Page 78 of Sins and Secrets

“I’m Waverly Fucking Mcleod.” She cries out before the wave of pleasure crashes into her, and I nearly drown in it.

Her body quakes and arches before the intensity fades and she hangs limp. I quickly unhook the bar from between her legs and unlatch her from the ceiling. Holding her in my arms, pressing my forehead to hers, I say, “Yeah, you are. And I’m going to make you mine.”

I place her on the bed, cuffing her to the bed frame. Her hips are on a pillow. She’s open and ready for me. I slide a condom on and position myself between her legs. She gazes at me with adoring eyes, and I’ve never wanted anything more. There’s been a Waverly shaped hole in my life for years. No more. I’ll be waking up next to her tomorrow and the next day. We have a future.

But our past might kill us.

Her lips part and the word, “Please,” fills my ears. She’s soft and welcoming.

“Love, I need to know…”

I spent years sifting through all the possibilities. She was scared. She lost her phone. Her father told her no. But the simple fact is, I can’t trust her with my heart again if I don’t know the truth. Gone are the lustful commands and, instead, I ask in a raw and terrified voice, “Why didn’t you call when you didn’t find anything? We could’ve sorted this out years ago.”

She blinks and turns her head away. “I believed your family and all the lies they spewed about you over the years. When I saw the desk was empty, I thought Carol and Adam were right, and I was stupid enough to believe you loved me, when you were really only using me for sex.”

ChapterThirty-Two

Waverly

“What the fuck, Waverly?”He rears back like I punched him. Because I did.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. The thoughts I had years ago, the constant insecurities, they all come roaring back. He thinks I’m trash. His slut to hook up with over the summer. Nothing more. Just tits and a few holes.

He reaches for my wrist, rage and hatred radiating off of him. And I am acutely aware of how vulnerable I am. Naked and bound to his bed. I flinch and he doesn’t react. His hands work fast, unhooking me from the cuffs.

“Why would you believe them? You chose them, my fucked-up family, over me?” Every word is laced with the painful truth.

He unhooks my feet from the straps and I’m no longer open and vulnerable. With control of my body I should feel more confident, but the thought of losing him makes my insecurities bubble up instead. “I reexamined the evidence, ignored the complete lack of credibility, because”—I take a deep breath—“they included me more than my own family.” I reach out for his arm, expecting him to flinch, to pull away, but instead, he sits on the bed and his head dips low. “My whole world was thrown upside down. My life plan vanished. I was lost and confused.” I rest my head on his shoulder. “I made the wrong choice.”

“I never flew back to sort it out. I believed the lies, too,” he whispers.

My heart sinks. We both were too hurt and insecure to trust the other. The lies were easier to believe because we were scared of a happy future together. “I had gotten into Washington University.” I walked away from the program and stayed close to home.

He groans with an ache like I’ve stabbed him in the heart. The endless timelines of what could have been hurt as much as the rejection. Because the rejection was wrong, and we were robbed. Violated.

We were victims of a time assault and robbery.

I crawl toward him and touch his back. His head still hangs low. Lukas spent his whole life being rejected, shunned by the people he loved the most. He spent the last five years thinking I was one of them. I am not about to let him think I don’t want him now.

“I begged you to wait two more days to return to Seattle so we could fly together.” I wrap my arms around his neck and press my breasts against his back.

“Huh?” he says.

My lips brush between his hairline and his neck. “We spent the summer getting me ready for school. Trying to figure out what I would bring with me and what I would leave at your place.”

My hands slide across his chest and stay over his heart. It’s racing but he doesn’t move. He whispers, “What are you doing?”

“You were proud that I stopped microwaving my tea and used a kettle instead. You came so close to smiling at me.”

“Wait. Do you microwave your tea?” He lifts his head. “What are you, a savage?”

“Not anymore, you broke me of the habit.” I press ahead. “You used to complain every time we went food shopping. Then we would stop by a bakery and get your blood sugar up. About three months in, I realized you were faking it to get cookies.”

He huffs a laugh. “You offend my honor.”

“That’s what you said when I called you out.” I snake myself around his body and sit on his lap. He puts his hands on my hips and holds me steady. Looking at his face, I can see how the weight of his sorrow still hangs over him. He won’t look me in the eyes, but I know they’re red and watery.

“We spent our first Christmas together. We watched theDoctor WhoChristmas special. Which you always claimed you didn’t like.” I whisper, “I think you secretly are hoping The Doctor will return and make you his companion.”

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