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Hey! I never said anyone had to pick sides this time. We didn’t break up. I just needed to figure out my life.
Finn
Good. I got us BFF bracelets to wear to my premiere.
Cage
I just vomited in my mouth.
Finn
Because you were looking at Mr. Wigglestein’s oversized testicles?
Cage
No. Because you are a suck-up.
My Uber is here. I’ll text you jackasses later.
Cage
Make things right. We need him to put a ring on it and seal the deal.
Georgia
Go get your man, Brinks!
I chuckled and tucked my phone into my purse before sliding into the Uber. The drive to the swanky hotel was quick, and I knew Lincoln would be out of practice by now, and I wanted to surprise him.
Otherwise, I’d be sitting out in the hallway, waiting for him until he returned.
“Thank you,” I said to the driver as I hopped out of the car after he pulled beside the curb. Butterflies fluttered in my belly.
I’d barely slept, barely eaten, and barely functioned during our time apart. I’d thought about what I wanted in life, and it always came back to him.
After I’d allowed myself some time to sulk about my dream job being an enormous joke, everything became clear.
I’m my own person. I didn’t need to fear being overshadowed by my boyfriend’s fame, because only I could allow that to happen.
And I wasn’t that girl.
Not now. Not ever.
I was confident in who I was, and I wouldn’t allow my insecurities to get in the way of my happiness.
And he’d given me the time that I needed.
But now that I was here, I had no patience. I wanted to be with him right now.
I hurried to the front desk, admiring how nice the place was. There were crystal chandeliers hanging above. Black velvet couches with white floral arrangements were placed around the impressive lobby.
My hotel, where I’d left all my stuff this morning, was a few blocks away and not nearly as decadent as this place.
“Hello,” a woman greeted me. Her black hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and her red lips were perfectly lined.
“Hi. I’m Mrs. Jack Sparrow, and I’m here to check in. My husband arrived a few days ago,” I said, remembering that he’d booked the room under Mr. and Mrs. Jack Sparrow.
She raised a brow. “Do you have an ID?”
