Page 45 of Don't Make Me Beg
I nearly jump out of my skin when I feel Luka’s palm slide to my lower back, pulling me closer to him. “Stop fidgeting,” he whispers in a commanding voice, sending a wave of chills up my spine.
I barely have time to recover when the front door swings open and I’m met with Mr. and Mrs. Kingsley’s smiling faces.
“Well, I’ll be. I guess the rumors really were true,” Mrs. Kingsley says before pulling me into a bone-crushing hug. “It is so good to see you, sweetie,” she says into my hair as she plants kisses on top of my head. Mrs. Kingsley may be a slight woman, but she’s stronger than she looks, and I know I don’t stand a chance trying to wiggle out of her hug… good thing I don’t want to.
God, I’ve missed this. I almost forgot what it felt like to feel so wanted, so accepted, not to mention tolerated. I am convinced that if everyone had a family like this, a family who loved them unconditionally for not only who they are but whoever they want to become… There would be no evil or hatred or fighting. Hugs like this can heal a lifetime of wounds, and despite feeling like Judas himself, I let myself soak it up.
“Come on in. Sounds like you two have a lot to catch us up on,” Mr. Kingsley says as he claps Luka on the shoulder and waves us in.
He may be smiling, but I don’t miss the flash of hurt on his face when his eyes meet Luka’s. And just like that, my guilt is right back with a vengeance.
We follow them through the foyer as I try to force myself to act natural. Luka must notice my struggle because he wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me into him. “Relax, Girl Scout. You look too stiff.” He smooths a hand over my arm and whispers. “We’re newlyweds, remember?”
I nod as I try to swallow the lump in my throat.
“I must say, I was shocked when I heard the news, but I wasn’t surprised,” Mrs. Kingsley says as we make our way into the dining room. “I always knew the two of you would find your way back to each other… eventually.”
“Mom, I told you it wasn’t anything personal,” Luka says. “It was sort of a sporadic moment, and we wanted to keep it just between us.” He looks at me when he adds, “You know how Scout’s family feels about me… So we just figured it’d be easier for everyone if we kept it just between the two of us.”
I feel my throat tighten with emotion because… wow… how is he so good at this? That felt so real, and I’m not sure I could’ve come up with a more believable excuse if I tried.
Mrs. Kingsley nods like she understands, though it’s clear that her feelings are still hurt from being left out. I hate that I’m the reason she feels this way, even if it’s all a ruse.
But what I truly can’t get over is how healthy this entire conversation has been. Rather than giving Luka the cold shoulder or passive aggressively making snide remarks like my parents’ go-to conflict resolution style, she simply told him that it hurt her feelings. No beating around the bush, no hiding behind pleasantries.
No wonder Luka’s so confident in himself. With this type of healthy and direct communication, he doesn’t have to constantly examine everyone around him to pick up on their mood changes.He knows that if there’s a problem, they’ll communicate that to him.
What must that feel like?
I’m still scratching my head trying to fathom it when I see Guy attempting to discreetly sneak a deviled egg by quickly shoving the entire thing in his mouth in one bite.
“Guy Francis! I asked you to wait five minutes. I told you not to mess up my presentation,” Mrs. Kingsley scolds. And if I didn’t already feel guilty, her going all out only lays it on thicker.
Guy holds up his hands innocently. “That was only my first one! You know I have a weakness for deviled eggs. Do you really expect me to resist when they’re sitting there unattended?—”
“He’s right, a man can only endure so much temptation before he breaks,” Luka says, and when his eyes meet mine, he winks.
Apparently, that one little flirtatious gesture is all it takes because I instantly feel my cheeks flame in response. I hate how easily affected I am by him. And I hate even more that he knows it. As if he needed anything else to hold over my head, now I’ve got to worry that he’s going to embarrass me, knowing damn well I’m a terrible liar.
It’s not that I don’t trust him… I wouldn’t have gone through with this marriage if I didn’t… I guess I just didn’t realize how much control I was giving him.
And now that it’s done, I’m feeling more vulnerable than ever with this imbalanced power dynamic. It’s absolutely nerve-racking, never knowing what he’s going to do or say. And as much as I hate the constant anxiety, I can’t help but notice how alive it makes me feel.
For someone who’s spent her whole life following the rules, there’s something so dangerously exhilarating about the way he looks at me, knowing he has the power to destroy me. That he could ruin me at any moment… and still wanting him anyway.
I’m pulled out of my thoughts when Roman comes thudding down the stairs. “Bartholomew’s fortress is officially complete.” He looks like he came straight from work, wearing khakis and a tucked-in baby blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He squeezes the trigger of the electric drill he’s holding, and his eyes go wide when he notices me, but ever the gentleman, he quickly masks his shock with a warm smile.
I take it he wasn’t aware of our arrival; he must’ve been busy installing whatever it was he was building upstairs.
His smile beams with something that looks a lot like mischief as he looks between Luka and me. “Good to see you, sis.”
I swallow a gulp, feeling my body tense. “Yeah. Good to see you too, Roman.” My voice cracks on his name, and if our situation didn’t seem suspicious before, it’s certainly starting to now.
Luckily, Luka doesn’t seem to have any issues with lying. Hell, if anything, I think he’s enjoying himself just watching me suffer. He clears his throat, drawing the attention back to himself, and says, “I don’t know about everyone else, but I’m starving.” He’s close enough to my ear that it seems like he’s talking only to me, but loud enough for everyone to hear. There’s a friendly, almost flirtatiousness in his voice, and I can almost feel it vibrating in my bones.
What the hell is he doing to me? It’s as if he’s managed to hijack my brain, inserting himself inside against my will. Honestly, with all the technology he has in his house, it’s not that outlandish of an explanation…
“Now that we’re all here, why don’t we all take a seat,” Mrs. Kingsley says, and Luka’s already pulling out my chair for me. “Roman, can you help me bring everything to the table?”
