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Hello, stuffy rock.
Did he talk like that in bed? Not that I cared. I yanked on my ponytail, irritated I’d even thought about that man in the bedroom.
Eric yawned. “I gotta go to sleep. Good night, Lincoln. See you Sunday.” He kissed my cheek and disappeared like a whirlwind.
I stared after my brother, constantly amazed by him.
“You still haven’t finished that?” I pointed to the ice cream.
“I’m taking my time.”
I swallowed hard. With the ice cream, Lexie. Not you.
“Wanna tell me what spurred this ice cream emergency?” I sank onto the sofa, a safe distance from Lincoln and all that energy that seemed to beam from his orbit.
He picked up the carton and joined me. So much for distance.
He didn’t say anything for a long time, and I got that. If he’d have asked me about my bad day, I wouldn’t have wanted to talk about it either.
“He’s talented.”
Something that felt an awful lot like disappointment coursed through me. I’d only asked about his day—well, I didn’t really know what had prompted the question. It wasn’t my business and I didn’t care. At least I didn’t think I did.
Apparently, we were only good enough for ice cream, not opening up with words.
“Incredibly so.” I pulled my knees to my chest and hugged them. “He loves the art class. I’m pretty sure he’d go every day if we could.”
“Have you managed to fit in piano lessons?”
I snorted. “We’re barely fitting in eating and sleeping.” I picked at a thread on my sock. “Well, we did eat at a steakhouse. Crazy thing happened though.” I turned my head toward him. “You stood us up and your credit card was declined.”
He set down the ice cream and reached in his back pocket. Frantically, he thumbed through his wallet and pulled out a few bills. “Here. I didn’t intend for you to pay for it.”
I stared at the money with disgust. “And I didn’t mention it to be reimbursed. Besides, Beau paid for the meal.” And you ignored that you didn’t show up, even though Eric already forgave you.
He laid his wallet on the coffee table with the bills on top after I refused again to accept them.
They were a glaring insult. No, Eric and I couldn’t afford a meal at that restaurant. But we weren’t like everything else in Lincoln’s life he could just throw money at and fix it.
I snatched his wallet and stuffed the offensive money back inside.
His brows furrowed.
I held up the soft leather bi-fold. “This might be the most important thing to you. But that”—I pointed to the ice cream—“and that”—then the painting—“and spending time together. Those are the things that count most in our world. Don’t you dare come in this house and try to contaminate that.”
While his face remained like a stone, something sparked and ignited in his dark eyes. He pried the wallet from my fingers and tossed it back on the coffee table. And then the warmth of his hands replaced the leather against my palm.
His gaze always seared, but this time it burned with a fire the likes of which I’d never seen. He tightened his grip on my hand as if I were his anchor.
“Hi.”
His voice was rough like he was using it for the first time.
“Wh-what?”
We were in the middle of one of the most intense moments of my life and the word was a shock.
“You said I never greet you.”
