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I wasn't pleased about having to go back to our bedroom, mainly because I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of thinking I was stepping back from my choices.

My frown deepened the moment I took a seat on the corner of our bed, stubbornness welling up inside me and almost making me explode.

"Can't I go back to Nick's?" I protested.

"No, you can't go back to Nick's." The irritation in his voice was evident.

"Why not?" I knew I was being annoying, but I wanted to make it clear that I was still mad at him and wasn't comfortable here.

"Because you're both drunk."

His words angered me, as it felt like he was implying something could happen between us. Since he wasn't very clear about the point of his sentence, my interpretation of it made me angry on so many different levels.

"Oh, you're worried I'm gonna sleep with Nick?" I crossed my arms, "First of all, it's none of your business, and second, you're disgusting to think-"

"Jesus, I meant somebody needs to take care of you. And Nick. So you're staying with me, and Nick is staying with George."

His explanation made perfect sense, logical even, but in my drunken state, I still felt a surge of annoyance at his answer. I pouted and crossed my arms, stubbornly refusing to admit that he was right and I got it wrong. In my head, he changed his initial thought because of how I reacted to it.

"I don't need to be taken care of. I can take care of myself."

Honestly, I was starting to annoy myself. I don't even know what my problem was. I could just sleep and leave in the morning, but I chose to be difficult for no reason at all. And I was very surprised by his patience.

He glanced over at me with an exasperated expression. And I decided to just shut up and spend the night here with no further complaints.

So I buried my body into the softness of the bed and tried to ignore the way the room seemed to tilt and sway around me.

And then I slept like a corpse. I was pleasantly surprised. I didn't get up even once to throw up. I know three shots was nothing, but usually even one was enough to take me down.

Did I learn to drink?

Holy shit, this is awesome!

I probably just got lucky, but still, my body didn't let me down this time. At least it proved Clay that he was overreacting.

Speaking of Clay.

I completely ignored his presence, only goving him a vague nod when he asked if I was feeling okay. I grabbed some clothes, showered, changed, and tried to leave the house before he could get the chance to annoy me and ruin my day with his lectures about how I should stay away from alcohol and how wrong I was for drinking.

However, I was stopped in my tracks as he positioned himself in front of the door, blocking my path as I was trying to sneak out.

"Where are you going?" He asked.

"I'm leaving," I tried to sidestep around him and reach for the doorknob.

"Where?"

"None of your business."

Clay's facial expression hardened a bit at my rude response, clearly not amused by my attitude.

"You're not going anywhere yet," he asserted, his voice firm. "We need to talk. I have something important to tell you."

"Don't drink, it's bad for you, you're intolerant, you could end up in the hospital, you could get in trouble, you could die," I listed all of the things he was gonna say. "I know all of that, I don't need a reminder, and I also do not fucking care."

It was almost humorous how accurately I was able to predict what he would say, and Clay couldn't help but let out a frustrated sigh.

"Yeah, well, you clearly didn't remember any of that last night. So excuse me for wanting to make sure it's actually sinking in this time."

"Did any of those things happen? No. Leave me alone and let me have fun."

Clay's frustration grew at my response. I could tell his patience was wearing thin.

"Fun?" He repeated. "Is that what you call it? Getting drunk off your ass for some stupid revenge just because I went out yesterday?"

"Oh yes, because everything is about you and anything I do is associated with you."

My mocking response seemed to hit a nerve.

"I'm not making this about me," he said through gritted teeth. "I'm just saying we should just stop this bullshit and go back to normal cause there's nothing stopping us."

"We went 'back to normal' like ten times in the past week. You never learn and you don't want to learn because you think you know better than everyone else."

"You say that only because you think you know everything," He shot back. "You think you're so damn perfect and have the moral high ground all the time, don't you? You think if I'm not doing something your way, then whatever I'm doing is wrong. Well, you're wrong. You're just as messed up, but you like putting the blame on others so you don't see it."

There was a moment of tense silence as we stood there, glaring at each other. Neither of us wanted to back down or admit that the other had a point.

"At least I don't text my exes behind your back and lie about it." The frustration the memory brought back to me was still fresh.

"Oh, we're bringing that up again, are we? The same stupid argument over and over again," he was attempting to deflect. "To me it didn't even matter if I was texting my ex, my enemy or the fucking president as long as it was for your safety. And trust me, texting her was something I would avoid at all costs, yet I did it for your safety. So stop being so stubborn and understand my point of view."

"So I should thank you for it?" I was in disbelief. "Thank you, Clay. Thank you so much for lying to me and secretly texting your ex for my safety. It was a really nice surprise and didn't hurt at all!"

"You're not even trying to understand why I did what I did. I was worried about you. I know not telling you was a bad thing, but you wanted to ignore the problem, and I couldn't ignore it as hard as I tried. Liz, it was about you getting drugged. Just because we got lucky and you didn't finish your drink that night doesn't mean it wasn't serious. It's not stupid drama. It's not me being overly protective. It's serious. Please try to understand me."

I sighed and crossed my arms, falling silent. Either I was exhausted from fighting and repeating the same things over and over again, or I really was trying to understand him.

He took the opportunity to get closer to me before he could continue.

"And I don't know if you care or not, but I've been looking through it this whole time and yesterday I finally got some answers."

I couldn't even be mad at him anymore for doing what he did. I had already broken up with him over it. There was literally nothing stopping him.

"And?" I said, unfazed, "Did you find them?"

"Yes. It was that guy. The one you had a thing with. Derrick."

I furrowed my brows. He continued.

"He's been obsessed with you for years. You rejected him, right? A couple of times? He even reached out while we were already dating and you turned him down."

What he said was true. And I fully expected him to blame me for not telling him about this guy. But I honestly didn't think it was a big deal back then. Yes, he was annoying, but he didn't seem like a threat.

And Clay wasn't even done.

"It was him. My ex and your friend were involved too. They've been giving him information and stuff. He even tried to get unseen photos of you from your social media photographer. He sent the flowers that day, he spiked your drink, he took the video of you leaving the club with Nick, and god knows what else he's done or would do. But the police are dealing with him now, so it's all good."

I froze in my spot.

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