a strange look as I laid them both in the seat without opening either. “You don’t want to know what he got you?”

I shook my head, focusing on the road. I needed to keep a cool head. When the night was over, we could talk about whatever we wanted. I’d wait to open my heart till then.

The estate was outside of town, and my nerves only grew more strained over the course of the long drive. When we got there, I was surprised to see the trees flanking the road all covered in white lights. A row of limousines was waiting to drop all the passengers off at the door. When our car came to a stop, a man in a suit opened our door. I had to try to keep a lid on my insecurities. When he helped me out, at least thirty pairs of eyes focused on me.

“Good evening, ladies,” the man in the suit said, and he touched a button on his earpiece, whispering something I couldn’t hear.

My mother had told me not to stop for any photos until I found her and William. I turned to Briar as the man in the suit motioned for me to follow him.

“I can’t miss this,” she said, observing the photo-call with calculating interest.

“You sure you don’t mind staying by yourself?”

She rolled her eyes and turned her back to me. Her elegant legs marched off toward the group of people gathered in front of the camera, and I knew there was no need to worry about her.

I was led past a huddle of reporters interviewing numerous guests. I felt overwhelmed until my eyes met my mother’s… We hadn’t seen each other since the night I’d left home a month back, and even if enough time had passed to put our problems aside, when I saw her, I knew we still had a lot to talk about.

“You look lovely, Noah,” she exclaimed when she saw me, bending down for a quick hug.

She looked like a movie star: Her hair was in curls and pulled back with a bejeweled silver hairpin. Her dress was burgundy and made her look much younger than her true age. I’d always been amazed by how well-preserved she was because she wasn’t a strict dieter or anything of the sort.

“Thanks. You, too,” I responded, looking toward the corner where William was speaking with reporters from the Los Angeles Times.

Standing apart from the crowd, but still easily seen, I watched the cars arrive and the elegantly dressed guests getting out. My mother was projecting her voice to talk to various acquaintances as they passed. It was a madhouse, and it was already starting to stress me out. I couldn’t remember all the people I was getting introduced to, and we still had to wait for William to stop talking to the stupid reporters so we could finally take our goddamned family photos.

A wave of excitement shot through the photographers, and I looked over to see a car that had just stopped next to the carpet. There he was, and my God, who could have seen him without going gaga: Nicholas got out of his limo, his face serious, professional, despite the catcalls from the photographers. He buttoned his blazer and reached out a hand to the girl who was riding with him. Sophia Aiken was dressed in a spectacular black gown, tight, incredibly sensual. As I observed them from a distance, I had to suppress the urge to vomit.

I turned away just as William started walking away from the reporters to greet me. He was beaming. I guessed this was his night… I’d been thinking so much about myself that I’d forgotten how important this all was for him.

“Thanks for doing this, Noah. You look great,” he said with a smile.

I nodded, ignoring my mounting irritation. I saw Nick say something to Sophie, break away from her, and walk toward us.

When our eyes met, I felt a thousand butterflies take off in my stomach. His eyes widened as he saw my dress. Lord…Nick in a tuxedo.

Before I could do something crazy, I turned around and looked at the amazing gardens, the lights, the journalists… Wasn’t that one a well-known newscaster? And that guy over there, didn’t he just get hired for the new Spielberg movie?

I felt Nick’s warmth a few minutes later. My whole body shook when his jacket brushed my lower back. Will and my mother were right there in front of me. Their eyes turned toward the recent arrival.

“Hey, Son,” Will said distractedly just before a woman came over to say something to him. My mother smiled nervously and turned to listen to the woman’s instructions about the photos.

I looked back at the gardens. Nick said nothing, but his finger traced a line from my shoulder to my wrist in a way that was both subtle and incredibly tempting.

I turned, thinking I would warn him with my eyes that the best thing he could do was leave me in peace—no touching, no alluring stares, no kisses or anything like it. But whatever warnings I thought I’d issue got stuck in my throat when I saw him there, so close, right in front of me, and more imposing than ever.

His mouth said nothing, but his eyes said everything. I felt as if he were stripping me nude as they traveled over my body, their gaze palpable, as if he were stroking me with his hands. I could already feel his lips kissing me, moist and delightful, on every inch of my bare body.

God, stop it, don’t think about that right now.

He bent over to kiss me on the cheek.

I closed my eyes and breathed in his familiar scent, which was mixed subtly with the aroma of tobacco. Had he been smoking? Was he as nervous as I was?

“You look gorgeous,” he whispered in my ear before standing up straight and acting like nothing had happened.

He walked past me to the journalists while I stayed there stunned, watching him. They peppered him with questions, and he responded while I observed from a distance. The way he moved, the way he talked smoothly with all those people dying to know about the youngest Leister, the self-assurance in his every movement…

He stepped back to type something on his phone. Just then, I felt mine vibrate.

By then, Nick had put his away and returned to answering questions, and his father had approached him. The cameras were trained on the two men. I looked down at my screen:

I’m going to take off that dress so slowly I’ll make it the longest and most erotic night of your life.

An inopportune heat made my body glow from my toes to my cheeks. I looked to both sides, hoping no one had noticed the effect his words, his mere presence, had on me.

Finally, they let us into the salon, where the waiters were serving glasses of champagne on elegant glass trays. There was glass and crystal everywhere, and candles…yes, hundreds of candles and soft white lights that invited you to settle in, talk, spend an unbelievable evening.

Now that people were mingling, Nick came over to meet me.

“Did you like my present?” he asked as we walked off, leaving the journalists behind us.

I needed some distance from him. We had promised we’d work things out once everything was over, and I wanted that night to end as quickly as possible.

“No presents, Nick. I want to get this night over with and forget that you came here with another woman.”

He sighed and brought a hand up, evidently meaning to caress me, but then he realized he couldn’t. He closed it into a fist and brought it down by his side. I looked away, frustrated—by the situation, by everything.

“I could fuck all this up, Noah. I could do it. All I want right now is to bury my hands in your hair and kiss you until I’m breathless… Just say the word, and I’ll do it.”

I bit my lip. I knew he was telling the truth. If I asked him to, if I told him how much I was suffering that night, nothing would make him happier than to ruin the whole event on my behalf.

But Will had asked us to behave, and I wasn’t going to turn our parents against us even more.

“I’m good,” I assured him, even as I dreamed of him wrapping his arms around me just then. I missed him. I missed our moments, touching each other, our kisses. I missed the Nick and Noah moments; two weeks had been too many, and the night before hadn’t sufficed for us to get everything out and fix our problems once and for all.

I realized my mother was watching us from a few feet away. People were noticing us, damn it. Every eye was on Nick.

“You need to go. People are looking at us, and the last thing I want is for us to have done all this for no reason.”

Nick looked to either side, then back at me.

“It’s just a couple of hours. Then I promise I’ll devote myself to you, body and soul… until everything is back to the way it was before.”

His words hung in the air between us for a few infinite seconds.

Until everything is back to the way it was before.