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“What do you mean that kind of guy?” Lincoln scowls for a split second and then he takes a deep breath and rolls his eyes. “You mean a guy with needs? Uh, maybe you should learn a thing or two, Hana.” He snorts and shoves his hands in his pockets. “All guys have needs. If you’re not screwing a guy, someone else is.”
I don’t know why it happens, but hot tears threaten to spill over the corners of my eyes. I blink them back, clenching my fists and telling myself it’s just anger. I’m pissed, that’s all. I’m not letting his words get to me. I am not thinking about Ash and how since we aren’t together, someone else is probably with him.
“Just leave.”
Lincoln shakes his head. “I’m not going anywhere, Hana. Look, I really like you and we get along great. Why can’t we just forget this night and start over?” He steps forward, holding out his hand fo
r me to take.
I shake my head and take a step backward. “Not happening,” I say, crossing my arms. “I don’t want to start over with someone like you. Just leave, okay?”
Headlights appear behind me as someone turns into the driveway. They light up Lincoln’s features just as his face changes from compassionate and pleading to malicious and angry. “You need to drop the innocent little princess act, Hana. It was cute at first, but come on. If you’re not putting out, then someone else is. I’m telling you I’d like for that to be you. So chill out and let’s go back to the party.”
I’d fought hard to keep those tears at bay, but now they can’t be held back anymore. The gaping hole of heartache in my chest has been ripped open. I shake my head. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Lincoln curses and grabs my arm, tugging me toward the party. “You need more alcohol so you’ll calm down and realize you’re being a baby here.”
I twist but he only grips tighter. “Let go of me!”
Tires screech to a stop on the gravel behind us. A door opens and slams closed. “What the hell is going on?”
Of course it would be him. Here to watch me humiliate myself with a loser who is about twenty steps below my ex-boyfriend on the totem pole of quality men. Lincoln squints toward the bright headlights of Ash’s truck, probably not knowing who he is at first. But I do; I’d know his voice anywhere.
Ash appears next to me, his arm in a sling and fire in his gaze as he levels it at Lincoln. “Let her go.”
Lincoln drops my arm and his lips twist into a scowl. “What’s a Hollywood guy like you doing at a party like this? Don’t you have motocross bunnies to be banging right now?”
I stare at the vein in Ash’s forehead, watch a muscle in his jaw twitch. He can’t exactly fight Lincoln, not with a broken arm. One look at Lincoln says he’s thinking the same thing. “What are you going to do?” he says with a snort. “Kick my ass and lose your sponsorship? That’ll go over well with Team Yamaha.”
Ash turns to me. “Are you okay?”
I nod. A tear rolls down my cheek.
He turns back toward Lincoln. “I don’t give a damn about my sponsorship,” he says through his teeth. “And you’re not worth the effort.”
A sneer creeps across Lincoln’s features, and in the glow of Ash’s truck lights when I see his bloodshot eyes glaring at Ash, I remember just how drunk he really is. He may not even remember any of this in the morning.
“You know who’s not worth the effort? Lincoln spats. “This virgin Mary over here.”
In a flash, Ash rears back his left fist and slams it straight into Lincoln’s jaw. His head flies back, and he stumbles over the gravel, then trips over his own feet and falls to the ground with a slew of curses.
Ash’s chest heaves and then he touches my arm, his once fierce fist now a comforting touch. “You want a ride home?”
No, I think. But I can’t stay here, not after all of this drama. Not after Ash risked getting arrested for assault all because of me. I nod and he leads me to the passenger side of his silver rental truck, opening the door for me just like the gentleman he’s always been.
Chapter 18
“You sure you’re okay?” Ash asks after five minutes of silent driving in the direction of home.
“Yeah.” I look out my window, watching the moon cast shadows on the miles and miles of open fields.
“You need anything?”
“A ride home is more than enough, thanks.”
The silence spreads back out, a thick blanket of awkwardness that triggers so many old memories of Ash and me. When I can’t stand it anymore, I talk just to break the silence. “Why did you even go to the party?”
His broken arm shrugs. “I told you I might stop by. I had nothing better to do.”
