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The boys and I, we talk," I say, feeling the weight of his interference in my personal life. He's not even trying to hide it.
"Elliott, Marcus, and I will be having a fight pretty soon," I try my hardest to sound stern, but I can't shake the unease.
He squeezes me and grins. "You wouldn't hurt a fly." He's not wrong about that. I don't think I could hurt anything or anyone. Other than that mailbox, of course.
"What would your wife say about you being all up in my business?" I challenge him, raising an eyebrow.
"She knows," he responds confidently.
He pulls me into him to give me a hug, and I slowly wrap my arms around him before returning the hug with all the force I can muster up. Lane's laugh startles me, and he pulls away while patting me on the back. He's sympathetic as he informs me, "That was a good try."
I pull away, irritated but not wanting to show it. "Whatever. Bye."
Lane shouts, "Be safe!" at my back as I make my way toward Lincoln. Lincoln dips his head in acknowledgment of Lane's statement before placing a hand on my back and leading me out of the office.
Just as I secretly wish he would move his hand lower, it slides from the middle of my back to rest lower. The heat of his hand is heavy even through the layers I have on, sending shivers down my spine.
Before we exit the building and into the cold rain, Lincoln stops me and tells me to wait inside so that he can pull his truck up to the front. I swear to God, I just about melt at that gesture. He's thoughtful when he's not being closed off.
It takes less than five minutes for him to return with his truck, and I race out of the doors to climb into the passenger seat, feeling grateful for his chivalry. He's soaking wet, but I have remained mostly dry. I flash him a genuine smile before telling him, "Thanks." He acknowledges my thanks with a head nod.
He begins to drive, and I take the hint, settling into the comfortable silence. As Lincoln fiddles with the radio, he tries to start a conversation. "So, uh, what did you do last week?
I hum contentedly as the warmth from the car vents begins to envelop me. "I went to the bookstore," I eagerly confess.
His interest piques, his curiosity vivid in the tone of his voice. "Yeah? How was it?"
I stretch my hands out towards the vents, relishing the embrace of the cozy air. "Well, it was great until Leia decided to entertain us with a couple of rather explicit gestures. Unfortunately, the owner was an unintended audience, and to cut a long story short, we've been permanently banned from The Book Loft."
He briefly shifts his gaze from the road to meet my eyes. "Explicit gestures?"
A sudden blush creeps onto my cheeks. "Yes, the, um, kind of gestures that are... well, let's just say, not suited for public display."
I steal a glance at the side of his face, catching a subtle lift at the corner of his lips. "Poor Mrs. Rose. I'm amazed you guys didn't send her into cardiac arrest."
I sit up straighter, turning towards him with a growing smile. "You know Mrs. Rose?"
"Yeah, it's the finest bookstore in Boston." His knowledge impresses me. "I know! They have an incredible selection, and now I can't even set foot there," I lament.
"I'll take you," he declares, as if it's the most casual thing in the world, though to me, it's monumental.
My elation is tempered, but only briefly. "You can't just do that."
He dismisses my concerns with a wave of his hand. "I'll have a chat with Mrs. Rose. Everything will be sorted."
Who does he think he is, solving my problems with a snap of his fingers? Yet, if he can actually make this happen, I'd be over the moon.
"Are you serious?" I need confirmation.
He raises his hand, as if taking an oath. "Absolutely."
How can I possibly decline this incredible offer?
"Oh my god! Yes, please, I've been dying to go back," I gush.
This would be the most amazing thing ever if he followed through. I'm going to try not to get my hopes up too much.
"Soon," he says, looking directly into my eyes. "The first weekend I don't have a game, we can go."
