Moonstruck at Midnight

Chapter 20 - Explanations

CALEB ESCORTED THOMAS AND ME to my apartment, which he only did when I was alone. "I'll be here if you need anything, Miss Murphy," he said, looking at Thomas. His voice sounded more like a warning. He seemed rattled and said he'd wait outside until Thomas left.

We were all upset, but Thomas's lip didn't look great. I wanted to help him get it cleaned up and attempt to have a conversation, if possible, hoping the adrenaline rush from the fight might've toned down his level of intoxication.

When I walked back to the living room with a small first aid kit I kept in the foyer closet, I saw Thomas sprawled across the sofa. He objected as soon as he noticed my intentions. "Your lip is still bleeding. Look at your shirt." It was blood-stained here and there. "Let's hope you don't need any stitches."

I knelt beside him to check on his lip. He winced as I slowly tapped it with a small disinfectant cloth, but he allowed me to finish cleaning the wound. I gave him a clean napkin and told him to apply pressure on the cut, hoping it would start clotting as I fetched a couple of glasses of water from the kitchen.

I wanted to know everything about Nicholas. His relationship with him, how long they'd known each other, how close they were. The nickname Tommy made me guess they went way back, probably childhood friends.

Everything Nicholas said at the party shocked and affected me.

It made me feel like there was another Thomas I didn't know, one that was already starting to do a terrible job at keeping his true self in hiding.

Thomas sat up straight to answer my questions. "We have a complicated friendship, but yeah, he is my childhood friend from D.C."

Complicated. You don't say! Besides, he didn't seem friendly at all. Nicholas's comments hurt me. My eyes welled up as I became unable to discourage myself from crying.

"What did he say to you when I was away?" Thomas wiped my tears away with his thumb. "Did he touch you?"

"He said enough."

"Please, just tell me." His voice sounded lethargic.

He said 'please,' right? Okay. I just hoped he could keep up. "Nicholas implied I was naughty after seeing us ... dance. He touched my shoulder and told me to loosen up. I brushed him away. He wanted to dance with me, so he grabbed my arm. I shook him away again. He said you didn't mind sharing every once in a while. What's up with that?" I'd been so consumed with Thomas, just him, that I didn't know anything about him besides whatever he chose to tell me.

"I'm going to fucking kill him," he said, his knuckles turning white.

"Please stop cursing. It makes me nervous when you talk like that." I wasn't against curse words, but the way he said them and the tone he used when he said them made me uneasy.

"What did Nicholas mean when he said that thing about sharing once in a while?" Thomas kept shying away from answering my questions. But I insisted until I got what I needed, just as he had taught me.

He sighed. "I went out with a girl a while ago. I really liked her. And he—snatched her away." What? To me, that sounded like the worst possible friend someone could have. I couldn't understand why he kept him around.

"What about 'mixing it up' and me not being your type? What's your type, Thomas?" I never thought I had to worry about my hair color or other physical attributes until now.

"He's just trying to mess with me. It's not like I have a type or something. I've never dated a redhead before you, that's true. But that doesn't mean anything. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. You know I love your hair, your face, everything about you," he said, reaching out to tuck my hair behind my ear. I hated seeing him like this, drunk with a split lip and a blood-stained shirt.