Page 54 of Engaging Opal

I was back in bed before Opal woke the next morning. I didn’t want her wondering where I had been if she woke up to find me gone, and I certainly didn’t want to tell her I had been up the whole night contemplating if I was the right man for her.

How could I be? There are too many parallels between me and the piece of shit who hurt her.

Opal deserves a man who’s as gentle as she is. Someone young like her, maybe a little wet behind the ears, unlike me.

I also spent a sizable chunk of time debating if I should call Atlas, but I decided against it. Opal confided in me, and I would break her trust if I were to pass it on to Atlas. I know my brother would never tell a soul, but I can’t. I’m more upset that I can’t use Atlas’s outside perspective on how I should proceed, as well as for emotional support.

When Opal yawned and turned over to look at me, her smile was nearly enough to chase my despair away.

The first words out of her mouth were, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I said hoarsely, damn near choking on the lump of emotions building in my throat. Because I do love her, love her with every fiber of my being.

But loving her doesn’t equate to me being good enough for her. I don’t feel I’m good enough, especially when I can’t help comparing myself to the sick pedophile. Lots of people could love Opal; she’s so damn easy to love. Hell, even the sicko probably loves her in a sadistic, twisted way. She still deserves more…more than the unworthy piece of shit that I am.

That doesn’t mean I don’t want her. I want her more than the fucking blood in my veins. To be the man who holds all her affections and makes her dreams a reality. I want to experience everything with her, build a life and home together. Even a family…

But I’m no better than the filth who harmed her. What kind of man looks at a fourteen-year-old girl and gets instant wood?

A fucking pig like me, that’s who. I should have known it was a dated photo in her keepsake box, locked away with all the items she has from her past. All I saw was how beautiful she was and the hell with all the rest.

Though she deserves better, I’m not sure I’m strong enough to let her go. Even as we went about the rest of our trip, I couldn’t see myself separated from her. Not now, not after everything we’ve shared. I fucking confessed my feeling for her—I’ve never done that for another woman, and I know there’ll never be another who I’ll love. Opal is it, and I’ve known it since the night I laid eyes on her.

Every chance I could during our adventure, I pulled her into my arms, kissing the hell out of her. Made love to her more times than I could count, and still hadn’t gotten my fill of her.

Opal cherished every second I showered her with affection. She was practically shining like the fucking sun, with how ecstatic she was. I’m sure she believes we’ve taken a giant step forward in our relationship when, in reality, the brake has slowly been engaged.

And it’s all because of my perverted mind.

Didn’t matter that I brought her so much joy that she glowed like a star. I still didn’t deserve her, not when I was too similar to him.

On the hour drive to the rental, I absorb as much of her as I can. I don’t know where my head is, but I don’t like the direction of my thoughts.

She deserves better. She deserves betterrepeats like a mantra in my head, driving the point home that I’m unfit to be her man. My fingers interlace with hers, refusing to separate even as my head tries to convince my body to distance itself.

From what I can see, Opal sees no change in my personality. I may be a little quieter, but my actions scream I can’t get enough of her. A decent man would end things immediately instead of trying to squeeze every drop of happiness from her before ending things. Then again, a decent man wouldn’t sexualize a teenager.

Fuck! I hate myself so much.I feel stained. Dirty.

If I end things, it’s probably best that I wait ‘till we’re home among the crew. Opal will need support, and the club will give that to her. Everyone will hate me, but I can deal. It’s what’s best for her.

Back home, I park the SUV in the driveway, staring out at the rental. The time has come, but no matter what I do, I can’t seem to extract my hand from hers—I don’t want to let her go. This won’t get easier the longer I wait, but I just can’t.

Opal waves her free hand in front of my face. “Gauge? Are you with me?”

I turn to her, my heart thumping like mad in my aching chest.

I’m no good for you, Gorgeous.

“Opal…” Why can’t I say goodbye?

Her slender fingers cup around my jaw. Her eyes search my face, trying to understand what’s wrong. The woman is too attuned to emotions to not know something is off. “Are you okay, Handsome?”

I don’t want to say goodbye…

“Opal, I can’t—”

The front passenger door opens, cutting off my words. Punk stands there with a scowl. “Church. Now. Prez has been waiting for you.”

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