Page 90 of His Temptation
“In a moment of insecurity, I jumped to conclusions that were inaccurate and unfair … and I’m sorry for that. But did you ever stop to consider why I was so insecure about us?”
His dark eyes reveal his disbelief. “What did I do to make you feel insecure? You’re making this my fault?”
“No,” I gasp as my head falls back. “Ugh, I’m not trying to make it anybody’s fault. I’m just trying to explain. Maybe I was insecure because I had given my virginity to this man Iwas falling for, who I thought was feeling the same as me, but instead, he started to go off on me and act distant. He was withholding himself from me and pushing me away, letting me know how much he actually trusted me with who he really was.”
A shadow of alarm touches his face as he regards me. I watch the conflicting emotions that play in his eyes like a movie reel as he stands in silence before me.
He looks down at the ground. “You think I’ve been ignoring my feelings? Like it’s that simple?”
I throw my arms up in the air. “What else am I supposed to think? You haven’t exactly given me any reason to think anything else.”
“That’s bullshit,” he insists with returning impatience.
“No, it’s not! It’s fair. You were holding back on me. You know you were. Why?” I demand.
“It’s none of your business!” He raises his voice.
“No, that’s bullshit.” I point my finger in his face. “What the hell are you so afraid of? Why won’t you let me in?”
“Fine!” he says as he takes a step closer. “You want the truth? Here it is. Growing up, I was emotionally and verbally abused by my parents.”
The shock hits me full force, almost knocking me off of my feet.
“That’s right,” he continues. “The big secret is out. My parents treated me like shit because of my stutter. They would make me hide out in my room and refuse to let me go on family outings because they were embarrassed. They would bring me to my therapist and tell them I was broken. That I was humiliatingthem and that I was never going to amount to anything unless they fixed me.”
Regret is a bitter pill. One that is being forced down my throat at the moment. Still, I stand in front of him, unable to find words.
“I would listen to my brother and sister enjoy the company we had over downstairs while I played by myself in my room. When I got to high school, I had finally kicked the stutter. From then on, I vowed to never put myself in a position to let someone hurt me like that.”
I see the first flicker of a tear in his eye, and tears begin to form in my eyes.
He hangs his head down in defeat. “I know I treated you like shit that week of my brother’s engagement. When I get around my family, it all comes flooding back. You kept asking questions. I panicked.” He looks up at me with watery eyes. “I never wanted you to see the weakness in me that I had worked so hard to hide.”
“Lincoln,” I cry as I step closer to him.
Now we’re only inches apart. There’s a hint of wonder in his eyes as I stroke his cheek with my fingers. He closes his eyes as I watch his chest rise and fall.
When he opens his eyes again, there’s something else there. Acceptance. Calmness. “There’s another thing you have wrong.”
My head falls to the side. “What is that?”
“You weren’t the only one who fell in love.”
A knot rises in my throat. My hand falls to my side. I don’t move a muscle, as if one wrong move could destroy the moment. I should say something. For the first time in my life, words fail me.
Instead of worrying about words, I do what feels natural. I lift up to my tiptoes and place both hands on his cheeks, then lean in and press our lips together. He remains still for a moment, making me worry that I overstepped.
What if he’s not feeling what I thought he was?
Maybe I read the entire situation wrong. Before I can pull back, his arms wrap around my body. One hand finds my lower back, and the other goes to the back of my head as he deepens the kiss. My entire body falls against his as I melt in his arms.
I kiss him back with everything that I have in me, wrapping my arms around his neck to get closer. It isn’t sweet. It isn’t gentle. It is fire and fury. We move our lips against each other’s, and his tongue sends shivers down my spine.
When he pulls away from me, he rests his forehead against mine, our chests rising and falling quickly. It feels like I just ran a marathon with how intensely my heart is beating inside of me.
I move my head back so I can see his face.
“I’m sorry,” I breathe out softly. “I’m so sorry. Everything I said to you—I didn’t mean any of it. It was wrong of me to accuse you like that. To say those things about you.”
