Page 8 of Dancing With Doubt

Lincoln wasn’t ready for a relationship. He was still too independent and closed off for that. But then, so was she. She didn’t want another boyfriend who would only use her and break her heart in the end. She’d had enough heartbreak over the years.

A thought tried to intrude, a smile on a face, but she put that thought away, back where it belonged, in the deepest part of her mind. More heartache she didn’t want to remember tried to intrude as she sat there in the dark, trying to get a grasp on her feelings. It all served to remind her that relationships beyond friendship bring pain.

No, it would never work between Lincoln and her, she had to admit to herself as she went back to her bedroom and crawled beneath a sheet. It was hot in the room, but an open window brought in the scent of the ocean and hot tarmac. That smell had taken her a long time to get used to, but she had, and it smelled like home to her now.

Nathan had demanded she install an air conditioner in the room, or a fan at the very least, but she’d have missed that smell too much. Plus, they were prone to catching on fire if used incorrectly, or if they were faulty. It was better to be sweaty than crispy any day of the week.

Roxie pushed away the single sheet she’d pulled over herself and tried not to think about how much more comfortable Lincoln’s bed was. Or how she could ignore her phobia and enjoy the central air that kept his house cool. Or how much she missed being beside him.

Her thoughts drifted to those hot nights in Cambodia and how he’d sneak into her tent at night. They’d always slept twined together, despite the heat, despite how sweaty they’d wake up. She’d become accustomed to having his body near hers and it was hard to fall asleep on her own, as she’d been doing since they got back.

It really sucked that he pulled that shit on her today. She had to think he’d done it on purpose. She had barely heard from him since they returned, but the one time he said he needed her, he’d sprung his sister on her instead of himself. Why would he do such a bullshit thing?

He told her she needed to stop running from the past, was that whole thing about forcing her to face it? He’d decided he knew what she needed better than she did and that really stung. Sure, he told her he wanted to learn to be a dom, but was invading her privacy part of what he thought a dom did? If so, then he thought wrong.

“Fuck, I can’t sleep like this.” She drawled into the empty darkness and got out of bed. Throwing her clothes off, she headed for the bathroom. Once the shower was cool, but not freezing, she stepped inside and let her thoughts disappear. Standing under the cool blast of water cleared her mind for a moment and her body relaxed.

She stood in there for a while but had to get out when the little bit of warm water she’d mixed with the cold disappeared. For a moment, she thought about going back to the hotel. She could tolerate the AC unit running in there, they had to be serviced regularly after all. But that meant driving in the middle of the night and she didn’t have the energy.

Her phone would die if she tried to watch a movie, but she could probably get a couple of hours of reading out of it. She opened the app and tried to focus on the book she’d ordered. It was a suspense novel that soon had her in its grip, but sooner than she expected the battery warned her she was down to 15%. She’d have to take it out to her car in the morning and charge it.

She decided she’d go back to the hotel and get her stuff tomorrow too. Lincoln was a complete dick, but he was right about one thing: she had to stop running and get used to life in the apartment. She wouldn’t be able to afford to keep both places if she was done with Lincoln and since he hadn’t tried to contact her, she had to assume he was taking her seriously.

Not that she wanted him to plead his case to her. Not much, anyway. Okay, maybe a little bit. A text to feed her ego would have been nice, she thought with a grin that she quickly suppressed. She had to roll her eyes at her thoughts because she’d never been that childish or petty, but here she was, wishing Lincoln would be just a little bit miserable over losing her.

Instead, he respected her wishes. Which was good, she reminded herself, but at the same time, a little bit of pleading now that she was calm might have changed her mind. Or not. She never wanted to be wishy-washy, but shit with Lincoln was different.

Yeah, she was independent, able to take care of herself, and a fighter when she had to be. At the same time, Lincoln had turned her into a pile of mush that wanted to be acknowledged, that longed for his touch, that wanted to see him smile. Maybe he’d broken her. Was that it? Was she broken now?