Chapter 9 #3
I took it, even though she didn’t truly want to give it, but I needed it. I caressed her knuckles with my thumb, and still, she closed her eyes. That’s not how I wanted things between us, so I let go of her.
I’d recognized that overpowering anger in my bones. This was who I had been. As I pushed the puzzle pieces together, a drumline thundered in my temples, when I saw the truth staring right at me: Nina knew my rage as much as I did.
The harsh clink of ceramic pulled my focus back to Natasha.
She’d laid everything out on a tray, determined to move past my outburst. Natasha needed to leave, so I pointed at the L-shaped part of the kitchen counter rather than following her to the coffee table.
I pulled one stool out for Nina and took the one next to her, leaving Natasha no other option than to stand across from us.
When I looked at the tray, I realized this viper deserved more than awkwardness.
“Hey.” Whatever her game was, I’d end it. “Why are there only two coffees?” I gestured at the tray.
Her eyes narrowed. “Well … you and me.”
I swallowed hard, jaw jutting at the audacity.
Nina cut in. “I can make myself—”
“No need.”
Pressure rose in my throat again. I anchored myself with the feeling of Nina’s forearm against mine and the disarray my touch left on her skin.
The way Natasha had moved around my house.
I had to be imagining this. Needing to know more was the only reason I was entertaining this charade.
Please let it just be my brain overworking to fill the blanks in front of me.
I leaned into Nina, just enough for her to feel my closeness. “I’d ask her to make you one, but I’d rather she leaves quickly.”
“I made it the way you like it,” Natasha snapped. “Black, two sugars.”
Another pitiful attempt at a claim. Too bad for her, I knew exactly how I took my coffee. “Natasha, right?”
She huffed, incredulous, pulse ticking at her temple.
“It’s too hot. I only drink it room temperature.”
Nina’s lips shook with amusement. She may have been fucking with me, but this wasn’t about coffee. This was Nina and me against this snake.
Natasha’s brows pinched, and a glint of desperation turned her skin red. She schooled it quickly, but the damage had been done.
My hand slid to the back of Nina’s neck, and my pulse hiked, worried she’d slap my hand away, but I was glad when she didn’t. She shot her eyes to Natasha, cool and steady, warning me to watch her. Natasha didn’t matter, though, Nina mattered, and I’d show them both.
I lifted the mug meant for me and held it to Nina’s lips. Our eyes met for the briefest moment; she’d reject me, I just knew.
Instead, she took a sip, her umber eyes on mine. I tipped the mug again, offering Nina another mouthful. Her throat worked, mesmerizing me, and I smiled. Then I turned it and drank from where her lip balm had left a faint sheen on the rim.
Natasha’s eyes widened so much her bangs hid her eyebrows. I set the mug down, licking the faint trace of her lip balm off my mouth, making the proud point that Nina was mine.
Natasha leaned forward as if she’d just remembered she had claws. “He’s a sweet one, isn’t he?” she cooed, tilting her head at Nina. “He was even sweeter before he was … confused.”
Nina didn’t flinch, didn’t even blink. Eyes locked on Natasha. Her silence loud enough to drown me. My fingers flexed against the counter, hunting for something to hold on to.
Indifference landed harder than any insult, and Natasha shifted—low, sultry, every syllable sharpened and aimed for the jugular.
“You know, Lincoln, that outburst earlier isn’t like you,” she purred, letting my name linger on her lips.
“You must be feeling tense. I should grab that body oil you love.” She smiled seductively.
“Red bottle with pink letters in your bathroom cabinet, top shelf?”
I’d seen that bottle. She described it to summon a memory, but what came through was the urge to scrub my skin raw.
“I could …” She paused, flicking her hair, and bile rose up my throat the second her perfume hit my nostrils. It smelled—familiar.
My chest knotted. I wanted to rip the words out of Natasha’s mouth and shove them back down her throat. My hand shook on Nina’s neck. I let myself feel the boiling anger in my throat again.
“Natasha,” I hissed. “I’m with Nina. Back the fuck off.
” My voice infused her name with an apology, searching her face for some sign—for anything—I might be reading this wrong.
Nina’s eyes didn’t even graze me before settling back on Natasha.
It was damning, the truth I’d feared clawing out from my insides.
I mouthed her name, trying to catch her eyes. Confusion. My shame and guilt in equal measure fighting for control.
Natasha laughed. “We can play it your way for now, Lincoln.” Her tongue peeked out, licking her lips. “Just wait ’til you remember what a good team we made for the Infinity Weddings pitch.” Natasha went on, chuckling. “She was a total disaster. You won’t want her when you remember.”
That did it for Nina. She edged away from me half an inch, but it might as well have been a mile.
The world swallowed me.
I’d been with Natasha. Nothing but cheating could explain it. Nothing but betrayal.
Natasha got off on it. While I couldn’t fucking breathe.
The urge to snap tore through me, but Nina’s stillness pressed harder than any anger.
I couldn’t give Nina more reasons to leave me.
“Get out,” I grabbed Natasha’s arm and led her back to the entrance.
When she resisted, her fingers shooting out to touch me, every muscle coiled to force her out. “Now!”
I slammed the door behind her, and even through the wood, I heard her yell, “We’ll talk soon enough, Lincoln.”
I leaned on the door, forehead against the cool material, but everything whirled around me.
The ringing in my ears amplified, pressure blooming sharp and sudden behind my eyes.
I tried for a breath, but the air wasn’t right.
Dizzy. I was too goddamn dizzy. My head lolled just as my knees bent without permission.
Nina was there before I could fall, one hand steadying my chest, the other cool against my temple. “Easy,” she said, voice low, even. “It’s all good.”
I wanted to tell her I didn’t deserve her gentleness or touch. That if I’d done what I thought, nothing was “good,” but my jaw locked tight. Nina made sense now: she’d been leaving clues for me to figure it out all week long.
My head fell between my legs, too heavy for me to hold upright.
My throat cinched tight, fighting to wring a sob out of me, but no sound came.
My hands shook against my temples as Nina’s palm warmed the nape of my neck.
As much as her touch anchored me, her tenderness gutted me in equal measure.
Why would I fuck up something that felt so right?
Pushing through the shame and regret, I whispered in a shattered voice. “I cheated, right?” It came out as a question, hoping against hope I was wrong.
Nina lifted my face so I’d meet her eyes. “What if you did?”
That caught me off guard, and treacherous hope bloomed. “I don’t feel like I would. Ever.”
“You didn’t, Linc.” She squeezed the back of my neck, and just as I was about to breathe in relief, she added, “You definitely have something going on with her, don’t get me wrong, but you didn’t cheat on me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m not going to lie to you, so think about it. Think of that first night in the hospital.”
And I did. I woke up with a killer headache, blood dripping down my neck, and the sight of dark-brown eyes and the blackest hair framing the face of the woman whose name I’d learned was Nina.
When they finally brought her to me …. It was all me. I assumed we were together based on the warmth in my chest, the sorrow in her eyes. We weren’t together. I swallowed, pressure building behind my eyes. Nina had never been mine.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Nina shrugged, her hand still on my neck, fingertips brushing my hair. “Doctors said it’d be better not to.”
This wasn’t one of her pranks, it was written all over her face. The truth settled, wrapping around my heart, constricting and collapsing it.
“If I’m not yours …, whose am I, Nina?” My voice cracked on the words, as I shook my head. “That woman,” I bit out, “couldn’t care less about me. Vinny hasn’t bothered to visit. I—”
I forced myself to talk through what I’d lost, through what I never had.
“I’ve only ever felt like yours.”
Nina’s hand stayed where it was—patient, unbearable in its gentleness for some time. Until she withdrew it and moved away from me.
Before she stepped out of my sight, I called, “Hey, Nina.” I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself. “We weren’t together before, but maybe we could be now.”
A shadow crossed her features, the answer clear as day. No.
“That’s a conversation for another day.”
“Nina, I know you think I don’t remember, so I can’t know you, and whatever I feel is me being delusional …. But in my mind, in my bones, you’re mine and I’m yours.” I exhaled. “I’m going to woo you with everything I’ve got.”
Nina stared at me with an enigmatic gaze. “Like you said, Linc. You do you, I’ll do me.”
With that, she left me with memories I didn’t have, taking something from me.
I couldn’t do anything about that now. It’d take time.
I’d show her, though. I’d show her how good it could be if she gave us a chance—that if I was hers and she was mine, no one would ever hurt her.
I’d start with Natasha and that Infinity Weddings pitch.