Chapter 7 Lincoln #3
“Hey, Lincoln, did you hear me?”
I shook my head and looked into her brown eyes etched with annoyance.
“I said I need the lights to work. I have to do reels, posts, and all of that.”
I nodded. I needed to piece together the puzzle that was our relationship so I wouldn’t lose her.
I’d spent most of the day napping on the couch while she worked at the kitchen counter. I woke to her fumbling with her belongings next to the door, sending me a not-so-subtle message: I’m on my way out, Linc.
I settled on the arm of my recliner, watching her move about her things.
It was a large apartment for one person, and even for two, but the openness of the main space shrank every time I met the coldness of Nina’s eyes.
She bent over the suitcase, picking different blouses only to pack them again.
After each item, she’d look back to check I hadn’t moved.
“Nina, just unpack. You’re not going back to that apartment,” I stated, voice low but sharp.
She raised an eyebrow, tugging a flowery blouse from the suitcase only to stuff it right back in. “Hmm … Lincoln, we can agree to disagree,” she said, smirking.
She rummaged through her gym bag until she found a clear ziplock stuffed with plastic inhalers—blue, red, white—some still in foil.
A half-open box rattled with tiny plastic bullets of clear liquid.
Thin tubing tangled around a clear mask that belonged in a hospital, not her bag.
There were flat silver packs of … something and a narrow stick marked with numbers.
I didn’t know what half of it was, but my gut tightened knowing she needed all of it.
This wasn’t optional. She wouldn’t just crash here for a few days, then go back to her ceiling stains and dusty vents.
I’d just been too stupid to see it before.
Who knew you needed to lose your memory to gain some clarity?
As I got closer to her, her shoulders squared and her breathing sped up. Instead of touching her back the way I wanted to, I reached past her to pick up one of the little tubes and hold it to the light.
“Will you explain to me what all of this is?” I asked, twirling the vial in my fingers.
“You don’t need to know,” she stated, taking the ampoule out of my hand and tucking it back in the pouch.
She didn’t trust I wouldn’t break it. Maybe I’d broken something of hers once.
“Babe,” I muttered, knowing I was about to piss her off. “You don’t have a job now …. Am I helping you pay for any of this? Could I?”
She scoffed and stepped away after zipping the bag. Great job, Lincoln.
“I think I’m going to take a shower,” I said. “Will you wait to cook so I can help you with dinner?”
Her smile broke across her face—not soft, not tender but sharp enough to cut through me. Even with its edginess, goosebumps rose up my arm under her gaze.
“Oh, that’s a great idea! Let me get the bathroom ready, make sure you have what you need, something to cover your bandage …”
“Babe, shouldn’t you give me a hand? You know, in case I get dizzy?” I pasted on my signature smirk, showcasing my dimples. It was my best fucking feature. She responded with a smirk of her own, calculating, hip cocked on one side.
“Oh, I’m sorry, babe.” That tone again. I knew something was coming. “I won’t help you in the shower, that’s a hard line.”
“Why not?” I asked. “I’ve got nothing you haven’t seen before, right?” I widened my grin.
“Babe.” She pressed her lips into a trembling line, struggling to keep them straight. “We’re celibate. Sex is really important to both of us, so we’ve actually never done it.”
What the fuck? Celibate? My brain tripped over the word the way you’d hit pothole in the middle of the road. I searched her face for a tell, a twitch, the corner of her mouth quirking. This had to be a joke.
“You’re telling me we’re virgins?” My voice came out high-pitched, squeaky. Awful.
“I mean”—Nina rolled her eyes—“since we’re high-school sweethearts and all. We’re saving ourselves, you know? You thought it was romantic.”
Saving ourselves—for what? For marriage?
Fuck me. The idea slid under my ribs, sharp and intriguing, in the most unusual way.
Saliva pools under my tongue as I stare at her shape, admiring her slender neck, ample breasts, wide hips.
My body sure as hell didn’t feel like being celibate with her around.
“So, yeah,” Nina added, “let me make sure you have everything you need because once that door closes, you’re on your own, babe.”
My mouth opened, but I had no idea what to say. She swayed her hips as she went to my room. With each step, she drew languid figure eights, a ripple traveling up her thighs when her heels met the wooden floor. I swallowed, unable to look away.
I needed to talk to her about this. Maybe I’d been okay whenever we discussed it, but I wasn’t now.
I scrubbed myself quickly, mindful of not getting the bandage wet.
When I opened the shower door and stepped onto the bathmat, I looked around, only to find there wasn’t a towel in the bathroom.
Standing there, naked and dripping, I realized: Nina Reyes was fucking with me.