Chapter 7 #2
Even though he kept his head down, Emmett still scanned the crowd every once in a while, hoping to see a familiar face.
Only Lincoln didn’t show up. Not for the eight or ten o’clock set, and as the clock inched closer to midnight and their final act, he gave up any hope that Lincoln might come see him.
No, don’t be ridiculous. If he comes, it’s for the music, not me.
Besides, discussing yesterday in a crowded bar while Emmett was working? Not a smart move, and Lincoln seemed like a pretty grounded guy. A very pretty, grounded guy.
Stop that.
Their third act went on at midnight to a pretty packed house.
Saturday nights in the summer meant a bouncer upstairs at the phone booth so they didn’t go over capacity.
Standing-room only, and the dance floor was jammed.
Between the crowd and his appearance, Emmett’s anxiety rose until his hands were shaking so hard he nearly sliced his knuckle instead of the lime.
He closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath. Finished his task without bloodshed. He took the fresh bin of limes over to Van’s station, replaced the nearly empty one, and turned to go back to the prep table. Something buzzed over his skin that stopped him short. A sense of being watched.
Blue eyes met his across the bar, and Emmett’s heart galloped away from his chest. Lincoln leaned against the edge of the bar, and he quickly slipped his sunglasses back up to cover his eyes. But he’d definitely made a point. He’d come to see Emmett.
Emmett wasn’t quite sure what to do with that.
“Go, take ten minutes,” Van said in his ear. “We’re good for a bit.”
He mouthed a thank-you at Van, grateful for the immediate understanding, then went around the back of the bar. Weaving his way through so many bodies left him with sweaty palms and a racing pulse by the time he met Lincoln at the bottom of the stairs. They went up by silent agreement.
Emmett expected them to talk in the upstairs lounge. Instead, Lincoln walked outside to the parking lot. All the way down to the other end of the strip mall, away from the smokers and the general crowd outside of the bar.
In the dim light, Lincoln seemed to study him. Or rather, he studied his face. Observing the damage done by the pepper spray.
“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” Emmett said. He needed to reassure Lincoln of that, and he wasn’t sure why. “It hasn’t really hurt much since late last night. Mostly it’s just red.”
“I was so mad at Roxy when she told me what she did to you.” Lincoln’s right hand rose and hovered by Emmett’s face.
Emmett held still, uncertain what was happening—or what he wanted to happen.
Lincoln was close enough for Emmett to smell his cologne, mixed with sweat and liquor.
Whiskey, maybe. He’d been drinking but he didn’t seem drunk.
“I’m okay. Are you okay?”
Lincoln gently tapped the side of his own head. “Technically no, but the migraine has passed.” He grimaced. “Thank you for taking care of me. I hate that you had to.”
“You needed me.” Help. You needed help, not me.
Only Lincoln didn’t contradict him. He removed his sunglasses, and in the dim light, the intensity in his eyes made something deep inside of Emmett stir.
That part of himself he kept buried, far away from the world that would judge and hate him for it.
Lincoln’s blue eyes held so many things, and at the very top was need.
Need for a genuine connection. Need for someone who would put him first. Need to not be alone anymore.
Emmett fought as those same feelings began clawing at his heart and mind. Demanding he acknowledge them. Demanding he release them.
Lincoln’s cool fingers brushed his cheek. “Your eyes are a different color.”
“This is real. I hid them away.”
“They’re beautiful. Why do you hide?”
So much meaning in a few small words, and Emmett wanted to run away screaming.
He didn’t want to tell Lincoln why he hid who he was—not only his sexuality, but also his nationality and former religion.
He didn’t want to face those fears tonight or any other night.
He wanted to keep existing in this safe little bubble he’d constructed for himself, where he worked, went home, and no one tried to hurt him.
A bubble that Lincoln had cracked into two nights ago when Van introduced them across the bar.
Those gentle fingers slid lower to cup Emmett’s cheek.
They were similar in height, but Emmett had never felt so small or vulnerable in another person’s presence.
Or more seen. As if Lincoln had looked past all of his emotional barriers and could see the real Emilio Sharif buried so far down that even his birth name sounded foreign to Emmett’s ears.
“You don’t have to hide from me, Em,” Lincoln said. His voice was so soft, almost musical, and it caressed Emmett’s skin like a lover’s touch.
Emmett swallowed hard against a knot of emotion. “All I know how to do is hide.”
Pressure on his hip told Emmett where Lincoln’s other hand had landed, and instead of startling, he adored the touch.
They were so close, only a few inches of air between their bodies.
One step would close the distance. Press them against each other in the best possible way.
Lincoln’s scent and body heat played havoc with his senses, and Emmett’s dick took notice.
For the first time since the fire, he was getting hard over a boy. A boy he was, if he allowed himself to admit it, very attracted to.
But he wouldn’t allow himself to admit it.
“I can’t.” Emmett tore out of Lincoln’s loose hold and took two steps back. “I’m sorry.”
Lincoln’s expression remained soft, nonjudgmental. “Can’t or won’t?”
“Both.” Emmett didn’t know how to explain himself without bringing up the past, so he wasn’t sure what to say when Lincoln’s face hardened.
He slipped his sunglasses back on. “Got it. No hard feelings, though, right?”
“Hard feelings?”
“Over yesterday. Forgiven and forgotten?”
“Of course.” Emmett wasn’t entirely sure what was happening. The conversation had switched from serious to almost over. “Um, are we still on for lunch tomorrow?”
“Maybe we should reschedule. I think we both said what we needed to say just now.”
“I guess.”
Lincoln paused as if waiting for Emmett to say something else. He had no idea what, though. Their entire conversation had him turned inside out.
“See you later, Emmett.” Lincoln turned and walked away.
Emmett stared at his departing figure until long after he’d disappeared from view, so utterly confused he wasn’t certain what to do next. “I’m such a coward,” he said to the night sky.
The night sky did not disagree.