He takes the pen from me and signs his name in the three places I indicated before spinning the contract back to me. Our fingers brush when he hands me the pen and I suck in a breath, my head spinning from the urge to touch him again as I sign my name three times.
“Congrats. You’ve got an apartment,” I say when I’m done, laying the pen on the table and handing him the keys. He flashes me a smile and I hand him a sticky note. “I’ll get a copy of the contract over to the landlord and that’s his number if you ever need anything. He doesn’t come around much but he’s a good guy.”
He nods. “Thanks.”
“Of course. Well, I guess I better get going,” I murmur, searching for any excuse to stay and somehow wanting to flee at the same time.
“Hold up.”
He reaches out, grabbing my hand, and I suck in a breath as the hair on my arms sticks straight up and warmth pulses over my skin. “Stay and hang out with me?”
“Oh, I…uh, I don’t know about that.”
“Please?” he asks, his smile turning shy and my heart skips a beat. Oh, hell…
“Why do I get the feeling that you don’t use that word a lot?”
He laughs. “Because I don’t but I’m saying it now.”
“Can I be honest with you?” I ask and he nods.
“Of course.”
I bite my lip and drop my gaze to the table. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the night you came into the diner but this,” I motion between the two of us, “is a really bad idea.”
“Why?”
“So many reasons,” I whisper, a humorless laugh slipping past my lips. Nothing about this is funny.
“What if I just want to be your friend?”
I arch a brow. “Friends?”
He nods.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been out on a date but I’m not an idiot, Lincoln. I can see exactly what you want.”
“How long is a while?”
“Eight years.”
He lets out a low whistle, shaking his head like he can’t even comprehend what I just said. “Wow.”
“Yeah, and I get the distinct feeling that you’re a love ‘em and leave ‘em type, which I have no interest in and on top of that, this might be the worst timing ever seeing as my mom just died.”
He nods and I can see the wheels turning in his head. “Look, you’re not wrong about me but that’s not what this is about. I remember how it felt right after my dad died and even with my mom and two sisters, it was still confusing and lonely so I just want to be here for you.”
“As friends?”
He nods. “I know what you’re going through and I also know how to help you when things start get to be too much.”
I chew on my lip, considering his words. “And how would you help me?”
“It helps to stay busy and sometimes, just having someone to sit with you so you don’t have to be alone is everything. I can be that guy for you.”
The thought of having him around to lean on and turn to when the emotions are just too strong to handle is very appealing, especially with Theo back in Charleston.
“Okay, I’d like that.”
He smiles, giving my hand a squeeze before releasing it and leaning back in his chair, sipping his coffee.
“I’ve got to ask you a question,” he prompts and I nod. “Has it really been eight years since you went on a date?”
I laugh. “Not exactly but the last time I was in a relationship was eight years ago.”
“Oh, I see. You give me hell for being the love ‘em and leave ‘em type when you’re the exact same way.”
“Uh, no,” I murmur, a blush staining my cheeks. “It’s complicated but I haven’t been with anyone in eight years.”
“You mean… no sex?”
Glancing down at the table, I shake my head. “No.”
“Why?” he whispers, his voice bewildered and I laugh through my embarrassment. Pursing my lips, I pick at my coffee cup.
“I was a bit of a wild child in high school – anything that would make my mother lose her mind, I did it. A few weeks before graduation, I missed my period and my whole world came crashing down on me. I thought my life was over and I regretted all the stupid things I had done during my little rebellion.”
“So you have a kid?” he asks and I shake my head.
“No, thankfully it turned out to be a false alarm but it scared me enough that I broke up with my good for nothing boyfriend and became dedicated to getting my life back on track.”
“Okay… but that was eight years ago…”
I hear his unspoken question and nod. “For the first year or so, I made a point to stay single and focus on myself but after that, I promised myself I wouldn’t jump into bed or a relationship with just anyone. He had to be special and I guess no one has ever come along.”
“So you’ve just been living like a nun?”
I laugh, meeting his warm honey eyes. “Essentially.”
“Damn. The more I learn about you, the more interesting you get,” he comments and I meet his gaze, a blush rising to my cheeks as I smile.
“It’s all part of my master plan to trap you with a white picket fence and two point five kids. Now, it’s time to spill some of your emotional baggage,” I joke and he laughs, studying me as he takes a sip of his coffee.
“What do you want to know?”
I glance to the side of our table as a couple brushes by and wait for them to get far enough away before I turn back to him. “Will you tell me what happened to your dad?”
“Shit, you’re going right for the bull’s-eye, aren’t you?”
“You don’t have to…” I start, but he holds his hand up to stop me.
“No, it’s okay. And it’s only fair.” His smile falls away and he sets his coffee down in front of him, taking a deep breath. “My parents had this charter plane business up in Alaska, still do actually… anyway, they would take tourists on sightseeing tours and help deliver supplies to some of the smaller villages, stuff like that.”
I nod for him to continue.
“My mom asked me to cover her one day ‘cause my sisters had been throwing up all night long and I was pissed but I went anyway. My dad was just running supplies so it should have been an easy day. Right around the time I expected him back, his voice came over the radio, telling me that the plane had gone done and that he was losing blood fast. I called nine-one-one and talked to him until the radio went silent.”
“Oh my god, Lincoln,” I whisper, tears welling up in my eyes for our shared pain. “How old were you?”
“Fifteen.”
A tear slips down my cheek and I quickly wipe it away. “I’m so sorry.”
“Shit, babe,” he whispers, his voice full of pain. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
Wiping the tears away, I shake my head. “It’s okay. Everything is still so raw for me that I cry at the drop of a hat these days.”
He nods, reaching across the table and grabbing my hand. “What happened to your mom?”
“We still don’t know,” I answer, my voice hoarse. “She was involved in a hit and run accident and Detective Rodriguez thinks the driver was drunk but there aren’t any witnesses or anything.”