Chapter 40 Elizabeth
ELIZABETH
@theanswerisno:
I think I dreamed about you
@pancakesareelite:
You don’t even know what I look like
@theanswerisno:
It was more the feeling I woke up with
@pancakesareelite:
Oh
@theanswerisno:
NOT THAT
@theanswerisno:
I meant like… a nice feeling
@pancakesareelite:
Well, now I’m a little disappointed
The last time I’d seen those people was at the Overpower LAN. They’d witnessed what was, undoubtedly, one of the most awful moments of my life.
I could never face them again. Especially Claire. Her glare was fixed in my memory.
Staying in here and working seemed like my best bet.
I plonked onto the edge of my desk and leafed through the drawings we’d be using tomorrow.
Working on-site had been nothing short of exhilarating.
At one stage, I was in a ditch, digging a hole alongside Lincoln.
The only reason I was in the ditch was to escape the way my body reacted to watching him dig.
His biceps flexed and rippled as he shoveled.
As far as I knew, engineers never did any of this, but he was so hands-on, actively engaging every muscle at every opportunity and driving me up the wall with a desire I worried may be unhealthy.
It had been a while since I was intimate with anyone, and watching Lincoln dig a ditch had reminded my body of that.
Actually, watching Lincoln do anything didn’t help. A second ago, he stood in the living room wearing gray sweatpants and a loose T-shirt. It made him even more irresistible. I thought the shirt and tie did it for me, but off-the-clock Lincoln was intoxicating.
His friends’ laughter echoed through the cabin. I thought maybe I heard him laugh too.
I glanced upward, catching my reflection in the mirror. I was a complete mess. But Lincoln’s gaze had paused on my mouth. Maybe it didn’t mean anything. A lot of men stared at my mouth. Some even had the audacity to speak their thoughts out loud.
Not Lincoln. Lincoln was different. He was kind, gentle, and caring. Even when I didn’t deserve it.
Which made this entire situation worse. Couldn’t he be mean to me instead? I was used to that. But this?
I grabbed my phone, and despite knowing I shouldn’t, I texted my mom: I could really use some advice. The internet up here is a little iffy but I can go outside if you’re planning on calling later.
Even though we hadn’t seen each other in years, she wouldn’t let me down when I needed her. Especially not tonight.
The message wouldn’t send. I stomped out of my bedroom and into the living room, where all Lincoln’s friends had gathered. Their eyes zoomed in on me.
Especially Claire. The fire in her gaze was an indication of how badly I’d hurt Lincoln. Her mouth flattened into a straight line.
Lincoln glanced her way before turning to me, his face fixed in a hard expression. “William, Rose, Claire, Dean, this is Elizabeth.”
“Nice to meet you,” Rose chirped up with a warm and welcoming smile I didn’t expect.
“Nice to meet you too.” I lifted my hand to wave, relieved she wasn’t sending me daggers like Claire. While I was generally unbothered by things like that, my composition was weaker today.
William didn’t seem too concerned by my presence, nodding in greeting, and Dean, the other person, simply smiled and raised his hand.
“Are your texts sending?” I asked Lincoln.
He frowned, taking out his phone.
“Mine are,” William said. “I’ve sent Shaun a few photos.”
“Has he replied?” I asked.
William nodded, smiling widely. He had a deep dimple in his one cheek that I’d never noticed before because his streaming camera faced his other side.
“Thanks,” I said, and took out my phone again before walking to my bedroom. Still unread. I hit the call button and held it to my ear.
Voicemail.
I did it again.
Voicemail.
Turning around, I found Lincoln in the doorframe, his brows drawn close. “Everything all right?”
I nodded, swallowing the lump growing in my throat. Lincoln couldn’t see me cry. I wouldn’t allow it. I’d already ambushed him once; crying would force him into comforting me. And he would comfort me. At his own expense.
“Okay,” he said, unconvinced.
“Are they staying over?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Leaving to a nearby cabin.” He pulled on the drawstring of his gray sweatpants. Casual Lincoln was an entirely different experience from formal Lincoln.
My mind locked away every detail for safekeeping because a part of me worried that every time we spoke could be the last.
“You don’t have to hide in here,” he said.
The striking sound of something sizzling drew my attention, and Lincoln glanced over his shoulder. His soft smile returned. He stepped out of the way, revealing William in the kitchen frying onions in what smelled like a generous amount of garlic.
“Do you have pepper? We didn’t bring any since I assumed the two of you weren’t living like savages,” William said without turning around.
Lincoln shook his head, and a chuckle slipped out. He left my doorway and retrieved the pepper from the cupboard underneath the microwave. William hoorayed, and again, Lincoln laughed. He hadn’t laughed since I’d arrived here. I’d thought he’d forgotten how.
There was excited chatter coming from the living room, and my heart twisted in the strangest of ways. I looked back down at my phone where my text was left unsent. My eyes stung, and I reached out and closed the door before any of them could see I was about to cry. Again.
I didn’t need my sadness to drown their party, and besides, these were his friends and they all knew I’d hurt him. I couldn’t go out there, and thankfully I hadn’t drunk much so I wouldn’t even need to use the bathroom. If I were quiet enough, they would forget I was even here.
I’d just have to ignore my grumbling stomach. Whatever William was cooking smelled delicious.
One of the girls shrieked, and it was followed by William’s loud laughter. I could bet Lincoln was chuckling in his soft and bashful way.
A new and unexpected longing curled inside me. I’d never had that. And I wanted it. Desperately.
In a moment of defeat, I finally opened the article and faced my punishment for turning down a conversation with Douglas Gordon-Bettencourt.