Man of My Dreams(59)

“Dad? What...what are you doing here?”

Grace and a few men in uniform stand behind him stoically.

“Mia, are you alright? Did someone drug you? Put something in your drink? Please, Mia, tell me nothing happened here!” My father is frantic. I’ve never seen him like this. Okay, maybe once, when I got lost in the supermarket and he couldn’t find me for ten minutes.

“Dad. I’m fine. Really.” I don’t know how much to admit to him. I’m sure I’m grounded until the millennium, but I don’t want to add insult to injury.

I look into his eyes, sensing the agonizing worry. He’s thinking the worst—that I was taken advantage of, molested, raped. I can’t let him think that, not even for one more second.

“Daddy, I drank the beer and got myself drunk. It’s no one’s fault but my own.” I leave out the part about Jake. There’s no need to involve him. He did the right thing by walking out. He took no for an answer. He’s a prince compared to what another guy might have done.

My dad turns to the officers and Grace. “I’m taking her home. You too, Grace. Please let me know if there is any paperwork she needs to fill out or anything verbal you need to hear from her. But just let me get her home, where she’s safe.”

The officers nod, scribbling something down on a piece of paper. “If anything comes up, just give me or my partner a call.”

“Of course and thank you.” My dad says before hooking arms with me and walking me downstairs.

Grace follows, biting her nails.

I know she’s the reason my father’s here. The reason this house party was raided. Forget laughing stock, I’ll be blacklisted from every single party from here on out. No one likes a rat.

When we get in the car, I speak to my dad, only. “Daddy, I’m sorry. I..”

“Don’t, Mia. Don’t even bother. I’m so happy you’re safe and in one piece, but you are grounded until further notice. Take a good look at Grace because you won’t be seeing her for a while.”

I do take a long, hard look at my best friend. My best friend who betrayed me, tattled on me, threw me under the bus. If she would have just confronted me instead of jumping to conclusions, none of this would be happening right now. No one at Chelsea’s would be in trouble, my dad wouldn’t be looking at me like some delinquent, and my best friend would still be my best friend rather than a snitch.

I turn my head to look out the window. I don’t have words to say to her right now. It’s a good thing I won’t be allowed to see her. I’m actually hoping my punishment includes no phone privileges. Giving her the silent treatment will be her punishment for sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. When the hell will she stop thinking she knows what’s best for me?





“Mia?”

It’s light now. Morning. The room isn’t spinning anymore, but I still feel bound to the bed. I lift my head from the pillow and the throbbing makes me put it right back down.

“Mia? Are you up?”

“Grace?” What’s Grace doing here on the morning after...Oh my God, did I sleep with Noah?

I jump up, ignoring the agony in my skull. I throw on a t-shirt and run down the stairs and into the kitchen. Grace is at my table holding a piece of paper, glaring at me.

“What the fuck, Mia. Have you lost your goddamn mind?”

“Did he leave? Did you throw him out?” I’m mortified. How could I have an affair and not even remember it? I am the lowest of low.

“Let’s start with what you do remember. Can we do that?”

I sit down across from her, stake claim on the mug of piping hot coffee in Grace’s hands and drag it across the table.

“A lot happened last night. I don’t even know where to start. Can you tell me what you know? How you even knew to come here?” I take a sip of the coffee, concentrating on the hang-over-healing aroma. I can’t even look her in the eye.

Through heavy eyelids I see Grace fold her hands and rest them under her chin. She scowls, completely distorting her beautiful face to show her discernment. Wonderful! This is going to be worse than any lecture my mother ever gave me. When she starts, her tone is anything but maternal; it’s firm, commanding. She’s pissed. I can’t even look her in the eye. “Imagine my shock when I receive a phone call at two am from none other than Noah Matheson, telling me to come over because you were in bad shape. I had no idea what I would find. I thought he’d taken advantage of you and that I’d have to kill him myself. Turns out that he, at least, is a gentleman and was just worried about you and didn’t want to leave you alone overnight. He called me because he was afraid that your parents would come home early with the kids and everyone would jump to conclusions. Thank God, at least one of you had a half a brain last night.”