Page 93 of Your Fault
Calm down?“I’ll calm down when I see you and you tell me what the hell’s actually going on,” I said as I got in the car and started it up.
“I don’t think I want to tell you where I am.”
I froze. Was this a fucking joke?
“Noah, tell me where you are,” I asked, feigning calm.
The music was barely audible now, and I could hear her breathing.
“I already did. I’m at a party.”
“Give me an address, a street.”
She sighed and a second later told me where I could find her.
I had a bad feeling about all that, but I still hoped when I showed up, she would calm my fears. I’d come home early, ready to give her a surprise, take her out to dinner, make up for those days we hadn’t been together. But instead, I’d found the house empty apart from the flowers I’d sent, which were wilting on the table.
I arrived quickly, turning a corner to find her standing there. She was leaning on her car with her arms crossed over her chest. She sat up when she saw me and looked at me nervously. I parked in front of her and got out.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Now that I saw her and knew she was safe and sound, I could relax a little bit.
I tried not to let her know I’d been longing to see her again ever since the moment I left. Instead, I just walked over, observing her coolly. She said nothing, but I could tell my silence was bothering her.
“Let’s go,” I said, turning on my heel before I’d even touched her. “I’m in the mood for a hot chocolate.”
“Wait, what?” she asked.
I opened the passenger door, waiting for her to come over.
“I guess you’ve got a lot to tell me, and I’m not going to do it outside while you’re freezing your half-drunk ass off.”
I was trying to control myself, trying with all my might not to give in to the temptation to explode, but seeing her there tipsy, incredibly attractive, and alone angered me far more than I was willing to admit.
Noah stumbled over. I closed the door once she got in andwalked around to the driver’s side. I cranked up the heat, tore off, and looked for a twenty-four-hour coffee shop. I’d made up that thing about the hot chocolate just to get her off the street. She was shivering; I don’t know if it was the cold or the fact she was hiding something from me, but either way, I was now seeing all those ignored calls in a different light.
“Nicholas…I want to go home,” she said when she noticed I’d skipped our exit.
“I thought you liked hot chocolate,” I said, turning right onto a side street.
I could tell she was staring at me.
“Stop acting like nothing’s up,” she said. “I can tell you’re pissed. So drop the act.”
“What would I have to be pissed off about? The fact that you’ve barely picked up the phone since I went to San Francisco? We both know you love to drive me crazy, so I just hope this isn’t some weird way of punishing me for leaving.”
She writhed in her seat, uncomfortable, but I tried not to show my irritation as I kept driving.
The road was almost empty… That was to be expected after 2:00 a.m. If anyone had asked me earlier what I thought I’d be doing at that time, it would have been anything but this, and I sure as hell wouldn’t have guessed I’d have Noah in the car trying to get as far away from me as her seat would permit.
I parked in front of a run-down diner. Even before I’d stopped the car, Noah was getting out and walking toward the front door. I couldn’t help comparing her with Sophia. Noah was as strong-willed as I was, and knowing I was the one in the right this time, she couldn’t control herself. I walked in behind her and sat down at the place she’d chosen: a small corner table that looked out toward the interstate.
She stared down at the table. She didn’t seem in the mood totalk. When the waitress came over, I ordered a hot chocolate for me and a coffee for her. I was trying to calm the waters because it was weird not to be covering her in kisses after four days apart, but my suppressed anger and whatever she was hiding from me stood between us like an uncrossable sea. When she made no sign that she was about to speak, I decided to go first. No more games.
“Where’s your stuff?”
She looked up at me with those honey-colored eyes. She’d put on makeup, and her mile-long eyelashes were casting a strange shadow over her high cheekbones. Her pink lips opened hesitantly, but before she could answer, the waitress returned with our order.
Noah cupped the warm coffee in her hands. I waited.
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