Chapter 18
CHAPTER 18
Lincoln
A nother sleepless night bled into another grueling morning, the caffeine from two cups of coffee barely fueling me. I knew that by noon, I’d be fighting the urge to crash. The sweltering mid-July heat wasn’t making things any easier. I chose a tan suit to survive the day, knotting my dark blue tie before pulling on my jacket. The sun was already blazing when I stepped outside, and I shoved my sunglasses onto my face, the glare from the cars nearly blinding.
I hadn’t bothered to call an Uber, so I hailed a cab as one approached, its off-duty sign flicking off just in time. Sliding into the back seat, I sighed in relief at the reprieve from the heat, though it was barely nine-thirty. The temperature was predicted to soar to ninety-five by noon, and I hoped to be back home long before then.
The apartment I was showing was in Midtown, a prewar building that had been completely renovated. I just wanted to get in and out, maybe gather enough information to close a deal quickly. I had no interest in the usual competition between agents today. I just wanted to survive the day and get home.
The cab dropped me off in front of the building, and I stepped into the cool, elegant lobby. Dark granite, gold accents, crystal chandeliers, and rich wood greeted me. The designer had kept the prewar charm intact, and I appreciated the effort. I handed my card to the concierge, who checked her list and smiled at me. If I were single, I might have charmed her, but my thoughts were consumed with Erika—if we were still anything at all.
On the thirty-fourth floor, I entered the modern apartment with its industrial vibe, a stark contrast to the lobby. Polished concrete floors, high ceilings with exposed ducts, and floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a stunning view of the city. I left another card on the sleek granite counter and began my tour of the bedrooms and bathrooms, nodding at other agents as I snapped a few pictures.
Then, as I stepped into the master bedroom, I froze. Erika stood several feet away, her back to me as she inspected the walk-in closet. There was no mistaking her. I’d know the curve of her hips, the way her black skirt hugged her figure, and the elegance of her high heels anywhere. My heart pounded as my body reacted instantly, my breath catching in my throat.
It was the first time I’d seen her since she’d fled the marina, a week that felt like an eternity. The bedroom was empty aside from the two of us, and she hadn’t noticed me yet. Her heels clacked softly on the concrete floor as she ventured deeper into the closet. Determined to make her talk to me, I quietly followed, shutting the heavy wooden doors behind me.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice betraying the desperation I felt.
Erika spun around, her eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms. “Fuck you, Lincoln.”
Hearing her say my name made my heart sink. If she was truly over what happened, she would’ve called me Elliott. The tension in my face mirrored the lump in my throat, making it hard to swallow.
“Please,” I implored, the word slipping out before I could stop it.
“You did something I can’t forgive. It’s like my parents all over again,” she said, her voice edged with bitterness.
“I made a mistake. I told you, I’m still learning,” I said, taking a hesitant step closer.
Erika’s blue eyes sharpened, her anger palpable. “Am I supposed to forgive you every time you fuck up? Act like it never happened? How weak would that make me?”
“Not weak at all,” I replied, my voice soft. “Forgiving. I can’t do this without you.”
“Do what?” she demanded, her tone icy.
“Live. Nothing is good without you,” I admitted, my chest tightening with the fear that she wouldn’t forgive me.
She frowned, the hardness in her expression faltering just for a moment. “And that’s my problem?”
“It is because I love you,” I said, the words heavy with truth. I couldn’t imagine life without her.
“Our relationship isn’t right. You expect me to bend for your mistakes. I can’t do that. My mother did it, and look where it got her,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.
I closed the distance between us, my hands itching to touch her, to comfort her, but she was coiled tight, like a rattlesnake ready to strike. The tension in her jaw warned me to keep my distance.
“We can make it right,” I pleaded. “Just tell me what to do.”
Before she could answer, the double doors swung open, and a male agent from Callahan Associates stepped inside, his eyes widening in surprise.
“Am I interrupting?” he asked, glancing between us.
I wanted to tell him to get lost, but it wasn’t my call. Erika stepped around me, her expression unreadable as she headed for the door.
“We were just finishing,” she remarked dismissively, her tone cold.
I watched her walk past the agent, my eyes drawn to the sway of her hips. The agent followed her with his gaze, and I felt a surge of possessive anger.
“She is something,” he said with a casual grin, as if we were friends.
“And?” I growled, my hands curling into fists at my sides.
“And nothing. She’s totally hot,” he replied, oblivious to the fury simmering beneath my surface.
“She’s beautiful,” I snapped, shoving past him in a desperate attempt to catch up to Erika. But by the time I’d run through the apartment, she was gone. Defeated, I slumped against the wall, sadness washing over me as I loosened my tie and ripped off my jacket.
I stumbled out of the elevator, preparing to hail a cab when I heard a voice that made my heart stop.
“You should put that back on if you plan on taking me to brunch.”
There she was, sitting in one of the floral wingback chairs in the corner of the lobby. Relief flooded through me as I approached her, unable to speak, afraid to jinx the moment.
Her voice made my heart skip. There she was, sitting in one of the floral wingback chairs in the corner of the lobby, her presence more intoxicating than anything I’d imagined. I moved toward her, my breath catching in my throat, every step fueled by the desperate hope that this wasn’t a dream.
“You forgive me?” I croaked as I reached her, the words barely making it past the lump in my throat.
Erika’s gaze held mine, steady and unyielding. “It won’t be that easy. You’re going to have to work for this, Elliott.”
A sigh of relief escaped me when she used my last name, the tension in my chest loosening just enough for me to whisper, “I love you.”
“Be that as it may,” she said, a slight smile playing on her lips, “you owe me brunch at least.”
“Anywhere you want to go,” I agreed without hesitation, my voice thick with emotion.
She tapped her glossed lips with her index finger, feigning deep thought. “Hmm, this might be the right time to ask for a gift.”
“Anything you want,” I affirmed, my voice soft but resolute. “Take it all, as long as I can have you.”
Her smile grew, but there was a hint of playfulness in her eyes. “I’m kidding. I won’t take advantage. By the way, the roses were gorgeous.”
“I thought you would call,” I admitted, the vulnerability in my voice evident.
“I was angry. I’m still a little angry. We should talk.”
“Where do you want to go for brunch?” I asked, eager to keep the momentum going, to keep her with me.
“Your apartment. My day is clear. I had two cancellations, and a negotiation fell through last night. I need a break.”
I smirked, feeling a glimmer of the old spark between us. “How do you know I don’t have work?”
“You look exhausted. Were you negotiating a deal last night?”
“I haven’t slept in days,” I replied honestly. “I’m also drinking too much.”
“Stop. Take me to your place.”
In the cab, the tension between us felt like a live wire, crackling with unresolved emotions. I couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss her, the need to feel her closeness overwhelming me. Her perfume, the warmth of her skin, the way her presence made everything else fade—it was everything I needed. I pressed a kiss to her jaw, lingering there, waiting for her response. Her eyes closed, and her thick lashes fanned her cheeks, a sight that made my heart ache.
“I love you,” I whispered as I reluctantly pulled back, not wanting to push too hard, too fast.
“Who said you could end the kiss?” she murmured, not opening her eyes, her tone teasing but filled with something deeper.
It gave me hope—hope that we could work this out, that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t the end.
Food was long forgotten by the time we arrived at my apartment. Our clothing became a trail of discarded desire, strewn from the front door to the bedroom. The kisses we exchanged in the cab, soft and teasing, had ignited something uncontrollable between us, and by the time we reached the elevator, I was already lost in her. The moment the doors closed, I pressed her against the wall, my mouth finding hers with a hunger that neither of us could deny. Her breath hitched, and I could feel her body responding as I claimed her, my tongue delving deeper, tasting the sweetness that I had missed for far too long.
We barely made it inside before we were pulling at each other’s clothes, stumbling down the hallway, hands fumbling to remove the last barriers between us. By the time we reached the bedroom, I was done holding back. I threw Erika onto the bed, her body bouncing slightly as I yanked her white lace panties to the side, desperate to feel her warmth around me again.
The moment I entered her, she howled, the sound sending shivers down my spine. Her nails dug into my back, sharp and demanding, and I welcomed the pain, wanting her to mark me as hers.
“White?” I murmured, a smirk on my lips as I tugged her panties further aside.
“Shut up, Elliott,” she panted, her voice ragged.
“You act so innocent,” I teased, though there was nothing innocent about the way she looked at me, her eyes dark with need.
“I am innocent.” Her legs wrapped around me, her heels bouncing against me as I drove deeper. I leaned down, my mouth finding her hardened nipples, sucking and biting them harder than I should, but I couldn’t help it. I needed to mark her, to make sure she knew she was mine.
“You feel so good. I missed you,” I moaned, my voice rough with emotion.
“It was your fault,” she gasped. “You hurt me.”
“I can’t promise it won’t happen again. This is all new to me.” My pace quickened, and I latched onto her throat, my teeth grazing the delicate skin as I pulled her closer.
“Don’t leave a mark,” she ordered breathlessly.
“I want to. I want to mark your whole body as mine. I don’t want another man touching you ever again.”
“My possessive Elliott.” Her breath hitched, her body tightening around me, and I knew she was close.
I thrust harder, faster, until I felt her unravel beneath me, her nails digging into my skin so deeply that I winced. But I didn’t stop. I kept moving, chasing my own release until it hit me, hard and overwhelming, after days of pent-up frustration. I came with a shudder, my release seeming endless, and I only stopped when I was utterly spent, my body trembling from the intensity.
Erika’s lips found the top of my head, her fingers brushing my sweat-drenched hair back as she whispered, “I love you.” Her words sent a wave of relief crashing over me, mixing with the endorphins that coursed through my veins.
“I love you too,” I breathed, my voice hoarse with exhaustion and emotion.
“You’re going to the wedding with me, aren’t you?” she asked, her tone light, but there was a seriousness in her eyes that I couldn’t ignore.
I buried my face in her neck, breathing in her scent. “You have me at a disadvantage.”
“What disadvantage?” she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.
“We just got back together and had sex,” I muttered, a small smile playing on my lips. “I have no choice but to say yes.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll go,” I agreed, “but don’t expect me to be cordial to the groom.”
“You have to,” she insisted gently. “It’s his wedding day. But let me tell you a little secret…”
“A secret?” I managed between heavy breaths, my pulse still racing.
Erika shifted, her eyes searching mine as if deciding how much to reveal. “There’s something about Slade I’m not sure of. He’s good to Morgan, but I think Michael would’ve been a better fit,” she admitted, her voice low and thoughtful. “I didn’t even know about their relationship until May. Can you believe she kept it from me? She was torn between two men.”
I stroked her arm, sensing the weight of her words. “Michael would’ve claimed her heart,” I murmured, picturing how things might’ve unfolded differently.
Her gaze locked onto mine, more vulnerable than I’d seen in a while. “Have I claimed yours?” she asked, the question hanging between us, laced with uncertainty.
“You know you have,” I whispered, my voice firm. “So stop asking. This is forever.”
“Forever is a long time,” she replied, a shadow crossing her face. “Nothing lasts forever. Life happens, people change, they grow apart. You can’t predict the future.”
I sat up slightly, cupping her face in my hands. “I’m not your father, Erika. We won’t be like your parents,” I said, my tone soft but resolute.
She sighed, her shoulders relaxing a fraction. “Cut me some slack, Elliott. I don’t move at lightspeed.”
I chuckled softly, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Neither do I,” I admitted. “But I feel like a slave to your love. Three months ago, I never would’ve believed this could happen, but here we are.”
Her expression softened, but she didn’t let it slide. “We still need to talk.”
I rolled over, pulling her on top of me, feeling her warmth pressed against me. “Talk,” I urged, my hands running soothingly up and down her back.
She took a deep breath, her voice trembling slightly as she said, “The bitch part… it really hurt me. It’s always been a trigger word for me because it’s what my father always called my mother.”
I closed my eyes, regret slicing through me. “I never should’ve said it. My mother taught me better than that.”
“Name-calling is a deal breaker for me, Lincoln,” she said, her voice steady but with an edge. “I can’t have that kind of strife in my household.”
I looked up at her, a smile tugging at my lips despite the seriousness of the moment. “Are you considering moving in with me?”
She rolled her eyes, a faint smile curving her lips. “Not yet. Let’s see how it goes.”
I grinned. “I’m happy with that.”
She let out a small laugh. “I’m sure you are. You just got laid and suckered me into agreeing to eventually move in with you.”
“You got a deal, too,” I countered, lifting an eyebrow. “I’m going to the wedding.”
She narrowed her eyes at me playfully. “You promise to behave?”
“Of course,” I said with mock indignation. “I wouldn’t embarrass you… but I could get drunk if that’s what you want.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she scolded, swatting my chest. “I need you on your best behavior.”
“Then I will be,” I promised, my tone softening as I reached up to tuck another lock of hair behind her ear. After a beat, I asked, “Would you like me to feed you?”
She rested her head on my chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on my skin. “I think so.”
“Shower first, then food,” I suggested, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“What if I want food first?” she teased, her voice muffled against my chest.
“Do you?”
She shifted again, sliding off me, her head still resting on my chest. Her blonde hair was wild from our earlier activities, and I began smoothing it down with gentle strokes.
“You ruined my panties,” she muttered, holding up the torn lace with a pout.
I smirked. “You have more here,” I reminded her, thinking of the drawer I’d given her before our fallout. I’d hoped she would take up even more space in my life.
“These were my favorite pair,” she said, pouting. “And they were expensive.”
“I can buy you more,” I offered, my tone sincere.
“Hmm, I did mention it was the perfect time for gifts,” she mused, a playful glint in her eyes.
I feigned shock, placing a hand over my heart. “You would take advantage of my humbled state?”
She grinned, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “Not always, but this time, yes.”
I chuckled, brushing a kiss to her temple. “We can hit the stores if you like.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I hope you’re interested in having a houseguest for the weekend because I don’t feel like going home.”
“Always,” I replied without hesitation. “But I have two showings tomorrow.”
“Early?” she asked, her tone hopeful.
“11 and 1,” I said, then raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you?”
“I was gifting myself a day off,” she replied, though we both knew in our line of work, that was wishful thinking.
I laughed softly, pressing another kiss to the tip of her nose. “You know in this business, you never get a day off.”
“Unfortunately,” she sighed, snuggling closer.
I ran my fingers through her hair, smoothing it back. “Let’s shower and have some food,” I suggested.
She smiled, her lips brushing against my chest. “You ruined my favorite pair of panties, but I suppose I’ll forgive you,” she whispered, a teasing lilt in her voice.
“Only if you promise to stay,” I murmured, my heart swelling with the thought of her staying longer.
“Deal,” she whispered back, sealing it with a soft kiss.
I couldn’t bring myself to look at Michael’s face. The anguish etched into his features was too much to bear. We were sitting at Brooks and Son, nursing drinks after a long day, and I’d just dropped the bomb that I was attending Morgan’s wedding with Erika this Saturday. Instead of meeting his eyes, I focused on my scotch, absently swirling the ice cubes around with my finger, the clinking sound filling the heavy silence between us.
After what felt like an eternity, Michael finally spoke, his voice low and strained. “I want you to take something to her.”
I glanced up, catching the glimmer of desperation in his eyes. “What?”
“A letter,” he said, the words weighted with emotion. “I wrote it a few weeks ago. I knew she was never going to split from her fiancé, but Slade Abbott is all wrong for her. She belongs with me.”
My heart twisted for him. I reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder, trying to offer some semblance of comfort. “I’m sorry, Michael. I promised Erika I’d be her escort.”
He gave a small, resigned nod, the pain in his expression deepening. “Your relationship seems to be moving along.”
“It is,” I admitted, leaning back in my chair, “but it’s not without bumps. I fucked up more than once.”
Before Michael could respond, our waitress approached, asking if we needed refills. She was a pretty brunette, probably no older than twenty-two, with high cheekbones and full lips. I noticed the way her gaze flicked between Michael and me, a calculated interest in her eyes as if she were sizing us up.
In any other situation, I might’ve slipped her my card, but not tonight. “We’re good,” I told her, my voice flat. She flashed us a smile before turning to check on another table, her figure swaying as she walked away.
“She’s into you,” I said, tilting my head toward her retreating form.
Michael barely spared her a glance. “I have no interest. I love Morgan.”
I sighed, the weight of his unyielding devotion pressing down on me. “You need to get over her, Michael. Move on.”
“I can’t,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I love her.”
We’d had this conversation before, too many times to count. But this time, I could relate in a way I hadn’t before. The thought of being separated from Erika again was unbearable—I couldn’t function without her.
“I wish things were different,” I said, the words sounding hollow even to me.
“Me too,” Michael replied, lifting his glass and taking a long, hard gulp of his vodka.
A heavy silence settled between us. I swirled the remaining scotch in my glass, watching the amber liquid coat the sides before taking a sip. “I’d never wish ill on anyone,” I began, hesitating for a moment, “but maybe her marriage won’t work out.”
Michael’s eyes darkened as he stared into his drink. “Abbott is a smug bastard. I have a feeling it won’t work out, but who knows? That could be years from now. And in the meantime, I’ll spend my life comparing every woman to Morgan.”
His words hung in the air, a bleak truth that neither of us could deny. I wanted to offer him hope, some light at the end of this tunnel, but the reality was grim. Love, as powerful as it was, could also be a brutal force—leaving scars that time alone couldn’t heal.