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Surprise, surprise. It seems like I can't escape embarrassment, no matter what.
I really don't want to be here right now. The idea of seeing Lincoln is making me uncomfortable, and being surrounded by a bunch of random, probably drunk people isn't helping matters.
Leia grabs my arm, snapping me back to the moment and preventing me from falling into a panic. She guides me through the front door, and we come to a stop to take in our surroundings.
It's not exactly the nicest place. The air feels a bit dirty and damp, which leaves me wondering how that's even possible.
Leia turns to me with a wide grin and says, "This is so fun. Come with me while I go get a drink."
"Okay," I reply, though my enthusiasm is clearly lacking. She rolls her eyes at my lackluster response and latches her hand onto mine. I'm not sure why she's so amped up, but I'm definitely feeling a bit disoriented. She's practically sprinting toward the kitchen, dragging my less-than-enthusiastic body behind her. With one more forceful tug, my arm might pop out of its socket thanks to my overexcited best friend.
I have to raise my voice to be heard over the blaring music. "Leia, slow down. What's the rush for?"
She comes to an abrupt stop, causing me to collide into her back. If I didn't know better, I'd think she was on some sort of substance, but I'm sure that's not the case.
She pivots and wraps her arms around me, and now we're hugging in the middle of the noisy kitchen. There's no way this isn't drawing attention to us, and I hate it.
Leia leans in and whispers, "You'll forgive me later." There's a gleam in her eyes and a mischievous smile on her face.
Forgive her for what?
Leia keeps spinning us around, and I'm still trying to process everything that has happened since we arrived. I don't know a single person at this party, and I wish Leia would slow down so I can get my bearings. All this twirling and pulling is making me feel queasy.
Right now, I'm mad at her. This isn't how things should be going.
Oh my god. She just pushed me. That brat.
I stagger to the side, stumbling into a solid body. The person who catches me grips my upper arms, preventing me from falling. I glance up and lock eyes with the man who's been the source of my recent embarrassment.
My cheeks flush, and I manage a small smile. I glance around, trying to take in my surroundings and notice that he's in a small circle talking with a couple of other guys, all of them looking pretty imposing. I'd wager they're athletes.
I look back at Lincoln and quickly take him in. He looks great in a pair of jeans and a snug black shirt. His muscles are on full display, his thighs looking massive. It's a struggle to tear my gaze away.
I tear my gaze away, forcing myself to make eye contact with him before I manage to eke out a simple "Hey."
He sweeps his alluring gaze over me, and when it finally settles back on my eyes, he clips out a casual "hey." It's not the most thrilling start to our interaction, but it's got to be ranked at number one when I compare it to our previous exchanges. Easily the best one yet.
Just as I start feeling a bit more at ease, a chill runs down my spine as I hear one of the guys call out to us. "Who do you have there, Golden? I haven't seen her around." Lincoln's grip on my arms tightens faintly, and I can't help but wonder what's going on.
I try not to be too unkind or judge unfairly, but the guy who's addressing us looks like his face has been on the receiving end of one too many blows from a heavy object. His creepy words certainly match his unsettling appearance. I can't help but think that the inside matches the outside, and it's rather unpleasant. Oh no, that was really mean of me.
A loud whistle pierces the air, followed by a lewd comment from one of the other guys occupying the circle. "Send her my way when you're done." The masculine laughter that fills the room starts to blend together as I try to focus on Lincoln.
He leans in close, his voice low as he tells me, "Fucking ignore those shitheads."
In response, I reach out and grip the bottom of his shirt, seeking some semblance of comfort. "Are they on your team?"
His immediate response is a scowl and a vehement "fuck no.”
Lincoln peels his eyes away from me, glancing around at the guys who had been surrounding him. He dips his head at them, snarling, "Watch your fucking mouths."
I watch as shock fills multiple sets of eyes, swiftly transforming into confusion etched on their faces. I can only imagine what's running through their minds. They must be wondering why Lincoln is being so protective of a random girl.
The group of guys grumbles about how they were just joking, trying to persuade him to stay, but he completely disregards their pleas, turning his attention back to me. Lincoln appears visibly annoyed, and I'm left to wonder if it's because of me or the inappropriate comments.
He takes a deep breath, and to my surprise, he grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers. I can't help but think, what the hell is happening right now? My heart races with uncertainty.
Oh my god.
