Page 96 of Beyond the Grave
My heart ground to a halt. My chest hurt. "Being here with me helps."
"I was afraid you'd say that."
"I had fewer nightmares when I stayed in your rooms, back when you thought I was a boy."
"That's not possible anymore, Charlie," he said heavily.
I tucked my head beneath his chin again and wrapped my arms around him. I wasn't willing to let him go yet. "So is this it? Is this what we're reduced to? A few snatched moments in the dead of night, when you wake me from a nightmare, and then in the morning, everything returns to how it was before?"
"Not…quite as it was before."
I pulled away again. "What do you mean?"
"I mean…" He blew out a breath. It smelled faintly of brandy. "I have tried to distance myself from you. I've tried telling myself that what I feel is merely fleeting desire, nothing more. I've tried not to like it when you worry about me." He rubbed my shoulder and drew in another deep breath, then another. "But I've failed, and I continue to fail every day, every hour."
"Oh. This is…an interesting development."
"Interesting is not the word that sprang to my mind," he said wryly.
"So what are you going to do about it?"Kiss me, you big fool.
"I am yet to come to a conclusion."
My heart plunged. Some of the coolness had returned to his voice. I was losing him. The emotional man was being slowly taken over by the unemotional one again. "You're thinking through all the possible repercussions, aren't you? All the positives and negatives?"
"It's who I am; how I work."
"This is not work, Lincoln. I am not a task you have to schedule or a mystery to solve."
"You're wrong. You're the greatest mystery, Charlie. Attempting to solve why I feel for you what I do takes a lot of my energy."
"Then stop using your head and use this instead." I placed my hand against his shirt over his heart. It beat a little erratically. "Give in to what youfeel, Lincoln. Perhaps it'll become easier to understand once you do."
He brushed the pad of his thumb across the ridge of my cheek. "I can't risk it," he said on a breath. "The potential to cause damage…it's too great. If I hurt you…"
You already are, I wanted to say but didn't. My throat was too clogged, for one thing, and I didn't want to scare him away even more.
"Or if you are hurt because of your connection to me…" he whispered. I felt a shudder ripple through him and tightened my grip around him.
In that moment, with that shudder, I knew he spoke with honesty. An honesty that took enormous effort to put into words. Despite his strength and competence, Lincoln was afraid. He'd never loved anyone before or been loved in return. The only person he'd ever come close to caring about—Timmy—had died, and he had died because of his friendship with Lincoln. No wonder he was afraid. No wonder he'd tried to convince himself not to care for me.
But how to set his mind at ease? We'd been through so many dangers together, and the risks were great. There would continue to be risks, particularly if he gave me what I wanted—an active role in the ministry. Looking at it that way, I'd brought his rejection down on myself by insisting I work alongside him.
With a heavy heart, I scooted back up the bed, away from him. What I needed to say required a clear head, and I couldn't have that if I was touching him. His hand dropped to the mattress like a stone.
"I love you, Lincoln. With all my heart, I love you. I can love you despite knowing it comes with risks—that you won't love me back, or that you will one day leave me, whether you want to or not." My eyes burned and my chest ached but I was proud of the strength in my voice, and I was a little surprised by it, too. "But you're not ready to love me in the same way. The fear is tormenting you, and it will continue to torment you until you make the decision not to let it anymore. Love and fear are intertwined, Lincoln. You cannot have one without the other, and until you understand that, I'll never have all of you. And I want every last piece of you. I'm selfish that way." I sucked in a shuddery breath and let it out slowly. I wished I could see his face but it was too dark. He didn't move. "Come to me when you're ready."
His hand moved an inch toward me then settled on the mattress again. "How will I know when I'm ready?" he asked in a raspy whisper.
"When having me for just a moment is worth any risk, including losing me forever."
I heard his swallow in the dark then he stood. "I'll think about what you've said."
I smiled, despite the weight pressing down on my chest. He wasn't someone who could separate thinking from feeling. At least not yet.
"Get some sleep, Charlie." His silhouette melted into the shadows and the outer door clicked closed.
I sank beneath the covers and sighed. Had I really just thrown away the opportunity of having him? Would he ever understand what I was trying to tell him? Or would he come to me again one day, and tell me the risks were worth it?
