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I moved closer, invading her space. My forehead rested against hers. “Because you’re scared. Because the future is unknown. Because I don’t have a great track record in relationships, and from what you’ve told me, neither do you.”
“You’ll tire of me, Lincoln. You’re moving to New York. I live here.”
“You don’t even know where you’re going to be living in a few months when you publish your story.”
“Your story,” she said, raising a brow. “It’s better that we don’t cross the line. Things will get messy.”
“I think things are already messy, sweetheart. But I’ve never been a guy that was afraid of the long game. So, I’ll just have to show you that you’re wrong.” I stepped back and made my way down her path, walking backward as she watched me.
“I’m rarely wrong,” she said, and the corners of her lips turned up the slightest bit.
“We’ll see about that.”
I waited for her to step inside before getting back in my car and driving the short distance to my house.
When I got home, I checked my phone and saw an email from my college coach, Jack Hardin. I’d reached out about Lionel, and he’d gotten back to me. He said they were actually looking for a backup kicker because their first-string kicker had graduated this past year and they were down to one guy. I’d sent him the film that I’d taken of Lionel kicking a few field goals that day out on the field, and he was interested. He also said he knew of a few small programs on the lookout for a kicker, and he’d pass on the word about Lionel. They weren’t huge football programs, but they would allow him to play, and I was hoping they’d offer him something to help pay for his schooling. I sent him Lionel’s contact information and then sent Lionel a text, as well, to let him know that he should be looking out for a call.
It was well past midnight, and I didn’t expect a response at this hour, but the kid was full of surprises.
Lionel
I can’t believe this. I don’t know how to thank you, Lincoln.
Just keep training and be open to any calls that come your way. If you want to come train with me and Brinkley next week, we can work on building some muscle, which will make you stronger.
What the fuck was I doing?
I guess I remembered the time I was worried about playing in college, and I didn’t have a fucking clue how to go about it. Neither did my mom. I didn’t have a father to help guide me, and I knew that Lionel didn’t either. So, a part of me felt like I could offer that to him in a way. At least help him out where his own father had failed him.
Lionel
I would love to. I will do anything you say.
If only Brinkley Reynolds would say those same words to me.
Then the world would be a perfect place.
seventeen
Brinkley
Lincolnand I drove to my parents’ house after he arrived at my house. He was acting like nothing had gone down last night. Meanwhile, I hadn’t slept a wink. I’d tossed and turned with memories of the world’s best orgasm flooding my mind all night long.
Jesus.
The fact that the most erotic, sexy, amazing moment of my life had happened at my brother’s restaurant in the middle of the kitchen was beyond anything I could comprehend. I’d gone for some pie and left with a whole lot more than that.
Was I sweating now?
We pulled up in front of my parents’ house and he came around to help me out of the car.
“Your cheeks are pretty flushed. Want to tell me what you’re thinking about?” he said with a cocky smirk.
“What? I’m not flushed. It’s hot outside.” I couldn’t look at him.
“It’s seventy-five degrees tonight. Actually, it’s pretty cool with the breeze. I think you’re thinking about that kiss last night.”
“Of course, you do. Because you’re arrogant and cocky and—” I threw my hands in the air because I was flustered. He was right. That kiss was all I could think about.
