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First, I’d gotten evicted from my apartment, and now this. It was like I'd been cursed. I sat on the bed, feeling lost and overwhelmed. How was I going to make it? How would I pay my bills, support myself? I was living here now…but how was I ever going to be able to get my own place?
Not that I ever wanted to move out…
Flashes of last night’s hot dream sex filtered through my head. His whispered promises that I wasn’t sure he’d even said…
I hadn’t been totally cursed.
I stumbled out of the bedroom, barely registering the sound of Lincoln making coffee in the kitchen. As I approached him, he turned and saw the expression on my face. "What's wrong, baby?" he immediately asked, stopping what he was doing and rushing towards me.
I was fucking tired of falling apart in front of him, but it was my life at the moment.
I knew I had to tell him what happened, but I was embarrassed and humiliated. What if he didn't believe me? What if he thought I was lying? I couldn't bear the thought of losing his trust and respect.
"I was fired," I finally whispered, barely able to get the words out. "They think…I stole money."
Lincoln's face darkened with anger. "That's ridiculous," he snarled. "You would never do something like that."
Relief immediately flooded my insides as he came to my defense. It was like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, and I was finally able to breathe again. A part of me, despite everything, had believed he would think the worst of me. But his unwavering support and faith in me made me feel so grateful to have him in my life. It was like he was my own personal champion, always ready to stand up for me and protect me from the world.
“We should sue those fuckers. This has to be about something else. Maybe that shit head doctor is afraid you’re going to sue him for sexual harassment and he’s getting the jump on it before it happens,” Lincoln mused.
I frowned, thinking I hadn’t gotten that vibe. "I think I should just drop it," I murmured. “He said they wouldn’t press charges if I walked away quietly. I don’t have the money for a long lawsuit—or any lawsuit at all.”
Lincoln immediately opened his mouth to object.
“And I’m not taking any of your money to pay for a lawyer.”
He frowned at me. “Come here, dream girl.” Lincoln pulled me into a tight embrace, holding me as if he never wanted to let go. After a few minutes, he led me back into the kitchen, settling me down on a barstool.
“I know what this calls for,” he said confidently, striding towards the massive Sub-Zero fridge and grabbing a foil wrapped item. “One of Mrs. Bentley’s famous breakfast burritos.”
I wasn’t sure I was in the mood to eat, but I nodded and watched him carefully heat it up and arrange it on a plate with some sliced strawberries and pineapple. The smell of chorizo and eggs filled the room, and wouldn’t you know it—but my stomach actually growled. He placed it in front of me and then lifted me up before sitting down and depositing me on his lap, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips because he knew how ridiculous our arrangement was.
I didn’t give him a hard time about it, though. I needed to be close to him. I tried to take a bite, but my eyes filled with tears. It was crazy how he understood me. How he was so willing to be this steady, perfect force for me.
“You kill me when you cry,” he murmured, rubbing my back.
I sniffed.
“Sorry I keep doing it. I’m not usually this much of a mess.”
He tangled his hands in my hair and lifted my head up to look at him. “Hey, you’re not a mess. You’re just in a transition period. And I’m just lucky to be here with you.”
“Fuck,” I laughed, a hitched sob sneaking its way in. “You’re ridiculously perfect. I can’t think of anything I don’t like about you.”
His gaze flickered, a shadow passing over his beautiful face. He was probably thinking of what he’d told me about his brother.
But that had made me fall harder for him. It comforted me to know that he’d experienced heartbreak. It was the only way he could understand mine.
He cut into the burrito and fed me as he told stories about the pranks they’d pulled on the rookies that year. I found myself laughing at his jokes and funny anecdotes, forgetting about everything else for a moment. The tension in my body eased, replaced by a sense of wild connectedness that made it hard to breathe.
How had he become this necessary part of my life so soon?
It was terrifying.
By the end of breakfast, the weight on my shoulders was gone.
And somehow, I’d agreed to go with him to Boston for his away games…that afternoon.
