My mind wanders back to the day she asked if I’d ever loved someone I shouldn’t. A gloominess shadowed her that week, an anguish when she walked into work, and whenever I asked if everything was okay, she blew me off.
Her face falls, a twinge of sorrow tilting into her mood, and her lips press together in a tight grimace. “Just a guy I dated.”
“What did he do to screw you over?”
If this were anyone else, if past relationship problems were introduced, I’d throw my clothes on and duck out. The thing is, this isn’t anyone else. It’s Cassidy, and we talk about everything. The difference between her and anyone else is that I want to know every detail of her life.
Our conversations have been endless, but they’ve never deviated out of small talk. We’ve never ventured into our pasts, old relationships, or why we were both in trouble with the law. Hell, she doesn’t even know I’ve been in trouble with the law. But after last night, we need to drag our demons to the light and fight them together.
She bends her knees and then straightens them before releasing a harsh sigh. “He was a lying jerk who really messed with my head … with everything I thought was real.” She shuts her eyes, a pained expression crossing her features. “Before him, I was softer. I trusted people, and I was happier. I saw life differently. The old me, she was friends with everyone and never questioned allowing anyone in. Now, I have major trust problems.” She levels her gaze on me. “Prewarning.”
I gulp, a heaviness pinning my body to the bed. “Looks like I’d better prove myself then.”
Drawing her arm out from underneath the blanket, she reaches up and traces the line of my jaw with her finger, running it along my facial hair. “Just never lie to me, okay?” Her tone softens. “And if I ever confide in you, then that needs to stay between us.”
“You can always trust me.” I curl my fingers around her wrist and pull her hand to my lips, kissing it. “I’ll never betray you.”
“I was arrested.” That soft tone diverts into coolness with her confession.
It’s not much of a confession to me—no new insight into Cassidy. Since she was serving community service, I figured she’d been in trouble. Most likely nothing too serious, given she was sentenced to pick up trash on the side of the street and not time served.
I stay quiet while waiting to see if she’ll provide more.
I won’t push.
Won’t throw out question after question.
This is her truth to tell me on her time and in her own way.
Her gaze darts from one side of the room to the other, and when she speaks, my breathing grows a little easier.
She trusts me.
She wouldn’t be opening up like this if she didn’t.
“I dated a guy in college and let him borrow my car while his was in the shop. What I didn’t know was he sold drugs as a hobby and was using my car to do said drug dealing in. We got pulled over, he said the drugs in the car weren’t his, and I had to take the fall for it.” She holds up her hand. “They weren’t, FYI. I experimented with some uppers in my sorority house, yes, but they were never my thing. I like to be in control too much. Anyway, he walked free. I was arrested and charged with a misdemeanor.”
I grind my teeth, hoping she doesn’t feel my body tensing. “The guy, where is he now? That fucking bastard shouldn’t get away with what he did.”
She bites into her lip. “I’m not sure. I just want to move on from him. It happened, I did my time, and now, I’m only looking forward.”
“If you ever want to speak out, to turn him in, I’ll be by your side, you hear me?”
“Thank you.” She shivers in my arms. “And please don’t say anything to your brother, Cohen, anyone. You’re the first person I’ve shared the full story with. My brother is a cop, and he, along with others, have been up my ass to give them more information.”
“You can always trust me to keep your secrets.”
As much as I hate that she won’t turn the asshole in, I have to respect her decision. She knows what’s best for her, more than anyone.
“I know. That’s why I’m opening up to you.” She shuts her eyes, inhaling a ragged breath before loosening her muscles. Her tone turns playful as she asks, “How about those pancakes, huh? I know I said I’d make your favorite breakfast and all, but don’t judge if they’re burned. I’m not the best in the kitchen.”
“I’ll be your right-hand man. We’ll make them together.”
Sliding out of bed, I hold my hand out. Taking it, I drape her over my shoulder, hearing her laughter as I walk us to the kitchen. Somehow, before the pancake mix even leaves the box, she ends up spread out on the pub table with my mouth between her legs.
Playing with Cassidy will be fun.
The heartbreak that might come after? Not so much.
Chapter Fourteen
Cassidy
“What are you up to after this?” Lincoln asks, coming up behind me and wrapping his strong arms around my waist as I clock out in the employee room. “We can head to your place and have some fun.”
I squirm in his hold as he rains kisses along my neck. “We are in our place of employment, young man.” Laughing, I pull away from him.
He groans, “I know; I know.”
Two days have passed since the Halloween party. The next morning, after pancakes, we agreed to keep quiet about us hooking up. Witnessing everyone, myself included, in Georgia and Archer’s love life was a warning to keep private until we’re ready to talk about it. I don’t want to start my whatever this is with Lincoln alongside everyone asking questions and invading our privacy before we even have the opportunity to form a healthy relationship.
Another reason is fear.
What if things don’t work out with Lincoln?
What if we try something more serious than being friends and end up hating each other?
What if he isn’t as much into me as he said?
Quinton really messed with my head.
I’m scared to put everything out there, only for Lincoln to break things off later and make me look like an idiot.
I shove my wallet into my purse. “Jamie gave birth to baby Fox, so I’m stopping by the hospital to give her the adorable onesie I bought and to meet her. Want to tag along?”
He rubs his chin as if in deep thought. “Sure.”
“Don’t act too enthused now.”
Placing his hands together, he holds them to his heart and mocks my voice. “Oh my God, yes! I want to bring all the baby gifts with you.”
I click my tongue against the roof of my mouth and point at him. “That’s more like it, Callahan.”
“Your car or mine?”
“Mine.”
“Your place or mine later?”
“Mine, considering neither your brother nor Georgia can know about us yet.”
A flicker of disappointment flashes over his features when he says, “Okay.”
Lincoln remote-starts his car to warm it up, and before we get in, I grab the baby gift from my back seat. On our way to the hospital, we make a Starbucks pit stop, where he gives me a quick peck on the lips before handing over my iced caramel mocha.
I gotta give it to the man. He knows how to turn on the romance in and out of the bedroom. Well … the foreplay in the bedroom since we’ve yet to have sex. Every time I try, he says we’re not ready yet.
When we walk into the hospital waiting room, we find Georgia and Archer sitting next to each other. “Hey, guys!” I flick my wrist in a wave.
Georgia smiles, returns the wave, and then whispers into Archer’s ear. Archer nods in greeting, nearly all his attention on his girlfriend, while Lincoln and I take the chairs across from them.
With my insecurities creeping in, I wrinkle my nose while fighting back a frown. When someone whispers, I automatically assume it’s about me. Blame it on growing up, competing in stupid beauty pageants, and living in a sorority house full of competition and toxicity. You only whisper if you’re gossiping about s
omeone.
“I hate when people whisper around me,” I tell Lincoln, my throat tightening.
“Get used to it around those two.” Lincoln dips his head down, his mouth moving to my ear, and talks softly, so only I can hear him, “Plus, my hearing is impeccable. Georgia is betting him orgasms that something will happen between us.”
I lean into him, my insecurities morphing into eagerness. “Really?”
He grins. “Really.”
“Looks like Archer will owe her some orgasms.”
“Yeah … when you decide you want to tell them.”
Before I can ask how he truly feels about us waiting to share with our coworkers and friends that we’re oral buddies, Silas and Lola walk into the waiting room.
Silas gestures from Georgia to Archer. “When you two have a baby, you’d better hope it has your personality, Georgia.”
Georgia grabs Archer’s chin and playfully moves it from side to side. “Why? You know he has a shining personality.”
“Only for you, babe,” Archer says, winking at Georgia.
I look over at Lincoln with a smirk and smack his thigh. “I think our baby will have a combination of our personalities.”
“Your baby?” Silas asks. “What did I miss?”
Lincoln shakes his head and stretches out his legs.
“Hypothetical baby,” I say.
“There will be no babies,” Lincoln corrects, still shaking his head while fighting back a smile.
“I mean, first comes marriage,” I say before peering over to Georgia. “You’ll be such a good sister-in-law, Georgia.”
Georgia laughs, and we stop when Cohen walks into the waiting room. I’ve never seen a happier man.
“You ready to meet my daughter?”
Before standing, I look over at Lincoln and whisper, “In order for us to have babies, you have to have sex with me first.”
“We’ll have to work on that then, won’t we?” He winks.
Isabella Fox has to be the cutest baby I’ve ever seen with her peach fuzz and wrinkled forehead.
“Do you want kids?” I ask Lincoln as I run a finger over her soft cheek.
I gulp back the regret of asking him that question.
It’s something I’ve never thought twice about, but after finding out Kyle’s girlfriend can’t have babies, I’ve learned to be more sensitive. It’s a conversation I now tread lightly on. Sometimes, the answer is more complicated than yes or no. But this is Lincoln, and with Lincoln, I’ve tried to be as transparent as I can be. Plus, I’m super curious about his answer.
“I do,” Lincoln replies, leveling his strong gaze on me. “There was a time when I thought it wasn’t an option, but someday—in the future—I do. What about you?”
“I do … in the future.” I sigh and lower my gaze to Isabella. “For a while, I questioned myself. As a little girl, I dreamed about being a mother, but after everything fell apart with my parents, I told myself I’d been fed a lie. Marriage, love, kids, family—it all seemed like something that wouldn’t work, you know?”
His eyes don’t leave mine. “What made you change your mind?”
“I realized my parents shouldn’t be my only influence on my outlook on love. I witnessed my brothers and sister find love. Kyle with a woman who hated him. Maliki and Sierra, who did nothing but fight for years. And Rex with his best friend. There’s hope out there for me.” I stare at him, unblinking. “Like I told everyone, I think our baby will have a combination of our personalities. Hopefully, he or she will have my sense of humor.”
He chuckles, shaking his head.
I hold out my hand and fake inspect it. “I can’t wait to see the ring you propose with.”
“One from a candy machine, of course.”
I bump his shoulder with mine. “Where are we getting dinner after this?”
“Wherever you want.”
I perk up. “And then can I be your midnight snack?”
“I’ve created a monster out of you, haven’t I?”
“Sure have.”
I’m falling in love with this man, and the fear he isn’t falling as hard feels like a brick to my chest every time I think about it.
I officially have a roommate.
The townhouse is larger and nicer than the apartment I moved out of, and the rent is the same price since I’m only paying half with Grace. My brothers and Maliki helped me move all day today. Lincoln had offered, but I didn’t want him to call off work at the bar.
Grace struts into the living room with a sparkly gift bag in her hand. “To my new roommate.” Her strawberry-blond curls are in braids down each side of her head, and her pajamas are floral print.
I smile, grabbing it from her while sitting on the couch, and she plops down on the other side. “Aw, you didn’t have to get me anything.”
“You saved me from moving back in with my parents.” She gestures to the bag. “I owe you, like, fifty of those.”
I laugh, tugging at the tissue paper. “You couldn’t swing rent by yourself?”
They say it’s rude to ask about finances, but I’m genuinely curious. Grace teaches in an upscale private school, her father is a judge, and she never seems pressed for money. The few hundred I’m paying in rent doesn’t seem like it’d be enough to push her out of the townhome.
“It’s not about the money.” Grace rests her hands in her lap, all proper and ladylike. “I don’t like to live alone.”
“I get that.” I tried it, and it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows.
But then again, I also have a crazy ex who keeps popping up, adamant on scaring the shit out of me.
I tear the rest of the tissue paper out of the bag to find a box inside. Opening it, I find a mug with my name scrawled across it in pink glitter and a cartoon figure of my face.
“It was an inside thing with Georgia and me,” Grace explains. “Nearly all of our mugs had our names on them.”
I smile, holding up the mug. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
When I was expelled from college, I lost contact with most of my friends. Some of them because they looked down on me for being arrested. Others were too busy, which I understood. I’ve been invited to parties on campus by some of my former sorority sisters, but it seems too weird to go back there. I also don’t want to risk running into Quinton.
Grace stands. “You have the mug. Now, we make the roomie hot chocolate.”
“The roomie hot chocolate?”
“Yep.” She jerks her head toward the kitchen. “Come on. You’re going to love it.”
I follow her into the kitchen, and she opens a cabinet and pulls out a matching mug with her face and name. She sets it on the counter before gathering the ingredients, consisting of milk, hot chocolate, whipped cream vodka, and marshmallow vodka.
“Do you need any help?”
“I got it,” she replies, warming the milk.
We make small talk while she prepares the hot chocolate, pours it into our mugs, and hands one to me.
“Will this get me drunk?” I ask, moving the mug in circles, watching the chocolate swish in the cup.
I’m not a lightweight drinker, but the amount of vodka Grace poured in might have me hugging the porcelain throne if I get too crazy. It was so strange, seeing someone who appears so put together and proper pouring an exuberant amount of vodka in hot chocolate.
“Possibly.” She grins before holding her mug up in a cheers gesture. “To being roommates.”
I smile and bump my mug against hers. “To being roommates.” Taking a sip, I moan. “This is officially my favorite hot chocolate. I’m going to insist they start selling it at the bar.”
“Georgia tried, but Archer and Cohen vetoed the idea, calling it too complicated to make. They also didn’t think it’d be too popular in a sports bar, so we just drink it when we’re here.”
We walk to the living room and plop down on the couch.
“Roommate task number two,” Grace says. “We find a new show to bin
ge.”
We go through the options, finding one neither of us has seen, and promise not to watch an episode without the other. Grace—the shy and conservative Grace—is beaming with a personality I’ve never witnessed from her before.
As we’re in episode three, my phone beeps with a text.
Lincoln: You all moved in?
I grin while replying.
Me: All moved in.
“Uh-oh, who’s the guy?” Grace singsongs.
I drop my phone into my lap to look at her. “Huh?”
She gestures toward the phone. “The one you’re grinning at while texting.”
“Oh, it’s just Lincoln, asking if I got moved in okay.”
“You and he …?”
“We’re, uh …” I hesitate, running my fingers through the fur of the throw pillow next to me.
“Don’t worry.” Grace taps my hand playing with the pillow. “Anything we talk about stays between us. I promise.”
“We’re just”—I shrug—“hanging out … seeing where things go.”
She nods, playing with her braid. “Lincoln is a nice guy. You two are good for each other.”
The corners of my mouth turn up at her response, and a sense of relief hits me. “I think so too.”
“And just like when Archer was dating Georgia while she lived here, he’s welcome to hang out here whenever.”
My smile grows.
I peer at my phone still in my lap when another text comes through.
Lincoln: Want some company when I get off? You can give me a tour of your bedroom.
I grab the phone to answer.
Me: You won’t be exhausted?
Lincoln: Nah. I’ll leave a little early and let Archer clean up. He owes me that.
Me: I’ll be here.
Lincoln: See you in a bit.
Had Grace not said anything about him being welcome here, I would’ve questioned asking him to come over so late. I know Archer used to stay over with Georgia all the time because Grace would sometimes call him her second roommate. I think the more people there are around, the more Grace is happy. She seems to be a people person who doesn’t like being alone.
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