Fault (Define Book 3) Page 14

  “Let me check online first.” I had forgotten our fate didn’t reside in an envelope to be carefully opened, a moment to savour before processing its contents. I got out of bed when she picked up her phone from the bedside table, wanting to give her some privacy, to give myself time to shape my reaction. “Don’t go,” she pleaded, and I sat back down. Stroking her back as she tapped at her screen, I willed myself to support her, whatever the outcome. “Fuck,” she whispered and, from the disbelief in her voice, I knew she was leaving. “I got into York. I got into York!”

  “Wow. Congratulations,” my mouth lied as something inside me broke. “I’ll go and get you a cup of tea to celebrate.” I left the room before I begged her to stay, to stay with me and never leave.

  Stood in the kitchen, I heard her soft steps before I felt her arms wind their way around my waist. “A watched kettle never boils.” She laughed before leaning over to switch it on. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, just a bit tired.” Another lie that tasted bitter on my tongue. I couldn’t turn and let her see how okay I wasn’t.

  “Let’s go back to bed. I can pick up my results later. There’s no hurry.”

  As much as I wanted to pretend that we could wind back the clock, I knew the truth.

  “I’m fine. And there is a hurry. You need to pick up your results before you confirm your place,” I reminded her, trying to imprint on my brain the warmth of her breath on my back, the feel of her skin against mine, the rise of her chest with each inhale.

  “I’ve already deferred the offer.”

  “What?” I turned and took her shoulders in my hands.

  “I’m not going. Well, not this year anyway. I told you that.” Her face was impassive, daring me to challenge her. Too bloody right I was.

  “And I told you that was a mistake. You can’t limit your life in this way, Grace. Fuck!” I let go of her and put some distance between us.

  “This is the last time I’m going to say this, so listen carefully. It’s my life. They’re my mistakes to make. You do not get to make me feel crappy about them. Now I’m going to get ready and collect my results. By myself.” She walked out, holding her head high, but I knew she was feeling as messed up as I was. I had no idea what to do next. I was frightened by how much I felt for her and whether it was too much for either of us to cope with alongside everything else.

  I was getting dressed when I heard the front door close and the growl of her scooter coming to life. I went downstairs and met Dad in the lounge, wishing he could offer me some way through this mess. He lowered the Kindle and looked at me, concern etched into his eyes.

  “I know, I fucked up.” I perched on the arm of his chair. “It’s just so hard, Dad.” He grunted in agreement and started tapping at the Kindle before holding it up to me. I took it in my hands and read the page he had selected. “Never be ashamed of my tears, eh?” I read the page again and saw what he was telling me via Dickens. I needed to share the emotions I was feeling, not try to hide them. “So you think I should tell her how much she means to me?” He reached over and took my hand, squeezing it as tightly as he could. “I love you, Dad,” I said, hugging him to me, unashamed of the tears in my eyes. He softly groaned back at me, his eyes as watery as mine.

  Grace,

  I’m sorry.

  For trying to force decisions on you.

  For thinking I know best.

  For not being honest about how much you mean to me.

  I am falling for you.

  I am falling into you.

  I have fallen.

  I want everything you have to give.

  I want to give you everything I have.

  I am yours.

  Forever.

  Noah

  I placed the note in an envelope and left it on her pillow.

  WHEN I RETURNED TO find Noah’s note that day, I knew it was a turning point for him to put down in words how he felt. What I didn’t want to do was share my feelings in return; not because I didn’t feel as strongly as he did, but because I didn’t want it to seem like I was merely reciprocating. There was no sense of obligation about how much he meant to me. But just as he had decided on the exact moment to declare his feelings, I wanted the same in return.

  The next few days were the easiest, yet most frustrating, we had spent together: everything and nothing had changed. Noah and I played the same game of craving and denial. I went back to sleeping in my bed, usually after a heated make-out session that left me unable to settle until the early hours, willing myself not to walk to his room and beg him to make the next move without waiting for me to declare my feelings in the same way he had. So we carried on, waiting for something to give us the courage.

  The following week, Noah took me to visit Mum again. She still looked awful and refused to engage with me, but there was a glimpse of a smile when I told her about my exam results. Her face remained closed when I said that I had deferred my place, but I already believed that I had made the best choice for me. I talked about Josh and Max, knowing that telling her about Noah would betray how much he meant to me. Her silence would be too hard to read, desperate as I was to know what she thought.

  When I got up to leave, I took the usual phonecards, chocolate and money out of my bag and put them on the table. “There you go. Let me know if you need anything else,” I said as I leant down to give her a hug. She surprised me by standing up and taking me in her arms. It was the hug of ten years ago: the hug of a mother who wanted to pick up her child and never let them go.

  “I’m so proud of you,” she croaked as she stroked my back. “I wish your dad knew what you have achieved.” Tears burned behind my eyes but, before I had a chance to tell her I loved her, or how much her words meant to me, she pulled away and the prison mask slipped back into place. “’Bye, Grace.” Without making eye contact, she walked away from the table. Somehow I made it through the visitor hall and security before the tears fully hit me.

  As soon as the prison door thudded to a close behind me, my knees buckled and I grasped at the wall to save myself. My palms burnt as the brick scored my skin, too weak to keep me upright. Before I fell to the floor, strong arms caught me and picked me up. Noah. Noah. My arms wound around his neck, and I breathed him in, knowing it would help to calm me.

  He carried me to the car, gently putting me back on my feet when he opened the door. His concern was etched into his face, but he asked no questions. Once we were buckled in, he pulled me over so my head lay on his shoulder, reminding me I wasn’t alone. The drive home was silent, giving me time to think about how much I missed Mum. How much I missed all of them.

  “Wait here,” Noah instructed when we pulled onto the drive. Too drained to do anything else, I sat as he opened the front door and ran up the stairs before returning to help me out of the car. He picked me up again and carried me to his room. Carefully laying me on his bed, he smoothed a hand over my hair before perching next to me. “Do you want anything? A drink? Your phone?”

  Looking at him, I saw his worry, his concern, his love. “Just you. Will you hold me?”

  He removed my shoes before kicking off his own and lying down next to me. The weight of Noah’s arm across my abdomen was like gravity, keeping me from floating into despair. I curled into him, his chest snug against my back, and took a deep breath, finally confident that my lungs could manage more than the shallow breaths I’d been managing since Mum spoke to me.

  WHEN I WOKE, the room was dark and I was alone. I took a gulp of the glass of water that had been left next to the bed before heading to the bathroom. A long shower later, I felt better but still not ready to face Noah and Max downstairs. Leaving my door ajar, I settled on my bed with my Kindle, taking comfort from reading about someone else’s messed-up life.

  A gentle rap on the door brought me back to the here and now, and I looked up as Noah stepped into my room.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Better. Just not very sociable, if you know what I mean.” I wanted to t
hank him for all he had done earlier, but worried I would get emotional if I tried to explain.

  “I understand. Do you want anything to eat? There’s some leftover chilli, or I could warm some soup up. Maybe some toast?” His eagerness to please might have been off-putting to some, but to me, I yearned for the evidence that he cared, that somebody was willing to give me whatever I needed. I had missed it for so long.

  “Toast sounds good. Shall I come downstairs?”

  “No, stay there. Dad’s having an early night so I’ll bring it up and we can stay up here.”

  “Thank you,” I said, hoping he read the many layers to those words.

  “No need to thank me, Grace. Will you do me one thing though?”

  “Of course.” I was so much in his debt there was little I would have denied him.

  “Go back to my bed. I don’t want you to be by yourself tonight.” His smile-less face told me he had no ulterior motive to the request.

  “Okay.”

  I was lying on top of his bed when Noah returned upstairs, the warm evening air keeping me from covering myself. There was no point pretending that I wasn’t combining eating and watching as he undressed with his back to me, savouring the play of his muscles as he pulled his shirt over his head and the view of his ass as he stepped out of his jeans. Clad only in dark boxer briefs, he walked over and paused next to the bed. I shuffled over a few inches and smiled as he lowered himself onto his side, head propped on his elbow. His silent scrutiny of me was unnerving until I realised that he was handing over control; it was up to me to decide on the rules.

  “I don’t want to talk about it. Not tonight, anyway,” I admitted. “I’ll just get upset again.” Noah tangled the fingers of his free hand with one of mine but stayed silent. “I know it sounds a bit cheesy, but can we forget about my mum and your dad? Just be a boy and a girl with no responsibilities? No problems?” His smile lit up the darkness before he moved closer.

  “You want to forget, Grace?” Gripping my waist, he pulled me to him, aligning our bodies from chest to hip, giving me oh so much else to think about. I groaned my agreement and leant in to kiss him.

  His kiss wasn’t the gentle one I had secretly been fearing, the one that would tell me he couldn’t move past the me of earlier that afternoon. No, the kiss was hard and filled with want, demanding an equal reply from me. I didn’t care that his scruff would be leaving its mark. I didn’t care that my moans were probably audible through the open window. I only cared about the way his mouth was taking me, owning me.

  His hands moved, pushing my top farther up until, with a frustrated sigh, he pulled it over my head. Falling back to the bed, I gasped as his mouth found my breast instead of returning to the kiss. My fingers mapped the warm firmness of his skin, tracing the continents of his shoulders and back, details my mind latched on to as I filled with heat and an irresistible need to push closer to the hardness that pinned my hips to the bed. His mouth traced a line downwards, pausing just below my navel. I gripped his hair, uncertain.

  “Let me help you forget. Don’t think, just feel.”

  I did as I was told, giving him permission to continue by loosening my hold. He gently shimmied my sleep shorts and underwear down my hips, pausing to kiss each knee as he removed them completely. Nudging my legs apart, he settled and looked up. I smiled and closed my eyes, believing that he could slay my demons.

  The warmth of his mouth moved up and down each thigh, tormenting me as it moved ever closer to my centre, yet never quite reaching it. His fingers stroked my stomach, my hips, my legs, never quite reaching the place I craved. Twisting on the bed, I was ready to beg when I felt his fingers open me for his mouth to follow.

  He was right; I stopped thinking and just felt. I became a shooting star, burning and chasing across the night sky, filled with light and energy. As I made my descent to Earth, Noah moved and pulled me into his arms, cradling my head and making sure the fall was as gentle as the ascent had been breathtaking. The cadence of his breathing was my lullaby.

  AFTER THE BEST night’s sleep I’d had in ages, I woke to find Noah’s arms still settled around me, holding my back to his chest. Smiling at the realisation that we had managed to spend the whole night together without my brain turning him into a monster, I was surprised when his grip on me became tighter, pulling my hips into his, unashamed of his morning excitement.

  “What are you smiling about?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I think I must have had a good dream last night.” I stretched my legs, breaking contact with his hips. “I feel all warm and glowy,” I added before nestling back into his hardness.

  Noah kissed the line where my neck met my shoulder. “A dream, eh? That’s funny because I had a dream too.” His teeth grazed the skin, causing me to shiver with delight.

  “You did? That’s a coincidence, isn’t it?” My voice quivered. “What did you dream of?”

  In one move, he turned me so I was facing him. His eyes were serious, but I couldn’t hide from their intensity. “I dreamed of a beautiful girl who gave herself to me, who trusted me. I dreamed of being happy by making her happy. I dreamed of falling asleep, knowing there was no place else I would rather be.” His words humbled me.

  “Can I tell you a secret?” My stage whisper brought a hint of a smile to his face. “I didn’t really have a dream. It actually happened!” I cupped his face in my hand.

  “Can I tell you a secret?” he asked, mirroring my pose as well as my question. “I did have a dream. It came true.” And with that admission, I knew my moment had come—the moment to tell him how much he meant to me.

  But not with morning breath.

  I pulled away from him and jumped off the bed, stopped only by the hand he raked through his hair, a sure sign he was worried. “I’ll be back in a minute,” I explained before pulling on my sleepwear that had spent the night abandoned next to the bed.

  Before I’d squeezed the toothpaste onto my brush, Noah was knocking on the bathroom door. “Grace? Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah. I won’t be long. Go back to bed!” I started brushing my teeth before realising that I was ruining the moment that had seemed so perfect. Using my other hand, I opened the bathroom door to find Noah leaning against the wall opposite, a look of uncertainty on his face.

  “What’s going on?”

  I spit out into the sink before turning back to him. It was now or never.

  “I love you.” In that split second after the words came from my mouth, I understood how nervous Noah must have been when he left me the note declaring his feelings. The vulnerability of knowing that the other person could refuse to accept your heart wasn’t something I had considered before. I’d never been in love. I’d never had the moment of realising that my heart, my life, was now inextricably linked to someone else’s.

  Noah took the one step needed to cross the hall and took my face in his hands. The kiss that sealed my declaration was filled with gratitude and toothpaste. It was sticky and messy and everything I didn’t imagine the moment would be. It was perfect.

  WHEN I RETURNED home to take care of Dad, I thought my life was effectively over. It’s part of the reason why I was so harsh with him at first. I was resentful of how my hopes and dreams had been curtailed by something beyond my control. As friends were embarking on new careers, sharing cool apartments and spending their weekends at festivals, I was back in the small town I grew up in, caring for Dad and struggling to see a glimmer of my hopes and dreams anymore. I would think back to the days at uni, wishing I knew then what I learned too late: to savour every moment of freedom, every flirtation, every moment filled with irresponsible enjoyment. I had wasted the todays in pursuit of the tomorrows.

  Things got easier, but maybe that’s because I tried not to imagine what my life could have been; the here and now was all I let myself focus on. Dad and I had found a way of surviving that both of us could cope with.

  And then Grace happened.

  Suddenly I was breathing oxy
gen again.

  When she told me she loved me, I was hoping and dreaming of the future again.

  As much as I tried to play it cool, I knew I was a different man.

  Within a few days, I gave up pretending that nothing had changed between us. We spent every night together, and most waking hours too. I forced myself to work upstairs, all the while envying the time Dad was spending with her. He had spotted the change almost immediately and his lopsided smile was more evident than it had ever been.

  When Grace told me that her mum’s solicitor had been in touch, asking her to meet him, I offered to go with her, anxious that she might get as upset as she did at the prison. Yet I respected her insistence on going alone, not wanting to curb the independent spirit I loved about her.

  The sound of her scooter returning brought a sigh of relief; at least she had made it home. Dad muted the television set, as keen as I was to find out how the meeting had gone. But as soon as I saw her face, I knew it wasn’t good news.

  “I’ve got to testify if Mum is going to have any chance of not getting a life sentence,” she said before she had even sat down.

  “I thought she was pleading guilty? You said she had admitted it to the police.” Grace had told me a few nights earlier about the aftermath of the attack, giving me an insight into the complexity of her relationship with her mum.

  “The solicitor talked me through the options. Well, the few that there are. If she pleads guilty to a murder charge, it will automatically be life, so he’s trying to persuade her to plead not guilty instead. But that means a jury and witnesses as it will be a full trial.” Her eyes filled with tears and she turned away.

  “What’s the best-case scenario?” I asked, knowing the worst case was a mandatory life sentence for a murder conviction. Grace looked at me with hollow eyes.