That Girl (That Girl, #1)(22)

I’ve never felt so lost in my emotions. One minute, there’s nothing but him in the moment and wanting more with him. Then it only takes his asking about my past to bring that high to an abrupt halt. Am I being too sensitive? Can he get over never knowing about my past? Can I truly stand by his side? Do I even deserve the chance?

I’m really lost, and currently drowning in desire and burning in shame.





Chapter 8





No Choice at 1,014 Miles



Staring at the television on the dresser willing it to turn on for the last thirty minutes hasn’t resulted in anything. There was an old television in the room when I rented it and the same black cables coming from the wall, but no workee this time. I even checked and double-checked the power cord, and still nothing. Tonight I’m choosing to will the bastard to work with my mind. Last resort kind of deal.

I’m realizing only working four nights a week at Boone’s is not enough, because I’m absolutely going stir-crazy. I could walk to the grocery store, but one can only own so much cereal.

I’ve kept Lincoln off my mind all day while working, but now he’s on the forefront of it. His smell, smile, and kind words are all filling my head and making me want to scream. I should’ve stayed last night and not run. I do believe that wholeheartedly but just can’t make the conscious effort to take the leap. I do, I do want Lincoln in my life, but I f*cked up.

Tears begin to roll down my cheeks, blurring my eyes and dulling the pain I just realized I brought all on myself. Finally, sleep takes over.

“Oakley,” someone shouts.

There’s pounding on the door and another, “Oakley.”

Then more knocks. Sitting up, with the foggy haze clearing slowly, I glance over at my alarm clock and realize I was out for over two hours.

“Oakley, you home?”

Finally, I realize where the noise is coming from. My door, not my dreams. Stumbling up, I go for the door. My body reacts so fast I don’t have to time get spooked or wonder who in the hell is there.

Opening the door, I stare at Lincoln standing there in his typical ball cap, tank top, and gym shorts, holding a coffee and a bag of pastries.

“You said it was coffee and doughnut night, right?” he asks, almost shyly.

“What? How… How did you know where I live?” I ask, slurring my speech from the sleep still lingering in my brain.

“I’ve watched you walk to this motel room every night. I couldn’t step away until I saw you enter your room safely.”

“Okay, so what are you doing here, then?”

“Doughnuts and coffee,” he suggests again.

“Oh yeah, sorry, just woke up. Actually, I was dead asleep.”

“I’m sorry. I can leave,” he says, turning to walk away.

“No,” I yelp and grab his shoulder.

“I’m sorry for leaving you. I’ve never done this. I think about you and want to get to know you, but I can’t talk about my past. Ever.” I silently urge him to accept this boundary, that what I can offer will somehow be enough.

“Doughnuts and coffee. That’s all we have to do tonight. Small steps. I won’t ask any more about you. You share when you feel like it, okay?”

I feel my tension decrease slightly. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Just a couple things I have to know, though.”

“Lincoln, I can’t.” So much for my decreasing tension.

“Just hear me out.”

I sigh. “Fine.”

I point to the broken-down picnic table outside of my room. It might actually be more comfortable in the room, temperature-wise, than outside, but I’m not ready for that.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“For what?”

“This,” I gesture with my hands.

“Why? It’s perfect.”

“Far from it.”

“It’s perfect because you’re here.” He smiles, and my heart stutters.

Not waiting for my reaction, Lincoln leans in and kisses me on the lips. It’s quick, sweet, and simple, but a feeling worth remembering for the rest of my days. The kiss is over before I can blink. My lips buzz with all sorts of sensations.

“I have a feeling you’re pretty damn bullheaded, so instead of giving you the chance to argue with me, I just proved a point.”

“That was my first,” I whisper.

My hands cover my lips, trying to seal him to them forever. I look up at Lincoln’s face and see desire and pride covering it. I’m assuming the pride is from knowing he was my first kiss.

“Well, then, by all means,” he says.

Before the last word leaves his mouth, his lips are covering mine, and this time it’s not as sweet as the first, but just as tasty. Lincoln grabs the back of my head, pulling me closer to him. I realize after several seconds that I’m simply sitting here enjoying the kiss of the century and not kissing him back. The thing is, I have no clue what to do, so I memorize every movement his lips make and mimic them back to him. Instinctively, my tongue runs the length of his lips, and this must be the right move, because it causes him to growl.

Lincoln’s hands move from the back of my head, lower down my back, and I find myself melting into every single piece of him. My body wants him something fierce. A loud siren startles me and shatters the sweet moment. The sound causes me to jump up just enough to break the kiss and tag Lincoln in the nose with my teeth.