Page 65 of My Fault
Noah’s hair was down. She looked tired. She was clearly stressed out by my presence. She was brusque with me, and her answers made me want to dig at her further. That push and pull between us amused me. I was having fun seeing her grow irate.
I should have stayed away, but I couldn’t. My legs kept pushing me toward her until there was practically no space between us. Either I kissed her or I went crazy—there was no other alternative. I wasn’t even conscious of what we were talking about. Something about doing favors or making her my servant… I don’t know.
Just the thought of having her at my mercy turned me on unbearably. I needed it, even if I knew it was wrong. I needed her the way I needed oxygen to breathe.
I buried my hands in her long hair and pulled her close. I was on the verge of desperation. Noah’s hands wrapped around my neck, and our bodies collided. I tasted the sweet flavor of her mouth, savored her with my tongue, and I thought I would die.There was nothing like kissing those lips. I wanted to feel her shiver in my arms, make her feel things nobody, and certainly not her asshole ex-boyfriend, had ever made her feel before. That was my number one priority: her pleasure. I came closer, pushed her into the car door, pressed my knee between her legs.
The sigh that came from deep inside her made me quiver all over until my phone rang and we couldn’t continue what we’d started there in the middle of the parking lot.
I took one more look at her and knew I was lost.
If you don’t watch out, you’ll find yourself eating out of her hand, and you won’t know how or why you got there.
I tried to turn away from her pink cheeks and her swollen lips and concentrate on whatever I was hearing. I needed to go, needed to put distance between us. I couldn’t let Noah take over my thoughts, my life.
“I’ve got to go. I’ve got something to do,” I said, hoping she wouldn’t notice my consternation. “I’ll see you at home.”
Noah pursed her lips and got into her car.
I had an unpleasant feeling as I watched her go.
Was it already too late?
23
Noah
A whole week had passed since the last time I talked with Nicholas. A whole week of work, a whole week without a single message from Dan. For that, I was grateful. After what had happened in the parking lot, Nick was avoiding me. It was almost insulting. When I got up, he was already gone, and when I came home from work around ten, Mom would tell me he’d left just a little while before. It was like all of a sudden he didn’t want to see me anymore, and the worst part was the distance hurt me in a way I could never have imagined. My body was demanding I kiss him again, crawl into his arms, and I was tormenting myself wondering what I could have done wrong, why he was being so cold to me after we had shared such moments of arousal.
I knew he was spending time at home because Mom saw him almost every day, but he only came home when I was gone or late at night after doing God knows what. And so one Saturday evening, which my boss told me to take off because they were closing the bar for three days, I thought I would finally catch up with Nick. I didn’t know for sure he would be home. For that matter, I wasn’t sure I really wanted to have him in front of me.
Escaping from my own mental conflicts, I went to the kitchen.Mom and I had talked about having dinner that night and watching a couple of movies. When we were in Canada, we had done that almost every night, but since we’d moved, we hardly spent time together. Mom was always accompanying William on his work trips or shopping or organizing endless events or parties for Leister Enterprises. That night, though, she was free: William was going to be at the office late, and she and I had coordinated our schedules so we could see each other.
It was a little after eight, and Mom still wasn’t home, so I decided to make a roast with potatoes. I liked cooking. I wasn’t a fancy chef, but I could hold my own at the stove. I was cutting the potatoes with one of those knives like they sold on QVC when I heard the front door open. I stiffened. I didn’t know it was him, but my heart began to pound as I heard those heavy footsteps getting closer.
When we met eyes, we both froze, him in the doorway, me next to the island where I’d just set down my knife. He looked surprised and then indifferent. I tried to be angry, but too soon I was hypnotized by his outfit, a black suit and a white shirt buttoned low and his intentionally mussed hair framing his handsome eyes.
“I thought you were supposed to be working,” he said when we—or at least I—had recovered from the impact of not seeing each other for seven long days. He walked inside and around the island, opening the refrigerator with a distant air.
“They let me off,” I said, knocked off guard by the incredible attraction I felt for him. My fingertips were itching with the urge to mess up his hair even more and tear off his carefully ironed shirt.
“Good for you,” he said.
“Where’ve you been?” I asked, slamming the knife down a bit harder than necessary, cutting through the potato and leaving a mark across the wooden cutting board with a dull, almost thudding sound.
“Around,” he said from behind me. I couldn’t turn. If I did, he’d realize how out of sorts I was. I didn’t want Nicholas to know about that unbearable obsession that had overtaken me in recentdays. It made me nervous to know he was watching me, leaning on the counter. After an intense, uncomfortable silence, he remarked, “Your back’s sunburned.”
Knowing he was looking at me that way made me even more nervous.
“I fell asleep by the pool,” I said, cutting more potatoes, trying to concentrate on my work.
I felt his breath on my neck and stopped moving the knife as he said, “You should be more careful.”
I nearly cut myself, he made me so anxious. But Nick’s reflexes were fast enough to catch my hand. I dropped the knife and looked back at him.
“Why have you been avoiding me this past week?”
“I haven’t been avoiding you.”
