FIFTEEN
Lincoln
Present
The diner was at a nice little afternoon lull when I walked in, my school bag thrown over my shoulder and a determination to fix my life nipping at my heels.
Tanner—still not used to calling him by his first name—was working with the school to give me time to fix what I fucked up at the end of last semester. Since he had some sway and I was the captain of the team, so far, I was getting another shot to make up for it.
This time, I got to pick the subject.
This probably wouldn’t have happened if I’d gotten to pick the subject the last time around, but I decided not to dwell on that and move forward.
Cassie was nowhere in sight when I walked in, but Heather was there, working through the afternoon calmly with a smile on her face. A smile that brightened the moment she laid eyes on me.
Heather was just as beautiful as her daughter and was a champion of mine, rooting for me to make things right with said daughter.
She once said she never saw her happier than those few weeks we were together.
Those weeks were far too fucking short, and I was determined to get more of them in the future. Weeks, months, years…all of it.
“Lincoln! There’s my future son-in-law.” Heather lifts her arms, hurrying around the bar top to come and give me a huge hug. See, I said she loved me.
“Heather,” I say back, returning the hug just as fiercely. “It’s so good to see you.”
“You too, hon! I can’t believe you’ve deprived me of this face for so long.” She reaches up and actually pinches my cheek, making me grin.
She was so cheesy, but something about that made her even more endearing.
“I’m sorry, I was trying to.” I shrug, unsure what to say. I still don’t see Cassie, but I say, “I was trying to respect her wishes.”
She lifts a brow and nods in understanding. “I get it, Linc. She’s a stubborn one.”
I don’t reply, because right at that moment, she walks through the back door that leads into the kitchen, her long blonde hair is up high in a bun, and her face is flushed from the heat of the kitchen. She’s got her Retro Vibes T-shirt on and an apron around her waist.
Her gaze pulls to mine, and for a few long minutes, we stare at each other, lost in a world that exists only between the two of us.
Okay, maybe I’m cheesy.
Or maybe it’s all those books Cassie recommended when we were on fantastic fucking terms that I’ve been reading the last few months to feel close to her.
She blinks, breaking the contact, and turns and walks to her tables, ignoring me once again.
Heather pats my shoulder. “Give her time,” she says and nods at the booth Cassie and I used to occupy. Our booth.
I smile at Heather, pretending Cassie brushing me off doesn’t sting like hell, and make my way to the booth, plopping down and giving my full attention—well, more like ninety-eight percent of my attention—to my work. The other two percent is on the blonde avoiding me from across the diner.
Marie brings me water without asking and winks. Seems everyone here is on my side.
Then, I dive into my work.
Or I try, at least. It’s a little distracting having Cassie so close to me while I’m trying to focus on work, but it’s comforting being in the same vicinity as her. I’ve missed coming here and working together. My emotions ranged from dreading tutoring sessions, knowing that I was going to have to sit on my hands and let her teach me without doing any of the things I wanted to do, to looking forward to each and every time I was going to get schooled.
The mindset shift was real.
When planning to work toward this paper for the second time, I decided this was the only place I could focus. It wasn’t even because the hockey house was loud, because a lot of guys were home for the first couple months of summer, only coming back in August when pre-season training would begin.
So, really, I had no excuse except that I wanted to be here.
An hour into my work, the door signals a new customer like it’s done several times throughout the time I’ve been here, but I glance up to see a tall guy with glasses, a button-down, and slacks entering. Heather goes to him, and he pulls her into him slightly, making my brows raise as he places a gentle kiss on her cheek.
Heather escorts him to a table and has him sit, then holds up a finger before rushing back to the kitchen.
I watch the guy who just kissed Cassie’s mom’s cheek and furrow my brow. He licks his lips and tugs at his shirt. His hands disappear under the table, and I can only guess he’s wiping sweaty palms on his pants.
Who the fuck was this guy?
A minute later, Cassie trails her mom out of the kitchen, her eyes track to me briefly before switching to the guy. She looks shy, apprehensive, but pastes a slight smile on her face when the man stands and holds out his hand for her to shake. She does, and they make small talk while I gawk like a fucking stalker.
Was this Heather’s boyfriend or something? Or something else? I couldn’t get a read on anyone. Heather seems excited but reserved, the guy looks like he’s trying hard to be pleasant, even if you can see the nerves all over his face. And Cassie looks like she wants to enjoy herself but is having a hard time doing so.
I stand, without any other thought other than Cassie needs someone in her corner, and march up to the group that’s still standing beside the booth.
Heather sees me coming, and her shoulders sag in what I hope is relief.
“Oh, George, this is Lincoln, he’s Cassie’s good friend,” she says when I’m close enough, smiling brightly.
“Oh.” He blinks in surprise and puts his hand out for me to shake. I smile pleasantly, still unsure of what is going on, and shake his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” I reply, taking a step toward Cassie. When she sways in my direction, I take a bold move and wrap my hand around her hip, holding her to me.
“So, George,” I start, lifting a brow. “Come here often?”
I smirk to ease the tension, and he chuckles. Heather smiles at me, grateful, I think, for my ability to steer an awkward conversation.
“Pretty often, yes.”
Cassie clears her throat, and I look down at her, smiling when her gorgeous eyes meet mine. “George is Mom’s boyfriend; we were just meeting.”
“Oh wow.” I nod and smile at Heather, who’s now beaming at her daughter’s words. I guess that confirmation of boyfriend really did the trick. “That’s great. We should all have dinner sometime.”
Heather latches onto that before Cassie can argue. “Yes! Let’s do that. Saturday?” She looks hopefully between the three of us, and I nod my agreement.
“I can make that work,” George replies, giving me a nervous grin.
“Okay,” Cassie says and pushes into me slightly.
I take the cue. “Cass, could I get your help with something really quick?” I nod over to our booth, and she nods quickly.
“Sure, nice meeting you, George,” she says and waves as we walk away. I steal a glance over my shoulder to see Heather turned toward George, who’s wiping a hand over his forehead.
I was glad he was nervous about meeting Cassie, that meant he knew how important she and Heather’s relationship was.
I settle Cassie into the same side of the booth I was working on and scoot in beside her. She seems a little shell-shocked, so I grab my water and hand it over to her, watching her carefully as she takes the straw between her teeth and wraps her lips around it, drinking thoroughly.
After a moment, I see George has left, Heather has gone back to work, and Cassie is still staring at my laptop where it rests on the table. The screen is dark, so she’s not able to read my paper, which is probably for the best at the moment.
“You okay?” I ask after long moments of silence.
She shrugs a shoulder. “Yeah. I guess.”
“Did you know you were meeting him today?”
“He’s my mom’s new boyfriend,” she replies instead of answering my question.
“Yeah, I gathered that.” I bite my lip, my right arm resting on the booth behind her and my left forearm on the table, bracketing her in, my attention all on her.
“I was meeting him for the first time, I—” She pauses, taking another sip of water before she blinks over at me. “My mom has never had a boyfriend before.”
Ah, okay, so this was something more than just meeting the boyfriend for the first time. I rest my right hand on the back of her neck in a comforting move. I don’t think she needs me to say much, but she looks like she needs me to listen.
“I never even thought about that, which must make me crazy selfish, right?” she asks, her tone is more wistful than sad. I don’t think she’s actually sad about the situation at all, more like observant, like she’s never seen anything like this before. “I just always assumed that when you loved someone the way my mom loved my dad, that your heart wouldn’t feel that need to ever love anyone else.” She shakes her head and scoffs a laugh. “That’s dumb.”
“It’s not dumb.” I rub her neck again. “It’s…new.”
Finally, her eyes meet mine, and I take in a breath at the contact. It’s the first time since I walked over to their little group that she’s actually looked me in the eyes and actually seen me.
All our moments over the past month hit me—us in various bathrooms, at the ice rink, and now here. All I want to do is put the past behind us and move forward.
But I can’t ask for that when I know she deserves more than just a quick “I’m sorry.” She deserves to be treated right every day.
“He seemed nice, right?” she asks me, looking at me like there were some trust still there.
That gave me a boost of hope I wasn’t expecting.
“Yeah, he seemed really nice.” I nod. “He seems like he likes your mom a lot.”
He’d be an idiot not to, but I don’t say that out loud.
“Yeah, he does.” She finally takes in a deep breath and lets it out. Tearing her eyes from me, she gestures toward the laptop. “How’s that going?”
I grin and say, “It’s going. I like the subject.”
“Oh? What is it?”
I wish I could tell her, but instead I say, “How are you doing?”
She frowns. “I’m fine.” Shrugging, she picks up my discarded straw wrapper and starts twisting it around her fingers. “I met Crew for coffee this morning.”
“Good.” I nod, already knowing that happened because he told me.
She blinks over at me and seems to be gauging my response. “You’re not upset by that at all?”
“Nope,” I answer, confident and sure. I wasn’t trying to hide any kind of jealousy or emotion. I knew the truth behind their relationship now and had complete confidence that they were just friends.
“Huh, maybe you have matured a little,” she murmurs, glancing at me shyly. I look down at her shirt and apron.
Waving a finger at her, I ask, “Why are you working here?”
She frowns, glancing down at her shirt. “Why not?”
I purse my lips and think about how much I want to get into. I know I’m not her boyfriend anymore, which grates every time I think about it. But I’m still her friend, and as much as I don’t want to rock the boat, I want to push her to be her best, just like she does for me, even if she doesn’t realize it.
“You have an epic book ready to be published, you shouldn’t be working in a diner.”
I said that wrong. The minute it passes my lips, I know it.
“As if working in a diner is beneath me, right?” She scoffs and crosses her arms.
“That came out wrong.” No shit. “I mean, you should be doing what you love, which is writing and publishing. Do you realize how amazing your work is, Sunshine? It’s fucking brilliant.”
She shakes her head. “You base that opinion off one book you’ve read. You haven’t read a bunch of other fantasy novels to compare it to.”
“Actually, I have,” I reply, shocking her.
“You have? When?”
I grate my teeth. “I’ve had a lot of free time in the last few months.” I don’t mean to throw anything in her face, but she flinches all the same.
“So, you’ve filled your free time with books?”
“What else am I supposed to fill it with?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. Girls.”
I think I actually cracked a molar from how hard I clench my jaw at her accusation. I lean in close, close enough that she has no choice but to look at me, and I practically growl out my next words. “The only girl I want in my life is you, Sunshine.”
Cassie seems to flush, and I watch that blush spread over her cheeks and down her neck. It has stark memories rushing to the surface, and I tell myself to calm down.
“Linc,” she starts, her mouth opening and closing a few times but nothing coming out, her eyes darting between mine, unable to look away.
“I can’t stress this enough,” I start, needing to make sure I’m crystal fucking clear. This is what women want, right? Communication? “You are the only woman I care about and the only one who will be in my bed. I don’t want anyone else. I don’t need anyone but you. And when you’re ready, that will be where your ass is. In. My. Bed.” I’m still close enough to smell the jasmine scent that wafts off her skin and into my senses. “Tell me you get that.”
Swallowing hard, she nods her head.
“Good.” I brush my fingers over the back of her neck again. “Now, tell me you’ll have dinner with me.”
“I—”
“Cass! Table three.” Marie’s voice bellows from behind the countertop, and Cassie looks over in surprise.
“I have to work.”
“Sunshine,” I say as I stand, not wanting to put distance between us but not really having much choice.
“I’m not ready,” she says quickly, and I frown, wondering if she means publishing her book or going out with me. Before I can clarify, she’s off to working her tables, and I’m left to wonder how the hell I’m going to move us forward.