Page 182 of What's Left of Us

“It was…convenience. A lie. A rouse. But when it blossomed, it was ugly and beautiful all at once.”

I hear her say it again.

And again.

And again.

*

When the apartmentdoor swings open, Georgia’s eyes widen. “Linco—”

I don’t give her a chance to speak before my mouth is on hers. She immediately melts into my front and kisses me back. Herhands find my shoulders, then trail down my back, and wind up at my hips, gripping my shirt.

When I pull back, I lean my forehead against hers. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Why didn’t you tell me you loved me? Why didn’t you tell me about Powell? I have so many fucking questions and not enough patience in the world to get them answered.

The amber in her eyes becomes glossy. “If I told you what I needed to do, would you have let me?”

She knows my answer.

I wouldn’t have.

“I wanted to tell you,” she says. “You always had big goals in your life, and the last thing I wanted was for you to lose them because you got involved in something dangerous. If one of us was going to risk it, I needed it to be me. What did I have to lose?”

Letting out a harsh breath, I whisper, “Me.”

Her inhale is shaky.

I wipe away a fallen tear. “Peaches,” I whisper, feeling the words get stuck in my throat. “Why didn’t you tell me you loved me?”

She sniffles, biting her bottom lip. “By the time I realized I did, it was too late.”

Fuck me.

We were protecting each other and ripping each other apart at the same damn time.

“I need you,” I tell her, closing the distance between us.

I pick her up and carry her into the bedroom. When her back hits the mattress, it’s a rush of fallen clothing and desperate touches. My lips find any piece of skin they can, savoring the smell, the taste, and the warmth I’ve been missing.

As I tug off my jeans and leave a trail of kisses up her stomach, between her breasts, and into the crook of her neck, her palms gently push on my chest.

Her eyes drift over the scar, her shaky fingers grazing over it as a loose breath escapes her. “I need you to promise me something.”

I’ve never let anybody other than my doctor touch me there. The sensation leaves goose bumps over every inch of my skin when her featherlight touch caresses the rough tissue.

“Anything.”

Her other hand cups my face, making me look her in the eye. “I need you to promise me that it’s over. Whatever you have against my father is done. Because I can’t—” Her voice breaks, making my heart sink. “I can’t go through this again. I can’t lose you again, if I even still have you. I don’t want to sit at home wondering if you’re coming back to me or if somebody else took you before I ever had the chance to say I’m sorry and that I love you. Because I do, Lincoln. And I should have said it before, but I couldn’t. I just…”

“You needed to trust me first.”

A stream of tears rolls down her face, and I try using the pads of my thumbs to swipe them away as they come.

“Don’t cry,” I plead. “You put away someone you cared about forme. Nothing I can do will ever compare to that level of love, but I will try my fucking hardest to show you that I’m worthy of it.”

She releases a breath. “We need help, Linc. I think we’ve crossed too many lines to start over without somebody to guide us.”

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