You didn’t deny it.
Lincoln:
I didn’t think I’d have to.
I bite my lip, guilt slamming through me. Is this all my fault? Did I overreact?
Me:
She knew things, Linc. Things she shouldn’t know unless she’s been naked with you.
Lincoln:
You want the truth?
Me:
Always.
Lincoln:
I was naked with her.
Lincoln:
But I didn’t fuck her.
Lincoln:
I also didn’t choose to be naked with her. She accosted me in the shower. So I guess that’s how she knew whatever she told you.
Lincoln:
But it fucking sucks that you don’t trust me… trust us… enough to already know that I wouldn’t touch her. I told you I wouldn’t. And you still believed her.
A lump fills my throat.
He’s right.
I fucked this up. I didn’t trust him. I did believe her.
God, I’m such a fucking idiot.
Anger simmers under the surface at what she did, and I add her to my list of people that are going to burn when I find a way. How fucking dare she do that to him?
Me:
I’m sorry.
Lincoln:
You have nothing to be sorry for. When you called, I was with her. I was in a shower and I didn’t explain. Harrison forced me to share the suite with her that night and she was right there. I didn’t know what to do. What to say. I didn’t come to you after. But Harrison… It doesn’t matter what the excuses are. None of this is your fault.
Me:
I’m still sorry.
Me: