Chapter Thirty-Five

Raleigh

“Oh, God!” I groan, clutching my hands to my head as I roll over in bed, only to be stopped halfway when I roll into what I desperately hope is Serenity.
“What time is it?” A female voice mutters sleepily.
“Oh, thank God,” I murmur to myself as I turn to face her, watching as she puts a hand to her own head and groans.
“Way too early. How much did we drink last night?” I ask, trying to remember everything that went down at the party.
Serenity squints her eyes at me and purses her lips, as though she’s thinking, then she asks, “What exactly do you remember from last night?”
Closing my eyes, I lay my head back against my pillow and try to remember.
I think back on the night before, trying to piece the night together.

I remember…
Serenity guilting into giving the party a shot.
Drinking and dancing out on the dance floor with Serenity.
Actually having a good time.
Missing Lincoln.
Becoming turned on at the thought of having Lincoln’s hands on me as I gyrated to the best of the sensual song that was coming through the speakers.

Then, things become a little fuzzy…
I try harder, knowing that there had to have been more to the night than just drinking, dancing and thoughts of my boyfriend.

Then, I remember…
A body coming up behind me, their hands trailing up and down my sides before fitting to my curves.
That I desperately wanted it to be Lincoln. But, when I turn around to face my dance partner…it’s Brady.
My stomach turns at the memory, just as it had last night, at the sight of him, the audacity that he had to put his hands on me when he knew for a fact that I’m with Lincoln.
Leaving the dance floor because Brady and I needed to talk, set some boundaries. Set some ground rules.
Then, he dragged me up the stairs and into a room where he…

“Oh God…” I cry as an onslaught of images of what happened in that bedroom flood my mind, as well as what followed after.
Lincoln and his brother barging into the room that I had been in and Serenity being there with them.
The sound of Lincoln’s voice.
The anger that laced his words.
Anger for me because I’d betrayed him.
I begin sobbing as the reality of everything that happened last night comes crashing down on me.
“Shh, shh,” my best friend coos as she wraps her arms around me, pulling me into her chest and then cradling my head against her as I cry into the fabric of her t-shirt.
Not only was I violated last night, by someone who I had previously thought of as a brother figure and one of my best friends, but I also just validated Lincoln’s concerns that there was something going on between Brady and I.
Because even though there has never been anything more than a close friendship before, a line was crossed last night. A line that can’t be uncrossed.
“He has to hate me now,” I mutter against her shoulder.
“What?” Serenity asks, leaning back while also pulling be away from her so that she can hear me more clearly.
“Lincoln,” I say, his name coming out as a sob. “I’m going to lose him.”
“Oh, honey,” she says with a sad smile. “You’re not going to lose him.”
“He probably hates me now,” I say with a shake of my head, barely holding back a fresh round of tears. “He already thought that I wanted to be with Brady instead of him and I just confirmed it last night.”
I turn away, unable to look her in the eye, not wanting to see the judgement on her face any more than I had wanted to see it on Lincoln’s last night.
She places two fingers beneath my chin, forcing me to look at her. Her face is full of understanding but the look in her eyes is certain as she says, “No, sweetheart. You didn’t.”
“You don’t know that,” I try but she shakes her head in disagreement.
“Yes, I do. That man is absolutely crazy for you. He was pissed last night when he showed up but not *at* you, but because of what that bastard did *to* you.”
“I don’t want to lose him,” I sob, burying my face in her shoulder once more.
“You aren’t going to lose me,” a voice says from behind me.
Gasping, I whip around toward where the sound of the voice came from, unable to believe my eyes as I take in the sight of Lincoln standing in my bedroom doorway.
“Ww—what are you doing here?” I ask, not trusting my ears nor my eyes to be telling me the truth, for all I know, I’m seeing what I want to see.
“I needed to see you. Needed to make sure you were okay after…” he trails off, casting a quick glance at Serenity before bringing his blue gaze back to me.
He takes a tentative step inside of my room, as if waiting to see what my reaction to his nearness will be. When I don’t react, he takes another, then another. Soon, the space between us is nothing more than him standing at the edge of my bed as I scramble away from Serenity and launch myself at him.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t—“ I start, my face buried in his neck as I breathe in the scent of him. My words are quickly cut off by Lincoln when he growls, “Do not *ever* apologize for that son of a bitch or for what he did to you.”
I pull back needing to see the look in his eyes as he looks at me, because I can’t wrap my head around why he’s not furious with me. When I don’t see anything but an emotion I’m not yet ready to label, let alone address, I try again. “But—“
“No buts,” he snarls. “That sick fuck took advantage of you.”
Lincoln takes me in, his eyes roaming over my face before he sighs, his voice low when he says, “You don’t believe me, do you?”
“I—” I start to tell him that I do believe him, but as much as I don’t want him to be mad at me, I can’t wrap my head around how he couldn’t be. If the roles were reversed, wouldn’t I be mad? I release a resigned sigh and unable to look him in the eye, I glance down, shaking my head no.
“Then I guess I’m just going to have to prove it to you,” he says as she slips a hand behind my neck, cradling the back of my head with his big hand and using the other to turn my face up to his just as his lips come down on top of my own.
I hear my bedroom door quietly shut just as he lowers me down onto my bed, his large frame crawling over my much smaller one.
Lincoln deepens the kiss, his tongue delving inside of my mouth to duel with my own. His knee lands between my thighs as he knocks them apart to make room for him. Slowly, he begins trailing is hands down the length of my arms, his fingertips just barely skating over my skin and causing goosebumps to break out all over my body.
When his hands reach my own, he clasps them together, twining his fingers with mine before bringing them up above my head, where he moves them both to just one hand before lowering his free hand to cup my breast, where he finds my hard, pebbled nipple and begins pinching it between his thumb and finger, forcing a gasp to fall from my lips just as my hips buck up at the sensation that goes straight to my clit.
“After you hung up,” he rasps, his voice thick with emotion. He places his forhead against my own, his eyes pinched tightly shut as he moves his head back and forth. “I was so fucking scared, Baby.”
I wait, not wanting to interrupt him until he gets out all that he wants to say, knowing that it can’t be easy for him to make himself vulnerable like he is by telling me this.
“I was pissed and wanted to rip the mother fucker limb from fucking limb,” he says, his voice deep and low. It’s then that I realize that he’s shaking, trembling.
“It’s okay.” I tell him, moving my hands to cup his cheeks in my palms. “You don’t have to.”
He shakes his head once more, his eyes still pinched shut.
After a few moments, he pulls back, his eyes fierce and full of pain as he says, “I need to know what he did to you.”
“N-no…Lincoln, I can’t,” I say quickly, my heart racing at the mere thought of reliving it all over again, let alone voicing what happened to Lincoln.
“Please,” he says, his eyes pleading with me. “I need to erase the memory of everything he did to you from your memory, erase his touch from your body.”