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I gave him my body.
I gave him all I had.
And I hoped that it helped.
It was only later that I told him my own confession.
“I freaked out today. I thought you were done with me.” I blurted it out as he ruined my body for the third time that night.
He stopped mid-thrust, staring down at me with his outrageous beauty, the kind I’d never, ever get over.
“I love you. And I’ll never stop,” he told me. “I’d do anything for you…I’d live for you.”
I’d never been loved before. Not by anyone. And certainly never by someone who knew that the hardest part of a love story was when your own heart was breaking. Living for someone was the most unselfish thing you could do.
CHAPTER 28
MONROE
We were having our first argument.
Or maybeIwas having my first argument.
Lincoln was being frustratingly calm about the whole thing.
I stared at the black American Express card he was holding out to me, my heart racing like a wild animal. I was already living with him, eating his food, taking up his space.
This card, it was like a loaded weapon in his hand.
I backed away from him, shaking my head frantically. "I can't, Lincoln," I said, my voice cracking. "I can't take that from you."
He stared at me, his brow furrowed as he tried to understand my special brand of crazy in that moment.
I straightened up. “I don’t need anything right now. I have my own money. You’re already not letting me pay for rent—”
“I own the whole building. There is no rent,” he interrupted gently.
I brushed my hair away from my face, the room suddenly suffocating.
“I just want you to be able to get what you need, Monroe. I just want to take care of you. I feel like it’s my life’s purpose.”
I lifted my chin stubbornly. “I don’t need to be taken care of.”
“I don’t like the idea of you not having it with you while you’re flying to the game.”
I shifted, my gaze flicking away. That was another thing we needed to talk about. He wanted me to skip school and work for the next four days. The idea of doing that was literally giving me hives.
I didn’t get paid vacation time. So I’d be losing out on four full working days.
“Is this about your mom?” he asked carefully, and I stiffened. “I know your mom—”
“No, you don’t actually know anything about my mom. You can read all the background checks in the world, and you willstillnot ever know what my mom was like.”
He was staring down at me with so much heartfelt emotion, I wanted to cry.
“Okay, sweetheart,” he murmured, putting the card back in his wallet. “We’ll talk about this later.”
He pulled me against his chest, and guilt flowed through my veins like a poisonous river, searing and burning me from the inside out.
