Chapter 12 Lincoln
LINCOLN
I arrived at the restaurant twenty minutes early. I tried telling myself it wasn’t because I was nervous, but ten minutes into waiting, I decided to be honest with myself. My nerves were hanging by their last thread. Twelve years later, I was having dinner with my ex-girlfriend.
It was nerve-racking. But only because I never stopped loving her, and I was scrambling to get her to stop hating me. As I waited, I scoped the place out. It was upscale but cozy with a lot of dim lighting.
Shit. Now that I thought about it, maybe this atmosphere was too romantic.
It wasn’t supposed to be a date. Ava was adamant that this wasn’t a romantic thing.
She had emphasized that when I called and offered to pick her up at her hotel.
She opted to drive herself, telling me, “This isn’t a date, Lincoln. Just two people eating.”
I blew out a breath and picked up the glass of water I’d been nursing. I wasn’t sure how much longer I sat alone when I glanced up and there she was, being led to our table by the hostess. I stood up and waited.
I swallowed because my tongue threatened to roll out of my head like a cartoon character.
Ava was a stunning vision in a deep emerald cocktail dress that hugged her frame.
The neckline dipped just enough to stay elegant rather than provocative.
The hem hit mid-thigh, showing off her long, shapely legs.
The strappy heels she strutted in gave me ideas about those long legs wrapped around my waist…
I had to shove away my lascivious thoughts before I got a boner right there in the middle of the restaurant.
Stopping at our table, Ava smiled at the hostess, who then took off. “Lincoln,” she greeted.
“Ava…”
Her cheeks took on a pink hue. Smoothing a hand over her loose hair that hung above her shoulders, she asked, “What?”
Realizing I’d been gawking at her like an idiot, I stuttered, “Nothing… It’s just… You look great.” Jesus. I’d totally lost my cool. I guess I just lost plenty of those rizz points Jaden had mentioned.
She blushed harder. “I only got dressed up because I looked this place up and realized how swanky it was. This isn’t…”
“A date. Yeah, I got that,” I murmured, pulling her chair out.
So far, we were off to an awkward start. I felt like sixteen again on my first date.
When we were settled, she asked, “Do you come here often?”
“Not really.”
She nodded. There was a stiffness in her posture as if she were bracing for something. Now, I felt pressured not to say the wrong thing. I just wanted this night to go well.
“So, how does this work?” she asked. “Do I interview you for real or what?”
I smiled. “I don’t think it’s necessary, but feel free to ask me anything relevant to Jaden’s feature while we catch up.”
“Catch up…” she hummed.
“Yes, Ava. Let’s just eat and catch up.”
She stared at me until the sliver of uncertainty in her eyes faded. “Yes, let’s eat. I’m starving. I’ve barely eaten all day. I could eat this entire restaurant.”
My shoulders relaxed as I laughed. That sounded like my Ava.
After a while, our interaction became so easy, I forgot that there were years of unsolved issues between us. Ava seemed to have forgotten, too. We chatted about the things we’d been up to over the years.
During the main course, I learned about her journey to becoming a writer.
I thought it was fitting for her. She loved to read as a kid and constantly wrote about everything.
She laughed heartily at stories of some adventures I had over the years—plenty of them involved my two craziest friends, Spencer and Alex.
“It’s nice that you’ve stayed close with your college friends,” she said.
I nodded. “Yeah, it’s hard to find genuine, lifelong friends like that. What about you?”
“Actually, Melody and I are still close.”
“Melody…” I squinted as I tried to remember. “The blonde from high school?”
Ava smiled. “That’s her. We’re still thick as thieves.
We even have neighboring cubicles at work.
You should have seen how happy she was when I got this gig to come to LA.
You’d think it was she who got the big break.
She practically packed my bags for me and told me to get as many autographs from hot celebs as I could—a phone number or two as well, if I can. ”
I chuckled. “Maybe I can help with the autographs. The phone numbers… I’m not so sure.”
She smirked. “You hang out with plenty of celebrities, huh?”
“Most times as an obligation, but sure.”
Her gaze swept the room as she hummed. She’d been doing that a lot since she got here—seemingly looking for someone. I figured she was still a little skeptical about us hanging out.
Her phone buzzed in her handbag for about the fifth time in thirty minutes. As always, when she peeked at the device, a shadow of unease came over her. By the time we were almost through with dessert, there was no denying that she was distracted.
“Everything alright, Ava?”
Her eyes, which had been bouncing from table to table, swung back to me. “Sure. Dinner was good. Hats off to the chef.”
“You seem…”
Her phone buzzed again. This time, she didn’t bother to look at it, but I saw the way she tensed and got a pained look on her face.
“You can answer your phone, Ava. I don’t mind. It sounds important.”
“It’s not.”
Again, her eyes circled the room.
“Looking for someone?” I asked.
Her face flushed. “No.”
Leaning forward as if that would help me capture her full attention, I hesitantly brought up our kiss. “So… what happened at Jaden’s… I was—”
“Lincoln, I thought you just wanted to catch up.”
“I do, but maybe if we talk about it, about everything, we can move on.”
Her eyes shuttered. I knew I messed up when she leaned back and folded her arms across her middle. That was her emotionally retreating pose.
Sighing softly, I prepared myself for the backlash because I wasn’t about to back down. “Come on, Ava. Talk to me.”
“I didn’t agree to this dinner to rehash the past.”
“Alright. Why did you come? You must have known our past would come up. It’s going to keep coming up if we avoid talking about it. If you could just stop acting cagey, we can address it and get it out of the way.”
Fury sparked in her eyes. I was in for a lashing from that sharp tongue of hers, but that was good. At least she’d be talking, and we could finally get somewhere.
For a moment, she said nothing. “Fine, you want the truth?”
“That would be nice.”
“I didn’t want to have dinner. I knew it was a bad idea. But I accepted because I had an agenda, okay?”
My heart sank.
“I was following up on something.” Her eyes skated away from me. “A potential story. I knew you’d take me someplace that celebrities frequented. Like this place that I couldn’t get into otherwise. I was hoping to see someone or… someone associated with her.”
“Who?”
“You know what? Never mind that.”
I tamped down the hurt rising in my chest. “You came here to… use me?”
She had the decency to look guilty… for a hot second. “I didn’t know what would happen. I saw a chance, and I took it.”
I scoffed. “I can’t believe this. You played nice all evening for a story? Nice, Ava.”
“Don’t you dare,” she hissed. “Don’t you dare sit here and act like you have some moral high ground. As if you didn’t use me for an entire summer to pass the time just to discard me when you…” her voice cracked.
The play of emotions on her face sent me tumbling from my moral high horse rapidly.
“What do you want from me, Lincoln? What was your agenda for tonight? My forgiveness, so you can get closure and not feel guilty about what you did?”
My eyes widened. “Ava, you have it all wrong. I never used—”
“Save it.” Her eyes glistened with tears. But she blinked them away. “You think an expensive dinner can fix everything?”
“No,” I said quietly, my heart aching. “I just wanted to know if there was any part of you that doesn’t hate me.”
Her chin wobbled as she stared at me. I waited, held my breath, and ignored the people starting to watch us with curiosity.
“Thank you for dinner,” she said in a clipped tone, then stood up.
I stood up too. “Ava…”
But she was gone, already doing an Olympic-worthy walk to the exit.
I debated running after her to tell her she had the story wrong.
I never used her. She was the love of my life.
I’d never felt for another woman the things I felt for her.
But what was the point? The damage was already done.
Even if I explained—and by some miracle she forgave me—I’d never gain her trust again.
Michael opened the door. Wearing his typical solemn expression, he gave me a proper assessment. The way I leaned on the wall, barely able to hold myself up, and my dishevelled appearance told him everything.
“Shit. You’re drunk.”
“Little bit,” I slurred, holding my index finger and thumb close together.
He shook his head and stepped aside without another word, and I stumbled into his apartment. When I threw myself onto the sectional, he folded his arms and peered at me as a father would a child.
“I’m going to assume you didn't drive here because you're way too responsible for such reckless behavior… right?”
I snorted. He was such a dad… which made sense since he actually had a kid. Speaking of… “Of course, I didn’t drive. Where’s Poppy? I don’t want her to see me like this.”
“Asleep. She got bored without Mia here. Apparently, I'm not as much fun.”
I grinned. “You’re not. Where’s the wife?”
“Mia is hanging out with her brother tonight.”
“Good, good. Bring out the bourbon. I can afford to get a little more shitfaced.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Rough day?”
“You have no idea,” I sighed.
With his eyebrows hiked up a little higher, he said, “In that case, I guess I’m drinking with you.”
He disappeared and came back with the bottle of bourbon I requested and two glasses. He sat and filled them. Sliding me one, he said, “I’m cutting you off at two glasses. You’re already half drunk.”