Page 216 of My Temptation (Kingston Lane)

I sit onto the couch. He tentatively sits down beside me.

“Start talking,” I say.

“Well, firstly . . . I want to apologize. I’ve been out of line.” He pauses as if collecting his thoughts.

You think?

“My behavior last night was just . . . terrible,” he continues. “I didn’t mean any of it. I don’t know what came over me, and I don’t know why I acted like that.”

“Like what? Aggressive and abusive?”

His gaze drops to the floor.

Silence . . .

My heart sinks.

Why do I feel bad for upsetting him?

“Why do you act like this?” I ask him.

“I don’t know . . . ,” he whispers. “It’s like . . . my feelings for you bring out the darkest part of my personality.”

What?

What do you even say to that?

“You said you were trying to get better?” I eventually ask.

“I am,” he says hopefully. “I go twice a week, and Aaron says I’m making progress.”

“Aaron?”

“The psychologist.”

“Making progress with what?”

He hesitates . . .

“Hen.” I look him square in the eye. “Now is the time for honesty,” I say softly. “You at least owe me that.”

He nods. “I . . .” He licks his bottom lip. “I know.” He wrings his hands nervously on his lap. “The thing is . . . and there is no easy way to say this, but . . . I’m fucked up.”

No shit, Sherlock.

“How so?”

He continues to twist his hands together on his lap . . .

“Hen?”

“Well, I always thought I was like this because I hadn’t found the right woman and I’m happy on my own. It’s never bothered me.”

Where is this going?

“Right . . .”

“But then I met you, and I wanted more, but . . .” His voice trails off.

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