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I thought Noah and I had something special and finding out he’s exactly as bad as he tried to tell me hurts way more than it has any right to.

TWENTY SIX

Noah

I ride to the top of the cliff looking over the ocean and hurl my phone into the sea so I can’t call her—can’t call her. I won’t let myself be sucked into this shitstorm.

Only I can’t sleep that night or the next without her. At two in the morning on the second night, when I’m ready to claw my eyes out, I finally stop to wonder how a few nights spent with her in my arms have made her as necessary to me as fucking water.

I’m so mad by the time I drag myself out of bed and onto my bike at three in the morning that I nearly crash the fucking thing into the lamp post in my apartment complex, and I’m so tired I hardly know how I make it to the bed and breakfast on the hill.

I storm up the steps to the top floor with no regard for the time of night or for the other guests who are probably sleeping. Then I pound my fist on Olivia’s door. “Olivia! It’s me. I need to talk to you.”

She doesn’t fucking answer.

I try again, ramming my fist against the wood. “Olivia! Would you open this fucking door?”

A light flicks on downstairs. I see a curtain twitch in the room next door.

“Olivia, I’m sorry, OK? I fucked up. Could you just come out here and talk to me?”

“Noah Wilson, is that you?”

I spin to find Mr. Nguyen, the owner of the bed and breakfast, standing at the top of the stairs wrapped in a tartan robe and glaring at me.

“Oh fuck off,” I mutter under my breath. Then turn back to the door. “Olivia!”

“She left today.” Mr. Nguyen clearly did not fuck off. In fact, he’s come over to where I’m standing. “You’re out of luck. And you should know better than to talk to me like that, son. I was there at your high school graduation.”

I shake off the little twinge of guilt that tugs at me. He’s right. I should have a bit more respect. But damn it, desperate times. “What do you mean she left?”

Mr. Nguyen shakes his head sadly. “Noah, how much have you had to drink? She checked out. She’s gone. Got the bus back to Sydney this morning.”

“The fuck she has.” I brush past him, heading for the stairs. I’m not even sure I know where I’m going, but if Olivia isn’t here, I’ve no reason to stay.

“Not so fast!” The jangle of keys makes me turn to find Mr. Nguyen standing there waving my keys at me.

“What the fuck?”

He yanks them away when I reach for them. Tricky old bastard must have snatched them from my pocket as I went past. “You’re not driving in this condition. You come downstairs and have a cup of coffee and sober up.”

I drag my hand over my face. “I’m not drunk.”

He scoffs. “That’s what you said last time you had a few too many in the pub, but I could never forgive myself if I let Rob’s boy drive drunk.”

“I’m not—” I cut myself off with a groan. He’ll never believe me. “Whatever. Keep them. I’ll walk.”

Mr. Nguyen chases me down the stairs as I stalk from the bed and breakfast past my useless bike. “Hey! Where do you think you’re going?”

“Fuck knows. To get some sleep I guess.”

“No. You turn around right now, young man, or I will call the Inlet Views and wake your parents.”

I roll my eyes. “Go ahead. They’re still in Sydney.”

“Noah Wilson!”

I ignore his shouts, shoving my hands in my pockets and taking a left at McPherson Road. He obviously isn’t that serious since he doesn’t follow me beyond the carpark. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? Olivia is gone and I don’t even know how to find her again. I can’t let myself think about the baby—if there is one. It scares me too much.