EIGHT
Cassie
Five Months Ago
I was walking home when I heard the yelling. It was a joyful sort of whooping, and I smiled when I heard it, happy that someone was happy.
It took me far too long to understand that it was someone yelling for me.
“Cass!” Pounding footsteps came up behind me, and I turned just in time to see Lincoln barreling into me. He didn’t stop, though. Instead, he wrapped his arms around my waist and spun me around like this was some common thing we did.
I couldn’t help the laughter that spilled from my lips.
“What are you doing, you big dork?” I asked as he sat me down, smiling at me like I was the only person in the world he wanted to see. That was a very dangerous line of thought, and I worked hard to get my own smile under control.
“I did it! We fucking did it!” He held up a piece of paper, a quiz from his journalism class, and right there on top was a red B with a circle around it.
I squealed in delight and grabbed the test from his hands. I was thrilled that our hard work had paid off, that my tutoring had actually worked.
“I’m so proud of you,” I said and then cleared my throat, trying to remember who the hell I was talking to. It wasn’t easy. This last week, I’d seen him every single day to work on his quizzing, getting him prepared for the test. He was nervous as hell, and I knew that because he kept texting me:
I’m so fucking nervous. I’m going to puke.
It was charming, to say the least.
But this was Lincoln, my sworn enemy, and it would only hurt me if I forgot that.
“Good to know there’s a working brain in that head of yours,” I said to cover up the gushy, proud words.
“Yeah, I was hoping it still worked too,” he joked, tapping the side of his head. I really wish he would stop being nice. I had no room for Lincoln Ellis in my life, and if he started to behave himself and pretended we were friends? No. Couldn’t do it.
“Well, good work.” I gave him a wave as I turned back to walk home.
Before I’d taken two steps, he was beside me, walking too. “I have a favor to ask.”
“Another favor? Really racking them up, huh?”
He pursed his lips. “I want you to come to the game tonight.”
I paused in my steps as I hesitated.
In general, I wasn’t a fan of hockey—I wasn’t really a fan of sports—but I had no desire to go and sit in the stands and watch it. Plus, the brutality of the sport made my stomach churn, and I’d seen Lincoln get into his fair share of fights.
I usually only went to be there with Mick so she didn’t have to sit alone, but she hadn’t told me she was going tonight, and sitting there by myself sounded less than appealing.
“Um, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
I had no refute to this when he asked, “Why not?”
“I don’t really…like hockey.”
Lincoln’s eyes narrowed; he was watching me for something I couldn’t decipher.
“I know,” he answered, surprising me. “But I was hoping you would make an exception since the only reason I get to play tonight is because of you.”
Frowning at that observation, I said, “That’s not true. You put in the work and did well.”
Lincoln shrugged, and in a rare moment, I saw him be shy. It threw me off.
“Still, I want you to come.”
I want you to come.
Those words resonated in me somewhere, and before I knew it, I was agreeing to go to a hockey game. “Okay. Will Mick be there?”
He shrugged again. “No idea. She’s been acting off for a while now. I think she has studying to do.”
Off . I knew why she was acting off, and I couldn’t say a word about it. Oh god, Tanner was going to be there tonight. I hoped I wouldn’t see him and have to pretend that everything was normal.
I would go to the game and sneak out right after, that way there was no chance of me running into him and blowing their cover.
My stomach clenched, and I laid a hand over it, my body telling me that I was doing something wrong.
But it wasn’t my secret to tell. How could I be doing something wrong?
Lincoln’s brows furrowed. “Is something wrong?” He gestured to where I was holding my stomach.
“No. Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine.” I didn’t sound convincing to my own ears, and Lincoln looked at me like he wanted to ask more.
He nodded. “Okay, so you’re coming?”
I bit my lip but nodded my head and watched as Lincoln’s eyes lit up at the thought of me coming to his game. I shouldn’t have liked that, but I did.
Hours later, I found myself navigating through the stands to my spot in the hockey arena. It was a place I’d been many, many times since meeting Mick. She didn’t love coming by herself and would drag either me or Vic along to games, sometimes both of us.
I didn’t tell Mick where I was going when I left her in our apartment studying to come to the game, giving her a simple “heading out” comment instead.
We only had three months of school left. Three months, and then she and I would be free forever. The thought actually made me sad.
Rose Hill had become such a huge part of my life. But even though I’d grown up right outside of it, I wasn’t sure that it was where I wanted to stay, and that thought scared me. The thought of finally leaving the only place I’d ever known.
But another part of me wanted to experience living somewhere else, too. We only had one life, staying stagnant in one place wasn’t what we were supposed to do. Or at least, I didn’t feel that way.
The boys on the hockey team were already warming up when I showed up. I didn’t see Tanner anywhere and hoped that I could keep a low enough profile that he wouldn’t see me and rat me out to Mick.
I wasn’t hiding that I was here, per se, but I wasn’t ready for the inquisition that came with why I was being so nice to her brother, whom I’d hated so much.
That history was so complicated that explaining it now felt silly. She knew I was tutoring him, so if she asked, I’d tell the truth.
I rubbed at my forehead and reached for my bag, pulling out my latest read. I didn’t promise to watch him warm up, so I didn’t feel bad about that.
Just as I was able to block everything out, a pounding on the glass made my head jerk up in surprise. I wasn’t close enough to the ice to talk to the players, but there was no mistaking that the thump on the glass was directed at me.
Lincoln stared straight at me, a grin pulling at his lips when he saw me reading, and he…waved. Just waved. Nothing obnoxious to draw attention, just him telling me he saw me.
I lifted a hand, a small, unsure smile quirking at my lips, and wiggled my fingers back at him.
If possible, his grin stretched wider, and he touched his chest just before he skated off. No idea what the touch to his chest meant or if he needed anything.
I looked back down at my book and continued to read.
I had been so careful.
Right after the final buzzer went off for the game and the Vapors were announced the winners, I slipped out as fast as I could. Which was difficult, considering the crowd that was pushing in and trying to stay after the game to pretend it was one big party.
Didn’t they know there was a bar for that?
It took me a solid thirty minutes just to exit the arena, and another ten to get through the exit for the parking lot. I was just at the sidewalk that would lead me back to my place when I heard pounding footsteps behind me. I ducked my head to the right, thinking whomever it was would pass by me in a hurry like everyone else.
“Sunshine, wait up.” A hand wrapped around my arm, and I spun, ready to hi-yah the person with my purse. I breathed a sigh of relief when Lincoln looked down at me.
“Oh, hi.” I furrowed my brows. “How the heck did you get out here so fast?”
He shrugged his massive shoulders. “Eh, victory speeches are a lot shorter than losing ones.”
I laughed. I didn’t mean to. I mean, for fuck’s sake, this was Lincoln. Lincoln, notorious player and all-around poor decision.
His mouth curved into a grin, and he nodded behind me. “Did you walk here?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Yeah.”
His eyes turned worried, and he tilted his head backward, readjusting the heavy bag on his shoulder. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”
“I…” I didn’t have a good excuse not to let him, but there was something in my gut that told me to proceed with caution.
“Come on, please. I don’t want you to walk home in the dark with all of these drunk idiots.”
I glanced around at the crowd around us and knew he was right. “Fine, but only so I don’t get mugged or something.”
“Only for that.” Lincoln nodded, and then I was following him back up to the arena. To the side was a gated area where the staff and players could park, and he slipped a key card out of his wallet to unlock it.
I stood aside silently and walked through when he gestured for me to go in front of him. Many players were getting in their cars now, hollering at Lincoln, and he was just as obnoxious back. I laughed at the way they were, glad he wasn’t being shy just because I was there.
He looked over at me when I laughed again and winked at me, making that swirling in my gut appear yet again. What was up with that?
Almost to his car, our footsteps faltered when Crew stepped out of nowhere and gave me a big hug.
“You finally came to my game!” I smiled at him when he set me down, and he looked between Lincoln and me.
“Well, Lincoln invited me, and—”
“Oh, sure, come for this guy.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Come to the bar with us, let me buy you a drink.”
I couldn’t think of anything I’d like to do less.
I wasn’t a huge fan of going out and partying, but I was an even less fan of going to the sports bar that catered to our teams here. I hated watching the way girls threw themselves at all the athletes.
“Oh, no, I’m good. Lincoln was just going—”
“Well, I’ll take you home. We can hang out,” Crew said again, his eyes moving with intention to Lincoln. It was a weird move, and I frowned when I saw it.
I glanced back at Lincoln and saw his fists and jaw clenched. What the hell was going on with these two?
“Honestly, I’m beat.” I wasn’t really, but I just wanted to go home.
“Come on,” Crew croons at me. I liked Crew, and he’d become a good friend, but sometimes he was a bit much and something about the way he seemed to be goading Lincoln was not making me feel any better.
“She said no. Drop it,” Lincoln growled, and I blinked at him in surprise.
Crew straightened up, and I saw something flash in my mind—a vision of these two pummeling each other—and I stepped between them, boldly taking Lincoln’s rough hand in my own.
I didn’t know what I was doing, but he relaxed almost instantly when I was holding his hand.
“Another time, Crew. I really just want to go home, and Lincoln wanted to see Mick anyway.”
Crew looked at me, giving me kind eyes and a wink. “No worries, have fun.”
In an instant, Crew had changed his tune and sauntered away like nothing happened.
I led Lincoln over to his car. “What was that about, Muscles?”
He smirked at the nickname, maybe suspecting that I was trying to joke and shook his head. “Nothing. Just having some issues.”
“I thought you two were tight,” I said, leaning against the car. I glanced down to see his hand still clasped in my own.
Oh no. There was that swirling again.
“We were, until…” He sighed, deep and long and tired. “I’m surprised you didn’t want to go with him.”
I shrugged. “Why?”
“Because you two are…” He trailed off, and I waited patiently to hear what he had to say.
“We are, what?” I asked, highly confused.
Lincoln stared down at me, something passing over his features, but there was still a hint of confusion there. “I thought you guys were together.”
The blunt statement threw me off, and I blinked rapidly for a moment before I could even find words.
“What?” Not an eloquent response, but shock was overloading my brain. “Together?”
“That’s the way he’s been saying it.”
I felt anger and embarrassment creeping to the surface. “Saying what exactly?”
Lincoln ran a hand through his hair. “That you two are dating. That you’ve been dating since like Thanksgiving.”
I gaped at him, so lost on how this happened. “I don’t understand.” I shook my head, thinking back over the times I’d hung out with Crew. All we did was sit around and read or talk story structure, but…dating. “We hang out, sometimes.”
A vein contracts in his forehead, and he shrugs. “That’s not the way he said it.”
It made me feel a little gross that Crew was going behind my back and saying he was what? Dating me?
“I don’t know what to say,” I answered, unsure what to say. Part of me wanted to confront him, to ask him what the hell he was thinking by lying to his teammates about dating me, and another part of me was just absolutely gobsmacked that he would somehow use me in his little game.
I planned to talk with him about it, knowing that it very well could end that friendship.
It was unfortunate.
“Come on,” Lincoln said after a minute, giving my hand that he was still holding a squeeze. “I’ll take you home.”
Unable to figure out where we went from here in this conversation, I slipped between the door he held open and the car. For a moment, I looked at Lincoln. For a moment, I wanted to tell him in a rush that Crew and I weren’t dating.
For just one moment, I felt this deep need to reassure him that everything was fine. That Crew wasn’t dating me, that we were just friends like Lincoln and me.
Friends like Lincoln and me? Did I just refer to us as friends?
Also, why was I worried about comforting him over who I was dating? It certainly wasn’t his problem, and I can’t see why he would give a crap if I was dating someone.
I buckled my seat belt and clutched my bag to my chest. Real life was giving me a headache, I just needed to get home safely and dive back into reading. Or…writing, which was what I should have been doing all night instead of going to a hockey game.
Lincoln said nothing as he drove through the parking lot, safely checking his mirrors and watching for others as he shifted the stick shift. My eyes stayed glued to that one spot the whole drive, watching his hand flex and move through the motions with ease.
I clutched my bag even tighter, biting my lip as I watched, unable to look away.
Holy shit, something was seriously wrong with me.
Finally, we stopped outside my place. The three-story building was lit up in various windows, announcing the presence of some of the occupants.
But my brain wasn’t thinking about whether Mick was home or if Vic, our resident couch surfer, was home. It was on the way Lincoln opened the door for me, on the way he grabbed for my hand and held it until I was sturdy on my feet and standing outside of his car, looking back at it like it was a monster about to bite.
A clearing of his throat had my eyes jumping to his, and I blushed. I felt it spread over my cheeks and down my neck like a bad rash, and I turned, marching up to the doors that led into my building with a swiftness I didn’t feel.
I had no thoughts that were rational, the only thing I could think was get in the building, stop looking at Lincoln.
But of course, he was quick. Quick enough to beat me to the door and hold it open, quick enough to escort me inside.
Shit.
“You don’t—”
“Let me walk you up.”
Our words collided, and our gazes snapped to each other’s. I saw something in his deep-brown eyes that I’d never seen before, so I didn’t know what to do.
I knew he couldn’t come in.
I didn’t know if Mick was home or if Tanner came over after the game.
Dammit. I hated lying to people.
I never would have thought it would be a problem to lie to Lincoln, of all people. He was an arrogant ass. He hurt people. He let his inhibitions lead his actions.
I pinched my eyes closed, not wanting to think about that.
“No,” I said with finality. “It’s okay. I’ve got some stuff to work on tonight.”
For a moment, he let those words settle between us. “All right.” He licked his lips, and I let my gaze wander there. Only for a moment, but it happened long enough that he tracked it.
His foot took a step toward me, his hands open between us, as if he were going to catch this moment between us with his bare hands.
I took a step back when a memory flashed in my mind.
He noticed.
But of course he did. Lincoln noticed everything.
“Can I see you soon?” His words came out in a surprising rush, and I stared at him again. Something crunched in my bag at the tightness of my grip on it. “For.” He cleared his throat and looked away. There was something about his expression that told me he was thinking about something other than what was coming out of his mouth. “Studying?” Finally, he settled on his question.
I knew it wasn’t what he wanted to ask.
I needed to get back to hating him. Hating him was easier than pretending he never hurt me. Hating him was easier than pretending I didn’t care.
So, I channeled the Cassie that was convincing in my hate for Lincoln Ellis, and I let out a long sigh. “Fine. I guess. But give me a break from your presence for at least two days.”
It was a rude thing to say, and he should have looked like I’d socked him in the gut after I’d been so nice all day. After I’d come to his game and cheered him on, he was supposed to be irritated that I was resorting back to that easy hatred between us.
“Trust me,” he stated, licking his pillowy-looking lips. Ugh. Maybe I do hate him. But there was another strange gleam in his eye as he said, “I need the break from you just as much as you need one from me.”
Then he turned on his heel and marched out of my building like he was pissed off that he had to be in my space for even a moment.
For whatever reason, I went to bed with a smile on my face that night.