“Roman swears he doesn’t remember leaving you on the boat. Not until the next day, when we asked him if he’d seen you. I dunno, he must’ve got blackout drunk. It’s not an excuse, but?—”
Anger burned through me, and I welcomed it. I twisted to face him, baring my teeth, taking satisfaction in the way his brows flew up, his eyes widening. “Do you know what? He was one hundred percent fucking sober when he left me on that boat, Tristan. And I spent the whole night panicking that he’d drowned. You don’t even want to know what went through my mind, the scenarios I tortured myself with. And yet, he decided to go back to the lighthouse and rejoin the party without a care in the world. That’s beyond callous. That…that’s hateful. I will never, ever forgive him for that, nor should I have to. Don’t you dare come here making excuses for him. There are no excuses that can ever make what he did okay.”
Tristan slumped back in his seat. “Yeah,” he said eventually. “Yeah.” With a sigh, he rose to his feet. “For what it’s worth, I don’t condone what he did.”
“I don’t want to hear it. Please, just leave me alone. All I want to do now is finish up this school year and forget Roman Cavendish ever existed.” Picking up my pen, I began scribbling notes down…notes that made no sense, but it gave me something to focus on. I would’ve fallen apart otherwise. Soft footsteps retreated, and then I was alone again.
12
ROMAN
“Good choice.” Tristan paced around my new car, admiring it from all angles. “Copying me and Knox with the matte-black theme, I see.”
“Nah, my cousins were doing the matte-black thing before you two could even drive.” I smoothed a hand across the sleek lines of the passenger door. “It looks fucking amazing, doesn’t it?”
Knox glanced over at Tristan, smirking, and then turned to me. “I prefer to be higher up, but I can’t deny it’s a fucking gorgeous machine.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, we all know you like to overcompensate by having a ridiculously oversized car.”
“Fuck you. You know that’s a blatant lie. You’ve seen the size of my dick,” Knox said way too loudly, catching the attention of Saunders, our lacrosse coach, who was crossing the car park.
“Enough talk about dicks, Ashcroft. You’re supposed to be getting ready for practice. I want you out on the field in five minutes!” he bellowed. We all jumped to do his bidding, Tristan and me laughing at Knox because we were assholes.
By the time practice was over, I was in need of some relaxation before I took my new wheels for a spin. The three of us congregated in the crypts, collapsing back on the sofas. The air was much cooler down here with the ancient stone surrounding us. It was just what I needed, my body still overheated from our gruelling training session, even though I’d showered afterwards.
“Fucking hell, Saunders was on one today. I can’t feel my legs,” Tristan whined.
“Stop whining,” I told him, even though I felt the same.
Knox kicked his legs up on the coffee table. “You need to work on your stamina. I feel fine.”
“I get more action than the two of you put together, so don’t start with that shit,” Tristan said.
“Yeah? I don’t think Elena would agree with you…”
I tuned out their bickering. Their words had unlocked a memory, and thoughts I’d been pushing aside poured into my brain unchecked.
Quinn’s hot mouth around my cock. That fucking blank spot in my brain. Her total avoidance of me ever since—yeah, she’d been avoiding me before, but this felt different. She’d gone out of her way to make sure we didn’t cross paths, and it felt as if Knox and Tristan had been working to keep me away from her at the same time. Add to the fact that the usual wannabe goddesses and elite hangers-on had been surrounding me and my friends all week, and I hadn’t managed to get near Quinn since my return to Hatherley Hall.
The truth was, I had no fucking clue what to do or what to even say to her. We hadn’t resolved anything before I’d left her on the boat, and then I’d done something that was unforgivable in her eyes. But I couldn’t explain my actions because I didn’t know why I’d acted the way I had, either. Yeah, she’d hurt me and all that other shit, but I wasn’t that much of a callous asshole to leave anyone stranded at sea, let alone a girl who’d meant fucking everything to me once.
Groaning, I rubbed my hand across my face. When I lowered it, I found Knox and Tristan staring at me.
“What?”
They exchanged glances, and I gritted my teeth.
“If you’ve got something to say, just say it.”
Tristan cleared his throat. “Look, man. I saw Quinn yesterday, and she’s pissed off. Understandably. I guess…we’re having trouble getting our heads around what happened, y’know? How is it you can’t remember?”
I let my eyes fall closed, my head thumping back against the sofa. “I don’t know what you want me to say. There’s no way I would’ve left her, not on purpose. My cousin Cade asked if my drink had been spiked. It…fucking hell, I brushed it off, but the more I think about it, the more I’m wondering if it’s true. It’s like there’s a fucking black hole in my head.”
“Fuck. You really think someone would’ve spiked your drink? Who and why?”
My fists clenched as I reluctantly opened my eyes to meet Tristan’s gaze. “I don’t fucking know, okay? None of it makes sense.”
Knox was frowning, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. “I don’t like this. If, and it’s a big if, someone did spike your drink, they must’ve had a reason. Let me do some digging. Speak to a few people, see if I can pick up any vibes.”