Chapter 15 Lincoln
LINCOLN
I sat on my penthouse terrace, staring out. It was getting dark, and the skyline glowed with artificial lights. The distant music from a rooftop party floated on the breeze. The tranquil scene was lost on me. My mind was a mess—stuck on Ava.
Always Ava.
She haunted my thoughts even when she was long out of sight, but since she’d reappeared in my life, it was constant.
Things between us weren’t as hostile as when she first got to LA.
We were getting friendlier, one reluctant conversation at a time.
Things shifted between us the night I helped her out.
Her glares had become less severe. She even smiled at me yesterday. Twice.
Sweet progress.
I smiled slightly at that thought. But I wasn’t foolish enough to think we were anywhere near okay. There was still years of hurt between us. Years I had no idea how to make up for. She didn’t trust me, and maybe she never would.
How did I show her she could?
I leaned back in the lounge chair and tapped out a rhythm on the arm with my fingers.
Call her and invite her out for drinks or dinner?
I stared at my cell, sitting on the table.
No. That would make it too easy for her to turn me down. Besides, plying her with drinks and expensive dishes wouldn’t impress her. Then it hit me. She was hell-bent on making a name for herself in journalism. What better way to show her I cared than by being supportive?
It worried me that she might be going up against unscrupulous characters who wouldn’t hesitate to lash out.
But I knew her well. She wouldn’t back down.
I had to protect her. There was no way I’d sit back and allow her to go into the underbelly of this town alone.
She’d probably hate the idea of me helping, but tough.
In time, she would accept it—and realize how much she still meant to me.
I got up and left my apartment with determination.
It took about an hour, with the evening traffic, to get to Ava’s hotel.
I frowned as I parked and looked up at the building.
I didn’t even like the idea of her being there.
It wasn’t an absolute shithole, but it could be safer.
Maybe I could talk her into staying at a more secure location, which I’d pay for…
After a beat, I snorted. “No, she’ll tell me where to shove my money.” That was Ava for you.
Getting out of the car, I made my way to her floor. Before I knocked, I braced myself for the resistance I knew she’d put up. Then I knocked. I heard the soft pad of her footsteps approaching the door.
I smiled because I knew she watched me through the peephole.
“What are you doing here, Lincoln?” she called.
I sighed softly. “I can't visit a friend?”
Her derisive snort made me raise my eyebrows, but at least she opened the door.
She was in a robe. I swallowed hard, willing myself not to think dirty thoughts about her possibly not having anything underneath.
That wasn’t hard to do once I focused on her face.
Her eyes were wide, and not in the usual annoyed-with-me kind of way.
Her face was pale, and her lips were tight in a worried line. She looked spooked.
“Ava, what’s wrong?”
As if realizing what her expression showed, she blinked and shook her head. “Nothing, just got a phone call, that’s all.” I noticed the way her fingers tightened around the phone she held.
My eyes narrowed. “What kind of phone call?”
She took a step back before I could press further. “What are you doing here, Lincoln?”
I folded my arms. “Invite me in, and I’ll tell you.”
Her eyes narrowed to suspicious slits.
We stood there, locked in a silent challenge. But then she sighed, gave me one more suspicious glance, and opened the door wider.
“Fine, come in.”
I stepped inside and glanced at her laptop on the little table in front of the bed. “Hope I’m not messing with your creative flow,” I said lightly.
She snorted, shutting the lid. “Trust me, there was no flow to mess with. I’ve been staring at that screen for an hour.”
I noticed a wineglass on the nightstand and an open bottle sitting beside it. “Long day?”
After a moment’s hesitation, she said, “More like a long evening.”
I nodded, surprised that she was engaging this much. “Does it have anything to do with that phone call?”
She glanced at the cell she’d thrown onto the bed.
My eyebrows furrowed. It was like she was terrified of the device or something.
“You could say that.” She walked over, picked up the bottle, and after a beat, lifted her gaze to mine. “Do you want a glass?”
I blinked. “You’re offering me wine?”
She arched an eyebrow. “Don’t make it weird. It’s not a peace treaty. We’re not besties now or anything.”
I pursed my lips to hide my smirk. She was warming up to me, no matter how much she tried to play tough. “Of course not.”
“I just feel like I owe you at least a drink for bailing me out of jail.” She rubbed her forehead. “I still can’t believe I got arrested. It will stay between us… right?”
“Scout’s honor.”
She rolled her eyes. “You were never a Boy Scout.”
I grinned. “I’ll take the secret to the grave, and sure I’ll take a glass.”
With a tiny smile, she refilled her glass and poured another.
I mentally fist-pumped the air. This was good. More progress. Maybe she’d be more receptive to my proposition than I thought.
When she handed the glass to me, our fingers brushed for the briefest second. She looked away quickly, but not before I saw the flicker of awareness in her eyes. The electricity between us would never go away… even if we spent another twelve years apart.
She gestured to the armchair as she sat on the bed.
I took my seat and took a sip, watching her. She looked everywhere but directly at me, and her cheeks were flushed. I bet I knew why. The room wasn’t all that spacious, and things seemed a little too intimate with her just inches away from me on her bed.
“Thanks,” I said, lifting the glass.
She tucked a leg under her. “So, what was so important that you decided to leave your swanky side of town to slum it here?”
“How do you know I live on the swanky side of town?"
Her eyebrows shot up. “Well, I doubt any billionaires live on this side of the city.”
My lips twisted wryly. “Speaking of. This place isn’t all that secure. Did you book it?”
“No, this is what the paper can afford.” She looked around the room. “Although, if it were their star reporter, I’m pretty sure he would have gotten more than two stars.”
“You know, I can—”
She held up a finger. “Don’t even. I’d never let you pay for my stay at some fancy five-star place.”
My mouth snapped shut. See? I still knew her well.
“Well, why are you here, Lincoln? You’d better talk fast and go outside to check on your sweet ride. I’m not sure this neighborhood has seen many Porsches just lying around. I fear for its safety.”
I scoffed. “But not yours?”
“I’m a big girl, Lincoln. I’ll be fine.” She impatiently raised her eyebrows. “Well, what’s this visit about?”
Twirling my glass, I began, “I’m here about what you told me the other night.”
“I told you many things. What’s that?”
“That story you’re pursuing. You’re not doing it without me.”
She blinked. Her expression then twisted into a mix of disbelief and humor. “Excuse me?”
I met her gaze steadily. “You heard me. I want in. I want to help.”
“Because between rising to NFL stardom and managing other athletes’ careers, you somehow found time to study journalism…?”
“Ava.”
She let out a laugh. “Wait, you’re serious?”
“Very.”
That suspicious look she’d eyed me with since the night we reunited appeared. “Why?”
“Because I care.”
Her eyebrows arched almost to the ceiling. “Care about what, exactly?”
You. Maybe she’d balk at that. So, I tried another angle.
“I care about what this could mean. Look, I know I don’t have ties to that athlete you mentioned, but I don’t want to see any athlete wrapped up in anything nefarious.
I’ve been around this business long enough to know that things can take a dark turn if someone, especially someone that young, doesn’t have a little sound guidance. ”
Ava was quiet, her skeptical expression still firmly in place, but there was a flicker of curiosity now.
“I know what it’s like to be young and overwhelmed,” I continued.
“To have people whispering in your ear, promising you the world while slowly dismantling your foundation. I had people who kept me grounded—who steered me away from the darker paths. This kid might not. If something is going on, maybe I can help protect him and others before it’s too late. ”
I exhaled, my tone softening. “It’s not just about him. It’s about the game, Ava. The sport I love. I don’t want to see it tainted. If you’re on a mission to find proof of something shady, I want in.”
Her arms crossed. “Okay, nice speech. I get it, but how can you help? What are you going to do? Proofread my exposé if there turns out to be one?”
“Don’t be a smartass.”
She laughed. “I don’t know how else to be.”
“I can’t help you with the actual writing of the damn thing. I can help you get information… without getting arrested.”
Her bottom lip protruded into that cute little pout I loved. “I’m listening.”
“I think you’re fearless. You proved that when you snuck into that party. But you need access. Let’s be honest—you’re not getting into some of those parties or VIP areas without someone like me.”
“A celebrity?”
I grimaced. I never did like being called that. “Someone who has access to them.”
She scowled but didn’t argue.
“I can take my ‘girlfriend’ to any event, no questions asked.” I tilted my head. “What do you say? Want to fake-date your ex-boyfriend for a few weeks in the name of truth and justice?”
She scoffed. “No! Not happening.”
I sat back and regarded her with a smug smirk. “Okay, then how else are you going to get a chance to chat with Phoenix Sky at an album listening party?”
She sat taller, interest fully snagged.
“Because an acquaintance mentioned it to me and told me I should come. I mean, it’s not my thing, and I wasn’t planning on going. I guess I won’t if you’re not—”
“Okay.” She nibbled her lower lip and then groaned. “This is insane. What does one wear to a listening party… babe?”
I grinned, absolutely satisfied.