Page 25 of Lies and Other Drugs

Noah and I spent the next day exploring each other’s bodies and enjoying the seclusion of our crappy hotel room. We didn’t talk much, mostly because there wasn’t anything that could be said that hadn’t already been hashed out. Noah was afraid I’d tell him what I was thinking. For a therapist, he sure didn’t like to explore the depths of my mind.

Samuel invited me to dinner that night. He called, and I could feel Noah’s eyes on my back as I agreed to meet him. That obsessive part of me was back. The part that wanted to dissect my new enemy and prepare for the end. But then there was another part of me that craved more than answers. I craved Samuel’s unforgiving body. I craved his bites, hits, slaps, and thrusts.

Noah wanted his love to be enough, but it wasn’t. I wanted some pain, too. So I got dressed in one of the few nice dresses I owned. I pretended not to hear his sighs and ignored the sad look in his eyes and the lingering kisses he tried to tempt me with.

I also ignored the impulse to call him a selfish bastard. This was why I couldn’t have nice men. I was temporary. Flighty. “So you’re going to go? Just like that?” he asked as I sat on the bed—with messy covers that smelled of sex—to put on my heels.

“Yep,” I said. My answer seemed to echo around the small room covered with our discarded clothes.

“Even after yesterday, after everything?” Noah was trying to work through this. It was cute watching him try to psychoanalyze me.

“Look. I’m going to go have dinner with Samuel, find out more about the lady Nathaniel is fucking. Then I’ll probably have a nice little hate fuck with the pretty boy to burn off some steam. Then I’ll come home to you, and we can cuddle and shit, okay?” Unlike Noah, I didn’t need alcohol to say what I wanted. For months, he would only call me when he was drunk, because he was afraid to want me sober, and he couldn’t understand how and why I’d act on my desires with nothing but a whim.

“I hate this,” he muttered, a look of disgust on his face.

“No, you hate that I’m not afraid to want the things I want, fuck the people I want to fuck. Love…” I stumbled over my words, angry with myself for saying it out loud. “Love the people I want to love.” I ignored the way Noah’s eyes brightened at that part and continued. “I’m going to kill the people I want to kill. I’m impulsive. Obsessive. Angry. I warned you, Noah. I warned you not to fall for me. I’ve got zero fucks and an expiration date.”

Noah just stared at me like I had three heads and a dick growing in my pants. Silence welcomed me as I ran a finger over my soft skin, appreciating how the dress left little to the imagination. “Okay, Octavia. I can handle that,” Noah said. Noah had a thing for things that hurt him. It’s why he was an alcoholic, and now it was why he’d love a woman that would inevitably hurt him.

My eyebrows shot up in surprise, and I just stared at him. Maybe part of me was hoping that he wouldn’t be able to handle this and that he would finally run away for good. And maybe the other part of me was suddenly exploring the possibilities of a man that loved me so much that he didn’t care about my issues. He just cared aboutme.

So he kissed me. Long and hard. He was doing that manly thing where he wanted to burn his memory on my lips. And I was certain that I’d be thinking of him later—between murderous plots and angry sex, of course.

Chapter 15

The restaurant where Samuel asked me to meet him was owned by his parents. I knew this because when I first started researching him, he’d been tagged in photos with numerous dates, all of them boasting about their romantic night at one of the most exclusive restaurants in New York. My deep burgundy dress matched my lipstick called, “Lady Danger.” And I made sure to wear an unimpressed expression when he met me outside; people that thought highly of themselves needed to be kept in check sometimes. I liked to keep him humble by not reacting the way he expected. His hair was combed in that way that looked effortless but probably cost a good fifty bucks when he got it trimmed. He was wearing a suit that, in my opinion, looked cut a bit too tight, highlighting his muscles and broad shoulders but looking stiff and uncomfortable. Completely unlike the comfortable jeans and t-shirts that Noah usually wore.

Why was I thinking of him? Get it together, girl.

“Hey, Octavia,” he said with a practiced smirk as he looked me up and down. “You look beautiful.” My dress was deep and red and sexy. The fabric criss-crossed at the chest, and it was so short that one wide step would give the entire restaurant a peep show.

When we went inside, the hostess was tripping over her tits to help him, ushering us to one of the nicest tables in the back. I stared with interest at the flame of a candle flickering in the middle of the table. It moved as bustling waiters rushed by carrying large platters of food. We both sat down, Samuel doing that practiced polite move of helping me into my seat, like I wasn't capable of lowering my ass into a wooden chair by myself.

“I’m glad you came. I was worried that you wouldn’t want to see me again,” he said while looking down at the silverware. He brushed his thumb along the steak knife before straightening it.

“I wanted answers. And to explore those nice little toys you keep in the top drawer of your dresser. I’m particularly interested in the handcuffs.” A waitress was standing near, eyes wide in half shock and half embarrassment as she poured us some of the expensive house wine. Samuel merely smiled at me, unfazed by my confident behavior. I had nothing to hide, and he liked being known for his sexual prowess.

“I’d love to show you more…” he said while leaning over the table, hungry eyes looking at my cleavage then fluttering back to my face. “But first, we’ll have the porterhouse steak,” he added before staring at the poor woman taking our order.

“Yes, Mr. Smith,” she said before hurrying away.

“So who is she? How does she have that much influence?” I asked before taking a sip of wine. It had a woody taste and a heady aftertaste. I wasn’t usually one to indulge, but I wanted to know what liquid five hundred dollars tasted like.

“I don’t want to divulge too much. But she’s pretty influential at the school,” Samuel explained. There was a small bead of sweat on his temple and a slight tremble in his fingers as he reached for his glass and took an artful sip, swirling the maroon liquid around the glass like he knew what the fuck he was doing. He puckered his lips and smiled, like he could taste the money he just dropped. It was similar to the way mom could tell the difference between good and bad crack. I guess anyone could be a snob, just depended on the vice. “She’ll be there tomorrow night, actually,” he said then winced, as if realizing he shouldn’t have said that.

“What’s tomorrow night?”

“A scholarship event. President Robinson announces the recipients of the Annual Blackwood Scholarship. No one ever reallyneedsthe money, but it’s a fun way for people’s egos to get boosted.”

I nodded, understanding. Guess I was going to a scholarship event tomorrow, too. “Is that really all you’re going to give me? So Young has to fuck an old lady all because of a stupid test he stole for you?” I asked. “What is she, like obsessed? Lonely?” I wanted to understand her motives—so I could use them against her.

Samuel looked around, not necessarily embarrassed but still concerned that someone could hear us. “Well, at first, it wasn’t much of an inconvenience,” Samuel explained while leaning a bit. I’d noticed his posture always sank when we discussed hard topics. It was his tell. “It wasn’t until William showed up that Nathaniel started to resent their arrangement.”

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that Samuel was a bit resentful, too. William was ruining a cushy arrangement that Samuel benefitted from. He quickly recovered. “Not that it was a bad thing. It just got complicated. She was much more attached than Nathaniel was. It wasn’t even about an arrangement anymore. Genuine feelings were involved.” That made sense. I could see how someone would fall for Young. He was kind and determined. Sexy. Confident. If I had to guess, I’d bet he was great in bed.

“Are you going to tell me her name?” I asked. It wouldn’t be hard to find her on my own, but I wouldn’t mind the added help. I still couldn’t ignore that nagging sensation that Iknewher somehow. I’d seen her. Not just from the auction. She looked eerily familiar.

“No.”

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