Page 178 of Playing the Pucking Game
Fuck, is it a mistake.
His eyes are hooded with exhaustion. He’s got a good couple of days' stubble on his jaw, and his hair is messy. And his lips…damn, his lips are so full and kissable.
“What did you just say?” I ask, struggling to focus on the words I just heard.
“It’s not a conversation we need to have tonight,” he says softly, coaxing me back to his chest.
“Then why did you bring it up?”
“Because when I’m with you, I struggle to hold anything back.”
My mouth opens and closes more times than I can count with different responses to that comment. But in the end, I never decide on one.
It takes me so long, in fact, that Linc’s breathing evens out, letting me know that he’s drifted off.
I lie there listening to him, thinking about what he just said and how true it is.
So painfully true.
I walked away from what happened that night, put the biggest barrier up between us because I knew I’d end up broken. I took every annoying trait he has and turned myself against him. He saw it all and made it worse, seemingly enjoying the banter between us. But I never once suspected that he knew exactly what I was doing. That the hate I was throwing his way was nothing more than a coping mechanism because if I spent long enough convincing myself that I hated him, that everything about him was abhorrent, then maybe, just maybe, the other feeling would go away.
46
LINCOLN
Six years ago…
Her body trembles in my arms as I hold her tight. But while she’s devastated, anger and the need to hurt someone rips through me.
I don’t need her words to confirm who’s hurt her. It’s obvious. And I’m going to fucking ruin him for it.
He assured Rett that he could be trusted with his little sister.
Well…
Just look how that turned out.
She continues to cry, and I swear, each sob rips another piece of my heart away.
I hate it.
I’ve always hated it when she cried. But this time is so much worse.
This time, she is really hurting.
Eventually, she pulls back, although she doesn’t look up at me. Instead, she keeps her gaze locked on the stones beneath us.
“He…he…”
“Shush, babe. It’s okay. You don’t have to explain.”
She nods, but she either doesn’t agree or just needs to get the words out regardless.
“He’s upstairs in the hotel room he booked for us with…” My jaw tightens as disbelief flows through me. I squeeze my eyes closed for a beat, wishing her sentence ends another way, but I know what’s coming.
I’m going to fucking kill him.
“Someone else.”
