Chapter 20
It’s almost time to clock out. For hours after I noticed Lincoln feeling better, I’ve been trying to flirt with him, and he barely flirts back. He seems so disinterested, it’s like nothing between us ever happened, and it’s annoying the hell out of me.
Tom walks by our station after talking with the other coders, slipping his coat off the chair.
“See you two tomorrow,” he says, clapping Lincoln lightly on the back.
Lincoln adjusts a few files on the tablet. Tom starts talking to him about the planning they have to finalize for Friday, something about the rollout schedule and the remaining synchronization tests.
“My wife wants me to actually show up to my son’s soccer practice tonight,” Tom adds with a laugh. “I haven't been to a soccer practice in… 3 weeks now.”
Lincoln chuckles. “Damn Tom.”
“Yeah I know. The schedule has been crazy.”
“I know I probably sound like a hypocrite but you should make that a priority. Or at least try to.”
“You're right. You do sound like a hypocrite.”
Tom and I laugh.
“Well shit,” Lincoln smiles. “I'm just saying… take it from someone who barely got to spend time with his family, it matters. Kids remember things like that. They remember you not being there.”
Tom sighs loudly. “Yeah, yeah, I know. That's why I'm going. Anyway, see you tomorrow. Later Sarah.”
“Bye, Tom,” I tell him as he heads out. He waves at me, still grumbling about being late.
Looking over at Lincoln, I give him a nudge. “You sound like you're speaking from experience.”
“A little,” he murmurs.
“You never want to talk about your family.”
“Because there's nothing to talk about. My father was barely there. Worked all the time and when he wasn't working he was drunk and passed out. Then he retired and was just passed out all the time or gone.”
This is the most that Lincoln has ever told me concerning his family. He doesn't seem to be very close with them at all. Every time I'd ask he would change the subject or just say he didn't want to talk about it.
“Do you still talk to your dad now?”
“Nope.”
But he doesn't give me any other information, I already know that he's locked back down.
Fabian, our Routing Systems Analyst doubling as CEO secretary, pulls on his winter jacket and tugs his hat over his ears as he cuts right in front of us, trying to exit first.
“Hey, Lincoln!” There is Tom again.
“You’re gonna be late Tom,” Lincoln laughs.
“I know, I know, but before I forget, I wanted to know if you looked over that last network log from Auralis. I got it earlier. Something about the loopback delay still being too sensitive when it’s mapping a cluttered environment. Nothing big.”
Lincoln nods. “Yeah, I tweaked it. I’ll send the patch file tonight.”
Tom points at him. “Perfect. Because if that loopback glitch carries into the units going out next month, legal isn’t gonna be happy.”
I fold my arms and wait, rolling my eyes as they keep talking.
Tom adjusts his gloves while talking to Lincoln. “... and dear old Tobias said we might have to reroute some of the predictive-risk data streams for next quarter. Something about Haffentrust Global getting nervous about the cross-market AI volatility.”
Lincoln nudges his bag higher on his shoulder. “They always get nervous before a major release.”
“No, I mean actually nervous,” Tom clarifies, lowering his voice a little. “Their senior risk manager, the one who retired like over a decade ago? They apparently hauled him out of whatever beach he was wasting away on. Brought him back to audit their behavior layer. So yeah, something’s going on.”
Lincoln’s eyebrows lift at that. “That guy? Damn. For them to bring him back, something must be happening on their side.”
Tom nods as he zips his jacket. “Mmm exactly. So Tobias wants us to prep contingency routes for the Auralis behavioral data, in case Haffentrust pushes for shared compliance modeling—”
I clear my throat a little. “Okay, we really have to go. You have a family. And I’m exhausted. Far as I know we’re not getting paid overtime past what we agreed to work.”
“All right, all right, I’ll see you guys later,” Tom says, smiling.
Lincoln and I walk toward the elevator, and I feel this tight, prickly tension building under my skin. Something is off. Has been all day.
“So what’s going on?” I ask him.
“Nothing new. Everyone’s asshole is puckering because the economic world is shaking in their boots because of the scale of this innovation.
Investors are panicking. Competitors are going to start getting aggressive.
There’s always a sense of destabilization that goes on whenever someone becomes the next tech missionary. ”
“Okay… I meant with you.”
“Oh… nothing.”
I smile at him. “You have dark circles over your eyes.”
“Cuz I’m tired as shit.”
“You also need to eat something. You didn’t eat nearly enough today,” I tell him.
“Yeah, I know.”
I reach my pinky over and hook it with his right hand pinky, offering him a small, soft smile. He looks down at me, gives me this tight, almost obligatory smile… then looks straight ahead at the elevator numbers like I’m not even there.
“Why are you so stiff?”
“No reason. I’m exhausted,” he says, gently unhooking his finger from mine so he can drag both hands over his face. He looks worn. Or… no. He looks detached. That was an excuse to get my hand off him.
I’m not stupid.
He folds his arms.
“Wow, if you didn’t want to hold my hand all you had to do was say so,” I snip.
“You realize there’s a camera in the elevator, right?”
“Of course I know there’s a camera in the elevator. But no one ever checks it. We’ve kissed in here before.”
“What are you talking about?” he asks, brows pulling together.
“Well your back was turned to it and I made sure. I mean it was pretty obvious what we were doing but you can’t actually see it.”
“You mean that? That was barely anything. We weren’t really kissing.”
“No, but we did back up on Level B,” I grin at him.
“That day lives rent free in your head,” he smirks.
“Yeah because it was the first time we ever kissed. Seems like forever ago,” I smile.
He barely responds. He’s miles away again. Something is on his damn mind.
We step out into the garage. My rental car is parked beside his since we took our own cars today. I turn to him.
“Can you help me by driving me to the rental place to drop off this car and get mine back?” I ask casually.
“Why is your car always in the shop? Why is it at the rental place?” he asks.
“Because I prefer having a rental car since I have the money for it, and the mechanic shop is literally right next door to the rental.”
He looks… reluctant. Like even that is too much to ask.
“Where do you have to be?” I press.
“I’m tired and I don’t really want to be driving too long,” he says.
“It’s not going to be long,” I counter. “And I actually need help with the groceries and stuff. You used to help me with that.”
“I’ll help you with dropping you off at the rental place but I can’t go grocery shopping with you,” Lincoln says.
My heart plummets to my damn toes. He’s being weird as fuck.
Cold.
Distant and…
I dunno. Polite.
Almost stranger-like.
He’s clearly fucking his ex-wife. And it bothers me because he’s acting like he and I barely know each other now.
I hate that woman with a passion.
“You said that I could always ask you for help and that you would always be there and now you’re just flaking on me when I literally asked you for help. What happened to depending on each other?
“When you needed me to help you out or help care for you when you were sick and bring you food and also make sure that it was healthy food and when I got your medicine, when I bathed you, when I sucked you off, all of that was convenient for you. But now when I ask you for help it’s a big deal?
All of that talk just for you to dump me like garbage.
Guess you’re not a man of your word after all. ”
I roll my eyes and start to get into the car.
Just like clockwork, he stops me, leaning on my door, looking sincerely at me.
“I’m sorry, Sarah. Look, I’ll help you with the groceries after we get the rental, okay? I am legitimately tired though, so I really don’t want to be on the road driving when I’m like this.”
“I know that, but we’ve napped in the car and stuff too.”
“I just want to go home. I’m kind of burned out to be honest.”
“Yeah because you chose not to have sex with me. Remember how good that made you feel?”
He doesn’t answer. Just smiles at me faintly and gets into his car. That little smile irritates me more than silence.
We get to the rental place, I pick up my car, and then we head to the supermarket. He follows behind me.
We park side by side. Lincoln steps out and stretches.
God, I love when he stretches like that.
The way his shirt rides up, the way his muscles flex…
his bulge right there. It’s crazy how much I miss him.
He’s slipping through my fingers, and I thought it was just a temporary thing, a phase, but clearly with that bitch living with him, he feels like he has sex on tap.
But I still have a bit of hope. Because if he was getting all the sex he wanted, he wouldn’t be walking into work looking so tortured. So maybe, not definitely, but maybe there’s still hope.
Walking into the supermarket, I link my arm with his. Warm and comfortable at his side, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And people notice us. Older couples smile at us, admiring how good we look together.
We move through the store like we always used to. He pushes the cart, and I sit inside it after taking off my jacket, leaning back while he rolls me down the aisles. For a second it’s easy, comfortable, like nothing’s changed between us.
After we checkout, he drives behind me all the way to my apartment. Then he gets out and helps me carry the groceries upstairs, still quiet, but polite. Distant.
Once everything is unpacked, Lincoln starts putting on his jacket.
Not yet.
Taking his hand, I pull him toward me and throw myself up against him, wrapping my arms around his neck as I kiss him. He starts to give in, his hands sliding to hold me the way they used to, until suddenly he lets go, releasing his hold so my weight drops me back onto my feet.
“Sarah… ” he starts, like he’s trying to resist.
“I miss you a lot. And I know you miss this. And don’t you dare fight me because we both know you need this,” I tell him as I drop to my knees, unbutton his pants, whip out his dick, and take him into my mouth.
He hisses, and the slice of his penis feels thicker against my tongue as it begins to grow. I taste the salt of his precum. Moving my head faster, I can’t help but smile around him, loving the feel of his cock in my mouth as the hardness builds.
Harder.
And harder.
Swollen and rigid until it starts choking me each time I pull my head forward to swallow all of it.