Page 41 of Into Temptation

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

“What ’bout Rory?” I ask, brushing the hair from her cheek.

She leans into my touch, her lips parting. “I’ll deal with him tomorrow. Now, I just want to be with you.”

Against my better judgment, I nod, condemning us both to a fate that was always sealed with a bloodied kiss.

I open the door with Babydoll still clinging onto me. She’s so delicate, so light. I walk us toward my home and unlock the door. “I’m sorry the place is a mess,” I say, kicking aside the mop and bucket.

She merely snuggles closer to me.

I walk us toward the bedroom, wishing I had something nicer to offer her. All that’s in here is a double bed mattress on the floor. “I haven’t had a chance to get a proper bed,” I explain, but she shakes her head.

“I don’t care.”

I lower her onto the mattress, and she untangles herself from my arms, slipping under the blankets sluggishly. Her long brown hair contrasts with the white pillow. She looks too perfect in my bed.

Needing a breather, I go into the bathroom and grip the sink, taking a moment to compose myself. Looking into the mirror, I wrestle with my emotions—should I tell her the truth? Should I tell her Brody is not my father?

I thought keeping the truth from her would spare her further pain, but the scars on her wrists detail the pain she carries is a part of her always. I decide to sleep on it because telling her when she’s half-cut is not the best plan.

Brushing my teeth, I undress down to my boxers because I can’t sleep with anything else on. Switching off the light, I pray that Babydoll has succumbed to sleep, but when I walk into the bedroom, I see she’s wide-awake.

She turns her head to look at me, and with the full moon beaming in from the window, it allows her to see I’m only in boxers. She quickly averts her gaze, embarrassed.

Pulling back the blankets, I slip into bed and shift onto the edge, needing to put as much space as possible between us. My back is to her, which I know is rude, but it’s been so long since I shared a bed with anyone, I don’t know how to act or feel.

“Ex favilla nos resurgemus,” she whispers, reciting the tattoo across my chest, reciting our parting words to each other ten years ago. “From the ashes we will rise. It’s so appropriate to what’s happened over the past ten years.”

When I got the tattoo, I felt connected to it as I could relate to every word. It seems Babydoll can as well.

“Do you think we will ever live a normal life?”

I ponder over her question. “I thought gettin’ married to the man of yer dreams is supposed to be normal?”

There is no sarcasm behind my words, just genuine curiosity. When she sighs, I risk turning over to look at her.

She appears torn, and I wonder why. “Rory is everything I could ever ask for. He’s such a good man. He loves me.”

I try not to let my hurt show.

“But he’s not that.”

“Not what?” I ask, confused.

She licks her lips before inching toward me. Like two magnets, we’re drawn to one another without choice. “Not the man of my dreams.”

I don’t ask who is because I know.

She places her hands under her cheek and rests on them, looking at me closely. She’s waiting for me to reply, but I don’t. I won’t do that to Rory. He deserves happiness, and Babydoll once believed she could find happiness with him.

Me being back has just brought up old memories which are better left buried.

I need to be strong. If I surrender to what I want, I will hurt my best friend. I’ll also hurt the only woman I’ll ever love.

Babydoll’s breaths are uneven. I know she’s nervous. I also know if I were to give in to temptation, she wouldn’t stop me. But come morning, she’d feel nothing but guilt for betraying Rory and also, herself.

Instead, I offer her what I can.

Gently drawing her toward me, I wrap my arms around her and hug her tight. “Sometimes, the wrong choices bring us to the right places. Rory is the right place for ye, Babydoll.”

She sighs, understanding that I will always be the wrong choice…no matter how right this feels.

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