Conflicted - Page 53

“It’s fine,” I assure him.

I walk over to the bed on the left and pull back the blankets. I climb in, remove my jeans, and place them on the floor next to me. I shuffle around, trying to get myself comfortable. The broken springs from within the mattress dig into my back, making me ache, but it’s better than sleeping in the car.

I toss and turn for what feels like hours, but a glance at my phone tells me it’s barely been one. Sighing, I roll back onto my back. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Aaron sprawled out on his bed, reading. He looks over at me, a smirk on his lips.

“Not sure how I’m going to sleep with you snoring,” he says.

“I do not snore,” I mumble, my cheeks heating. I slide my bum up so I’m sitting cross-legged at the head of the bed. Reaching up, I tuck my hair behind my ears and strain to see what he’s reading. He holds the book up for me.

“I wouldn’t have picked you for a James Patterson fan,” I say, raising an eyebrow. “I’m sure you’d know by page four who did what.”

He laughs and sets the book down, turning to face me. He sits on the edge of his bed and rests his arms on his legs. He’s so close I can almost feel the warmth radiating off his body. I shiver.

“There’s plenty you don’t know about me,” he says.

“Is that because you ‘withhold the truth’ so much?” I taunt, using his own words against him.

He grimaces, reaching up to rub his jawline.

“Sorry, that was harsh.”

“Maybe, but I deserve it.” He sighs, his eyes searching mine. “I didn’t tell you the truth so you would pity me, Lacey.”

“I know, but…” I sigh and shake my head. How can I not feel sorry for him?

“Lacey,” he whispers. He takes my hand, entwining his fingers in mine. “Please don’t pity me. I don’t want your sorrow—what I want is you.”

He stands up, pulling me to my feet. My heart races as he caresses my neck, lifting my lips to his. My whole body shivers as his mouth encases mine. His touch is soft and tender, yet at the same time urgent and rough.

He moves back onto his bed, taking me with him. He lies down on t

he mattress as I straddle him. I gasp as he runs his strong hands up over my bare thighs, resting them on my hips. His fingers brush past my bare entrance and I gasp.

“God,” I whimper as his thumb enters me. My nails dig into his shoulders as I ride him, as his kisses pepper my neck. I swallow hard and squeeze my eyes closed. I want him so bad I ache, but I can’t do it. Because he isn’t Lucas. Angry, I try to brush thoughts of him aside, but it’s no use.

“Aaron, stop.” I cradle his face in my hands.

His eyes meet mine and he sighs.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I can’t.”

“It’s okay. I understand,” he says. “It’s Lucas, right?”

“It’s everything,” I whisper, my heart snapping in two.

He lifts me off him and stands up, grabbing the spare blanket from the end of the bed. “I think maybe it’s best if I sleep in the car.”

“Don’t be silly,” I argue, climbing back under my own covers. “I just—”

“Easier for me, I meant,” he cuts in. “I can’t be around you and not act on it, Lacey. It’s not fair on either of us, being forced to sleep in the same room.”

I watch, open-mouthed, as he walks out, closing the door quietly behind him. Am I selfish because I’ve never even thought about his feelings or am I a saint because I’m at least considering them now? I don’t know how I’m supposed to be feeling.

Rolling over onto my side, I pull the blankets up to my neck and close my eyes. I should never have let it get that far just as much as he should never have put me in that position. I lie there, trying to dissect what I’m feeling. Why am I so drawn to Aaron? Lucas is the only man I’ve ever felt any sort of connection with. Is what I feel for Aaron because they’re blood? They’re so alike that I’m stupid for not seeing the connection earlier. Aaron is Lucas in twenty years. They share so many similarities, from the psychical things like their crooked smiles and piercing, dark eyes to how passionate they are about the things they love. What does Aaron offer me that Lucas can’t? Then it hits me.

Maybe I’m attracted to Aaron because it’s a place I can’t get to with Lucas. In a strange, fucked-up way, I feel closer to Lucas through Aaron. I laugh and shake my head. In a way that makes no sense at all, it makes perfect sense.

What the hell am I doing?

Tags: Missy Johnson Romance
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