My Fault (Culpable, #1)

He rested his elbows on his knees and leaned in toward me.

“You didn’t know because almost no one knows, and I want it to stay that way.”

It obviously had to do with his mother. I didn’t know much about her, just that she had walked out on him and his father, that they’d divorced when he was just a kid. That was about it.

“Do you have a good relationship with her?” I asked, trying to imagine him playing with a five-year-old girl and getting teary-eyed holding her. I just couldn’t imagine it.

“Great. I adore her, but I don’t see her enough,” he replied, and I could see the sorrow in his eyes. It was clearly hard for him to talk about…but still, he was doing it, for me.

I climbed off the table and curled up in his lap. It surprised him, but instead of pushing me away, he wrapped his arms around me.

“I’m sorry,” I said, not just because of his sister but also for the way things had gone with his mother.

“Sometimes I imagine bringing her out to LA, but by law, I can’t see her very often. My sister doesn’t get all the attention she needs; she’s diabetic, and that only makes matters worse,” he said, squeezing me into his chest.

What could I say? I felt like a complete idiot now. Not only had I misjudged him, I’d always just assumed his life was perfect, without problems of any kind. How stupid.

“Do you have a photo of her?” I asked. I couldn’t imagine what she looked like.

He took out his iPhone and swiped through his photos until he came upon a picture of a very small, very pretty blond girl. I smiled.

“She’s got your eyes,” I said. She had his mischievous expression, too, but I kept that to myself.

“Yeah, that’s the only thing, though. Everything else is exactly like my mom.”

I turned to look at him. I knew he was hiding things from me; I knew something had happened with his mother, but I didn’t dare ask. I decided to change the subject.

“Your turn,” I said.

He seemed to be thinking it over and then asked, “What’s your favorite color?”

I laughed.

“Out of all the questions in the world, you ask that one?”

He grinned as he waited for a response.

“Yellow.”

“Your favorite food?”

“Macaroni and cheese.”

“We’ve got something in common then,” he said, resting his hand on my forearm. Being with him like that…was wonderful. Wonderful and so, so new.

“Why do you like Thomas Hardy?” he asked. That one surprised me. It meant he’d been watching me and knew what I was reading.

“I guess…I guess I like books that don’t necessarily have a happy ending. They’re more real, more like the way life is. Happiness is something you have to look for, you don’t just find it so easily.”

“You don’t believe people can be happy?” he asked. Now the questions were getting personal, and my body began to stiffen.

“I think you can be less unhappy. Let’s put it that way.”

He scrutinized me, as if trying to grasp what was passing through my mind. It made me uncomfortable, being looked at in that way.

“Are you unhappy?” he said, stroking my cheek with one of his fingers.

“Not right now,” I said, and he smiled back at me sadly.

“Me neither.”

Was I just imagining it, or were we crossing an invisible line to reach our real feelings?

“What do you want to study when you’re done with high school?”

Okay, that was easy.

“English literature. In Canada. But I want to be a writer,” I said. Just then I realized maybe Canada was no longer such a good idea.

“A writer…” He seemed to be thinking it over. “Have you already written anything?”

I nodded. “I’ve written some stuff, but I’ve never let anyone read anything.”

“Would you let me read something you wrote?”

I shook my head. I’d die from shame. Plus, the things I’d written were more like diaries than stuff you could just share with people.

“Next question,” I said before he could push me on that point.

He looked at me attentively, hesitant at first but then resolute, choosing every one of his words carefully.

“Why are you afraid of the dark?”

That I didn’t want to answer. Not just did I not want to—I couldn’t. Thousands of memories bunched together in my mind.

“Pass,” I said with a trembling voice.





30


Nick





I observed her reaction. Since I’d seen her turn white as a sheet when we were playing Truth or Dare and she was supposed to go into a dark closet, I couldn’t stop asking myself what the hell had happened to make her so scared. Even mentioning it just now had terrified her, as if the memory of something were tormenting her inside.

“Relax, Noah,” I said, hugging her. I’d dreamed of holding her like this, but now I’d screwed up everything by asking her that damn question.

“I just don’t want to talk about it,” she said, and I could feel her shivering. What the hell was going on?

“It’s fine. Everything’s fine,” I said, rubbing her back. Tonight I hadn’t been able to resist kissing her; it had been too long since the last time, I couldn’t keep my hands off her. Noah had put a spell on me, and I was starting to realize a new Nicholas existed, one that couldn’t stop thinking about her if he tried.

“I should probably go,” she said. I cursed myself for provoking that reaction. I didn’t like how she ran away from me every time things turned serious or we got closer to each other.

“No, stay,” I said, burying my face in her neck, smelling her magnificent, captivating aroma, sweet but also tremendously sexy.

“I’m tired. Today was a long day,” she said, standing up. I grabbed her hands to get her to stay.

“Sleep here with me,” I asked, realizing immediately what she’d think when she heard those words.

From her expression, I saw I was just making matters worse. I needed to tread lightly with Noah.

“I said sleep. I’m not implying anything else,” I begged her.

She looked like she was thinking it over.

“I’d rather sleep in my bed,” she said, breaking free of my hands. She seemed to want to tell me something else, even to regret not saying it, but I understood that I had shaken up bad memories and she didn’t want to be in this room anymore.

“It’s okay. I’ll walk you back,” I said, standing up.

She giggled, and my heart filled with happiness. That was the Noah I liked.

“Nicholas, my room is right across from yours. You don’t need to come with me,” she reminded me, going inside and gathering her things. It was hot to me, seeing her in one of my T-shirts. It hung just below her butt, and I had to struggle to keep myself from lifting it up to get a better view.

“I don’t care,” I said.

“Thanks.”

I grabbed her shoes and opened the door to let her through. I didn’t know why, but she made me want to act like a gentleman.

We crossed the hall to her room, and I watched her take out her key card and slide it into the slot. A green light glowed, and the door opened with a click.

She turned around. She looked nervous or frightened. I didn’t really understand what I’d done by asking her that question, but she felt so much further away than before. I grabbed her around the waist and pulled her close before she could go inside, kissing her deeply, in a way that left me yearning for more. She kissed me back but broke off abruptly and grabbed her shoes out of my hand.

“Good night, Nick,” she said with a timid smile.

“Good night, Noah.”



* * *



I didn’t know what to expect the next morning, but when we all met in front of the elevator, Jenna and Lion were staring at us. I didn’t care. I walked straight over to Noah and kissed her on the lips. She wasn’t expecting it, but she didn’t try to stop me. She was wearing jean shorts, a T-shirt, and sneakers. Those informal clothes were completely different from her outfit the night before and from the way the girls I usually went out with dressed. On the outside, she was simple, but inside, she was like a thousand-piece puzzle, and I still didn’t know where I fit in.

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