“Let me guess, now you care?”
Poppy slides her arm from mine. “You guys should probably take this somewhere else. There’s a lot of people around.”
“I don’t have anything to say.” I shake my head, confirming the point as I look for Poppy to bail me out of this.
“We’re in party mode. Maybe you guys can have this fight tomorrow?” she suggests.
Lincoln’s jaw flexes. “I’ll drive her. We’ll meet you there.”
Poppy winces, her association and ties to my fictionalized hopes for us keeping her from saying no. “It’s her birthday. Don’t make me regret agreeing to this.”
Lincoln doesn’t say anything, using too much force as he pushes the door open, leaving me to follow him.
He’s silent as he stalks toward his truck, something I realize tonight is grossly understated to his family’s means after seeing his house last night. He waits at his passenger door, holding it open in what feels like the gate to a trap. Against my better judgment, I climb inside and fasten my seatbelt, fighting the impulse to pull in deep breaths of his scent and relax when I know I need to have all of my defenses up and prepared.
He starts the truck and leaves the parking lot without exchanging a word or even a glance.
“Are we really going to do this again?” I ask.
“No. I’m fucking exhausted by whatever in the hell this shit is. I don’t want to keep dancing around things and pretending everything’s fine between us.”
“Then let’s stop. You were right. This entire situation is just going to blow up in our faces, and it’s not a matter of if but when. You’re going to leave. You’re going to be drafted next year, and I’m going to be a sophomore still trying to figure out stupid statistics. This preserves your time here, your relationship with Paxton, and my sanity. So, let’s just call this what it is, an infatuation because we both know we shouldn’t cross the line. We both know it—we’ve known it all along.”
“What happened to borrowed time and all that bullshit?”
“Reality.” My answer is slapped with finality as my voice comes out balanced and clear, far from anger or bitterness, striving for indifference because it’s the only way to turn off my feelings toward him.
“So that’s where you want to draw the line? We’re strangers now?”
“I’m pretty sure we’ve always been strangers. I don’t know anything about you. I don’t have any idea what your favorite color is or your favorite movie or your greatest pet peeve. I don’t know anything about your mom and nearly as little about your dad. I didn’t even know about Gloria until you introduced me to her. You keep everyone out, and I tried to get in, and every time I learned something about you, it just has me realizing how little I really do know.”
“Who cares about that shit? That is my past. It doesn’t define me—it’s not who I am.”
“It shapes you, though. It’s a part of you, and if you can’t let anyone see those parts and let them in, they’re never going to be in your life as anything other than an infatuation because they’re never going to know you.”
He pulls to a stop at an address where cars spill onto the streets, a house lit up, surrounded by giant evergreens, his attention still directed out the windshield. “So, you’re just going to fuck Derek?”
I stare at him, hearing the anger vibrate off each syllable as they play through my thoughts again and again. It’s a low blow, and he knows it, but maybe my inviting him to come was as well.
“We just make it worse each time,” I tell him. “Our words are weapons, and our actions are grenades, and we keep aiming them at each other. I don’t want to hurt you, and I can’t take being hurt by you, so one of us just has to pull the pin and let it blow up before it takes us both down.”
He turns, his eyes black as the dim light from the yard shines on his dark irises and anger. “And this is you pulling the pin?”
I nod, my chest heavy as I meet his stare. A myriad of emotions reflects back at me, causing a tangle of words that I don’t have the energy to unravel to stick in my throat.
I push open the door before I lose my nerve, letting the chill of the night consume me as I walk toward the house, unscrewing the lid on the water bottle Poppy had shoved into my hands before leaving the restaurant. I take a long drink —the alcohol’s burn a welcome discomfort as I let it clear my thoughts like a disinfectant.
18
Lincoln
“Tell me there’s more than just flat beer,” I say, brushing past Pax and Arlo to get to the table where cups are stacked around puddles of beer.
“I saw Poppy tuck that bottle of booze in her purse,” Pax offers, taking another drink from his red Solo cup.
“Bad night?” Arlo asks.
“Did you check their freezer?” I ask, dismissing his question.
Paxton nods. “Frozen dinners and ice.”
I roll my shoulders, my skin too tight, and my thoughts too heavy. If I were at the gym, I’d crank up the fucking treadmill and run until my muscles were so fatigued I couldn’t think about her anymore.
Instead, I’m stuck here because I’m a masochist and can’t force myself to leave when Raegan comes into view. She notices me as well, her gaze stopping over every face except mine.
She smiles.
She laughs.
She engages in conversation and leans closer to each stranger.
She’s trying to forget me.
Erase me.
Meanwhile, I’m left feeling lost in her and what we shared.
What we could have had.
I grab the glass Paxton just filled with beer and swallow its contents before refilling it and downing a second.
Pax looks at me, eyebrows raised with question. “Did I miss something?”
“I’m going to go find a distraction,” I tell him.
Arlo trails me like a shadow, grabbing my arm when I don’t slow down. “This is a one-eighty,” he says.
I shrug him off. “She invited Derek.” The words don’t seem to mean anything as he stares at me blankly. “She doesn’t even want to be friends. I’m done with this shit.”
Arlo moves, checking me like a blocker. “That’s probably for the better because this would get complicated and messy and all kinds of fucked up, but…” He levels me with a glance that lacks the usual note of humor he always possesses. “She doesn’t seem like the forgiving type. If you fuck around with somebody, you’re not going to stand a chance.”
I nod. “She already made that choice.” I drop my shoulder, but before I get the satisfaction of clipping him, Arlo moves, leaving me to my own devices.
“Have you seen Rae?”
“I’m not a babysitter,” I remind Paxton, keeping my back to him as the girl in front of me presses her ass more firmly against my groin. It’s been less than two hours since Raegan officially quit me, and like any bad habit, I’m already looking for a new host.
“Dude. I need to find Rae.” He grips my shoulder. “Like now.”
“I’m kind of busy here.” The last chick who came to talk it up with me tried suffocating me with a kiss that tasted of throw up and was so forceful, it made my bottom lip bleed. This new girl is a huge step up, and she’s clearly interested in one thing and one thing only: my dick.