“Always. I’ll talk to you later. Bye, Lincoln.”
“Bye.” I hang up and stare at the phone for a few seconds, my mind starting to wander down memory lane. Her face flashes through my mind, her smile, her throaty laugh. Hell, I miss her. It would have been fucking amazing if she was here today. I considered calling her, seeing if she could fly in quickly and fly back out. I would have paid for everything, but I knew that would be asking too much, so I didn’t, especially since I haven’t spoken to her in months.
Different lives.
Separate lives. That’s what we’re living.
I pocket my phone and walk back to my moms, who welcome me with open arms and we head out to a celebratory dinner.
THREE AND A HALF YEARS AFTER INDIE’S SENIOR YEAR
Bzzz. Bzz. Bzz.
My eyes flit open and I look at the clock on my nightstand.
Two in the morning.
What the hell?
I glance at my phone that’s buzzing and see Indie’s face cross the screen. Rubbing my eye with my palm, I sit up and answer, my voice sounding groggy.
“Hello?”
“Linc?” Indie’s voice sounds meek . . . scared.
“Indie? Is everything okay?”
“Linc . . . I need you.”
“What’s up? What’s going on?”
“Can you come back home?”
“Is there anything I can do for you?” I ask Indie, as I place the last of the dishes in the sink of her dad’s house.
She shakes her head as she sits on the counter, dressed in all black, staring at the ground. “No.”
I walk up to her, grateful my manager gave me the day off so I could fly to Michigan to be with Indie. When she told me that her dad had died suddenly of a heart attack—alone—I knew I had to be here. Her sobs . . .
I haven’t seen her in a few years, so when I walked into her dad’s house this morning, seeing her sunken eyes, full of despair, my heart broke.
I walk up to her and place one hand on her thigh, push her hair back from her face with the other, and then cup her cheek. “Come on. It’s been a long day, let’s get you into bed.”
She doesn’t say anything, so I pull her off the counter and walk her back to the guest room where she let me change when I arrived straight from the airport. I fly out early tomorrow morning to make my game. I wish I could stay longer but unfortunately, it’s the life of a professional athlete.
When we reach the room, I set her on the bed and say, “What are you going to sleep in? An old tee?”
She shakes her head and then connects her eyes with me. “Please, would you just hold me, Lincoln? Hold me like you used to back in college?”
Unable to deny her anything, I lie down on the bed and pull her into my chest. She rests her head and grips the fabric of my shirt. She sniffs, and my shirt grows wet from her tears. I grip her tighter, letting her know I’m here for her.
“I’m so sorry,” I say quietly. “I know you had a rough relationship with him, but—”
Indie tilts her head up and kisses my jaw.
I still.
She kisses me again and then sits up and moves her mouth to mine, pressing a kiss against my lips.
“Indie, I’m not sure—”
“I need to get lost. I need to forget. Please help me do that.”
Her hand travels down my stomach to the waistband of my dress pants. She unbuckles my belt and pants, as I try to determine what the right decision in this situation is.
“Please,” she says again as her hand slips inside my pants and cups me.
Fuck.
Fucking hell.
Even if I tried, I don’t think I could deny this girl, not when she’s happy, and especially when she’s sad. If she wants me, I want her. It’s as simple as that.
This might be stupid, and she might be using me, but I do still crave her. After all this time, no sexual experience has come close to the ecstasy of sex with Indie. The way she knows my body. The way I know hers. Her heart. Her soul. Even seeing her lost in grief, the minute I walked through the door, that burning need for her erupted.
“Please,” she repeats, pressing another light kiss across my lips.
I groan and move her to her back. I unbutton my shirt and toss it to the floor. Her eyes widen, taking me in, and then she smiles very lightly.
“Jesus, Lincoln.” Her eyes roam my body, running over each contour, taking in every difference from the last time she saw me. The intensity of my workouts has changed drastically since I last saw her and from her heated—dizzying—perusal, she’s impressed by the difference.
I lift her cotton dress up and over her head and peel off her bra, while she kicks off her underwear. I stare down at her naked body, a million flashbacks racing through my head followed by an onslaught of emotions.
Happiness.
Weariness.
Guilt . . .
“Are you sure?” I ask her, feeling like a tool who’s taking advantage of her.
“I need this, please, Lincoln.”
Her hands travel up my chest to the back of my neck where she brings my mouth down to hers. She places a light kiss across my lips and then another. They’re little pecks that make me grow harder each time. Just having a taste of her mouth again twists my stomach in knots and before I can stop myself, those knots turn into heated yearning, and my mouth crashes down on hers.
She groans against me, her back arches, and she pushes me to my back, climbing on top of me, taking charge. And I let her.
Because even though I want this—want her . . . probably always will—she needs this more than me.
Indie: Thank you for last night. I’m really thankful you came.
Lincoln: You don’t need to thank me, Indie. I’m glad I was there for you.
Indie: In more ways than one. Thank you.
Lincoln: If you need anything, don’t be hesitant to call.
Indie: I won’t. Have a safe trip.
FOUR YEARS AFTER INDIE’S SENIOR YEAR
“Dude, are there two of you?” I ask Maddox, patting his face.
“Just one, man.” He laughs while unlocking the door to my apartment. My apartment that doesn’t have any furniture in it but a bed. “Nice place, man.”
“Thanks,” I say, stumbling behind him. I sit on the floor and then lie across it where I make snow angels against the freshly waxed floors. “Join me. Just like old times.”
“We never did that,” Maddox says and then picks up my feet and drags me across the floor to my bedroom.
“Wee,” I call out, letting my arms float above my head. “Again, Daddy. Again.”
“Dude, there are so many things wrong with what’s happening right now, you calling me Daddy being one of them. I know you’re excited to be a Rebel again in one hell of an epic trade, but this is your third night celebrating. We need to calm it down.”
“Aren’t you excited?” I ask as he saddles me up next to my bed.
“I am, but we also have games to play, so get it together.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I sit up and take a deep breath. “I can handle it from here.”
“Are you sure?”
I nod. “I’m not blackout drunk, I know what that feels like. I’m just silly drunk, and if you’re not going to be silly with me, then what’s the point? You’re dismissed.”