Asking For It - Allyson Lindt Page 0,41

any moment.”

“That’s part of the fun. The thrill of the danger.” Kingston fiddled with my buttons, undoing one.

My stomach recoiled at his touch. The sounds on the other side of the door turned to raucous laughter in my head. I pushed him away and stepped back. “I said no.”

Chapter Nineteen

My words came out more forcefully than I intended, but I was glad for the distance. Cool air rushed in, but it didn’t soothe my nausea. I rebuttoned my shirt, hiding more skin than I had before.

“Okay. We’ll wait.” He studied me with concern.

I shook my head and stepped back farther, but the actions didn’t stop the past from forcing its way to the front of my mind. The memory of— The laughter. The pointing. The humiliation. I choked on a sob. Why did this still have this impact on me?

“Lyn.” Kingston kept his distance. “Talk to me?”

I couldn’t tell him this. No one in my current life knew this story. Not Anne or Sadie...

He extended his hand. “Whatever’s going through your head right now, it doesn’t make me care about you any less. Whatever your reasons for telling me to stop. I’m sorry I didn’t get it sooner. Tell me what you’re thinking?”

If I kept locking this away, I gave it power over me. I did want to trust Kingston, and this was a big thing. The worst he could do was laugh and agree with the people who... I frowned. “Can we go upstairs?” To get away from the people, and give me time to collect my thoughts.

“Of course.”

I headed up first, uncomfortably conscious of whether or not I cared if he could see up my skirt. This was a man I was falling for, though. He had never been anything but adoring. Kind. Attentive. This wasn’t the same as what happened back then.

I’d repeated this isn’t the same enough times that when we reached my apartment, I could breathe again. I locked the door behind us. “You can sit.” But I had too much nervous energy, so I was going to pace.

Kingston lingered nearby.

“So...” I laughed nervously as I exhaled. “This is probably stupid.”

“Don’t do that. It bothers you. It’s not stupid.”

Why did he have to be so sweet?

I clenched my first and forced my tongue to loosen. “I told you I used to dance.” I could do this. It wasn’t a big deal. “I was still the chubby girl in the group, but I was good.” The words weren’t going to stop until I finished. “I always danced without anything on under my tights, to avoid panty lines. A lot of the girls did. My boyfriend at the time—”

Bile rose in my throat and I swallowed it back. He wasn’t just my boyfriend, he was also my first everything. Kiss. Making out until the car windows steamed up. Sex...

Kingston watched me, concern on his face.

Thankfully he didn’t interrupt. I might not be able to finish if I lost more momentum. “He found out, and he thought it was hot. That’s what he told me. I believed him. I believed everything he told me. We were doing a performance at school. In front of the entire auditorium. He rushed the stage, yanked down my bottoms, and exposed me to every single one of my classmates.” I nearly gagged on the memory. “For the next two years, until my parents finally caved and moved me to a different school, every time I walked down the hall, someone would shout Hey, Fattie Bush.” Not the most creative taunt, but so painful to teenage me.

I forced myself to look at Kingston. The story was out there, it didn’t control me, and I wouldn’t cower away from the consequences.

His fists were clenched and his mouth drawn in a straight line. “I’m sorry. No one deserves that, but especially not you. I swear, if I ever meet that asshole, I’ll pound his dick into the dirt with a baseball bat.”

The force and venom in his voice startled me, and I had to admit, seared away my blanket of doubt. “You’d go to jail for that.”

“Worth it. There are a lot of things I’d do for you.”

I ducked my head.

He placed a finger under my chin, forcing my gaze to his. “So, no public stuff. Nothing that risks us getting caught. I won’t ask again,” Kingston said. “But I will ask if I can stay tonight. You can keep the skirt on—and everything else—all night if it makes you feel better. I’m not assuming