I remain standing between his legs, looking down somewhere else. My eyes eventually focus back on him, looking up at me. I can see everything in his face.
“Is it because you love me?” he asks.
What am I supposed to say to that? I can’t lie to myself.
Yes, I love him. I still love him. But if I say that to him, what is that going to do? It’s probably just going to end up confusing him.
“Just because I care about you, doesn't mean that we're going to get back together.”
Nodding almost imperceptibly, he then says quietly, “I know.”
He’s still holding my hand.
“But you don't want to sleep alone on Christmas,” he finishes.
Not wanting to admit it, I find myself nodding very slowly.
He nods too, as if he knew as much.
Then he shifts and makes room for me in the bed. I climb in beside him, snuggling up next to him, my back to him while I lie on my left side and he lies on his, becoming the big spoon. His arm slides around me and pulls me in close, a cozy Christmas warmth wrapping around me, one I never realized how much I missed until I was actually feeling it again.
“I miss us,” I say.
Lincoln takes a deep breath, one I can feel pressing into my back, before he exhales with a shudder.
“I miss us too,” he replies.
Chapter 17
Lincoln's POV
I'm going nuts out of my mind because Gabby has been rubbing her ass up against me, wriggling the whole time. I'm trying to be good, trying to control myself, but it's too hard. How am I supposed to sleep like this? I know I don't deserve her. I know I don't deserve this closeness or this comfort.
That hope that always rose and then fell in my heart roars to life again at her moving against me.
I can tell that she wants me as bad as I want her, and my dick strains hard against my pants. Her ass cheeks open and close over the tip of me through my boxers, and I have a deep, yearning desire to be inside her. For her to pull down her pants and for me to slide in, just like we always did when we were together.
This is one of those nights where I would have put my cock inside her from behind and oh my God… the pleasure. I want this more than anything, and all I do is beat myself up about how much I lost. But I have to be reasonable.
I pride myself on being a man of logic, and I know giving in, even if she allows me to, even if she decides to take me back, whichI sometimes think she does want, even if that's what I would want… wouldn't I be an awful person in allowing her to?
After all, I hurt her so badly. I broke her heart. Would I do the same thing again if she gave me a second chance?
A million times I've told myself no. That I would cherish that second chance. That I would cherish her and never want to let go. But she's too good for me, and I don't deserve it. Hell, I don't even deserve this. And this is maddening torture for me, just wanting to hold her even tighter, wanting us to be as close as possible.
A ragged groan escapes as I roll onto my back, fixing my gaze on the blank ceiling above.
“What are you doing?” Gabby asks.
“I… I'm not com—I just want to lie down like this, I'm sorry,” I respond.
She rolls onto her back, then pivots to her right side, eyes fixed on me.
“I'm sorry, it's not that I don't want to be close to you, it's just… it's very hard for me.”
“Is it?” she seems to say in a mocking tone.
I clamp my eyes tight, fingers scraping across my face, then clawing through my hair before grinding back down over my cheeks.
