Chapter Twenty-Three
“You know what your mom said when I told her about my pitching career?” Linc asked as we rode the elevator up to his sixth-floor apartment.
I hadn’t realized he talked to her much, especially about that. “What?”
“The same water that softens potatoes boils eggs. It’s all about what you’re made of, not your circumstances.”
I smiled—I heard that one more than once growing up.
“And I thought, ah, it all makes sense.” The elevator doors opened with a bing and Linc put his hand on the small of my back and guided me into the hallway. My pulse quickened, and despite knowing better, I couldn’t help but want to live in the moment.
The hallway was completely quiet and empty of people—guess that was what happened when most of the world was asleep. Which reminded me that accepting an invitation to come over during “booty call zone” hours was also against my rules.
I could always just chat and do the crossword puzzle and then say good-bye, but it was important to be prepared if the opportunity arose.
Part of me knew the opportunity would arise if I put myself out there even a little bit. This is either the stupidest idea I’ve ever had or the best.
I hadn’t felt like such a rebel since Jackson and I snuck into a concert at a twenty-one and up club with fake IDs. There’d been a dopamine rush then, and there was definitely one now.
Linc unlocked the door to his apartment and gestured me inside. The place was a bit smaller than mine but had clearly been renovated recently, with hardwood floors and granite countertops. A lonely couch faced a large flat screen TV, but other than that, his walls were bare. Even his place showcased a certain lack of committing. Guys who didn’t settle in and decorate—even if it was guy decorating—showed a nomadic tendency. Since he’d only been back in Atlanta for a little while, I supposed that earned him another few weeks, but if he didn’t decorate soon…
Well, one more red flag to add to the list.
But we’re ignoring those tonight, remember… I’m not closed-minded. I’m fun. I’m…in over my head.
A few unhung frames leaned against the wall, and I wandered over and peeked at them. All baseball images, some awards and framed articles featuring him or his team, from college to the Crosscutters.
“It’s kind of bare right now, but I’ll get to decorating it eventually.” Linc tossed his newspaper on the coffee table. I dug mine from my purse and placed it on top of his. Then we stared at each other, and I didn’t know whether to sit or stay standing, or if I should initiate a move, or if we weren’t doing that. His body language was open, but analytical, like he was studying me the same way I was studying him.
“I’ve got ice cream,” he said.
“I love ice cream.”
He jerked his head toward the kitchen and I followed. He reached into his freezer and brought out cartons of fudge swirl and mint chocolate chip, holding up one and then the other.
“Fudge swirl,” I said. “I don’t believe in chocolate and mint.”
“Don’t believe in it?”
“When it comes to chocolate, I’m a purist. I like it combined with caramel, and occasionally peanut butter, but it doesn’t go with fruit, and it certainly doesn’t go with toothpaste flavor.”
He gasped the way he had when I’d compared baseball pants to pantaloons. “I don’t know if I can allow you to stay after saying something like that.”
“I’m not sure I want to stay if you’re going to eat gross ice cream.”
He scooped a spoonful of the mint and fired it at me.
This time I was the one who gasped as I dodged the ice cream. Spoon in his mouth, he scooped me a bowl of the fudge swirl, and then piled his bowl full of mint chocolate chip. He cleaned up the melting green blob on the floor and handed me my bowl.
“Thanks.”
We moved to the couch, and he transcribed the answers I’d managed to get into his original crossword puzzle. Apparently we truly were finishing the puzzle. A pang of disappointment went through me, and then I scolded myself. This was good. It showed he didn’t think of me as a hookup girl anymore.
Well, according to him, he’d always known I wasn’t one. Now I’m over thinking everything again.
One clue in particular gave us trouble, and without it, we weren’t doing so well filling in the other spaces.
“That’s it,” I said, after both of our bowls were empty and we hadn’t solved any more clues. “How could I be this bad at finding the answer to fruit-flavored candy? It’s just there are so many options, and with thirteen spaces to fill, I’m not sure if they’re doing the sketchy smoosh two to three words together thing.”
“The problem is, with that many spaces, you know your standby answer of ‘shit’ won’t fit,” Linc said.
“I know. It’s annoying and I’m done with it.” I lifted my phone and Linc’s eyes widened.
“What are you doing?”
“Phoning a friend. His name is Google, and he knows all.”
Linc lunged at me. “You can’t do that,” he said as he tried to grab my phone.
I tried to keep hold of it, even as his massive hand worked on wiggling it free. “Just let me get one answer! We’ll do the rest ourselves.”
“No. I’ve never cheated before, and I’m not cheating now.”
“Never? How do you get them all filled out?”
“I’ve had a few that are left with blank spaces. Then I see what they are the next day when the answers are printed, but I don’t claim them as mine.”
“I have no such qualms. Just look away and I’ll pretend I came up with it.”
“No.” He wrenched the phone from me and whipped it behind his back. During the struggle I’d been so focused on keeping my grip, I’d somehow failed to notice we were now practically horizontal on the couch, his body weight pressing me into the soft cushions. Heat rose fast, and when I shifted, he swallowed hard, so I had a feeling I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.
He lifted his hand and slowly brushed my hair from my face, his fingers dragging tingly trails across my skin, and that zing of awareness from yesterday tiptoed into all-consuming territory.
My breath lodged in my throat as my brain battled out whether to embrace carefree fun or stop this before we crossed a line we couldn’t uncross. This was why you were supposed to make those decisions long before the situation. In the moment, clear thoughts were too slippery.
“Linc…”
“Yes?”
My chest rose and fell in tandem with his.
“Let me guess,” he said, when I couldn’t get my mouth to work. “You’re supposed to ignore attraction and follow all the rules, no matter what. Don’t pretend you don’t feel something.”
With his hard body against me, it was impossible to deny. “Sparks are nice, but if you don’t have a balance, it’s like having really rich cheesecake every day. It’s delicious, but it’s not good for you. There are also different levels of sparks. Mild attraction can grow. Like those people you think are merely okay looking, but the more you get to know them, the better looking they become. That’s preferable to getting zapped and then fried by super-strong sparks.”
Honestly, I couldn’t believe I forced that much out. Usually talking clinically about emotions calmed guys down, but Linc seemed just as…not calm, his eyes darkening as they moved to my lips.
“So if you feel a spark you snuff it out?”
I licked my suddenly dry lips. “Not necessarily. It depends on what caused the spark. A look. An accidental brush—”
“Like so?” He brushed his fingertips down my arm, and my heart tried to beat right out of my chest. If this were an experiment in sparkage, well, mission achieved.
He leaned closer and his warm breath hit my neck. “You’ve got goose bumps. Tell me, is that a good sign?”
I bit my lip, suppressing the moan that wanted to come out. “Your entire body is against mine. That’s cheating.”
“Well, you’ve given your opinions on the subject, but here’s mine. Rules take out all the fun. Once in a while, you’ve just gotta live in the moment and let your instincts take over.”
I was about to tell him that security was fun—not to mention a lot safer—but then he pressed his lips to mine.
Every thought flew out of my head as I wrapped my arms around his neck and gave in to the kiss. The need to be closer overwhelmed me, and my instincts did take over. I arched my hips against his, the delicious friction sending a dart of heat up my core. Linc ran his hand up the outside of my leg, across my hip, and behind my back. He pushed me closer, eradicating every centimeter of space between our bodies as his tongue stroked mine.
Time slowed down and sped up, the room spun, and my entire being came down to his hands, his body, his lips.
Seconds passed—or maybe they were minutes. Each touch, each taste, blurred into the next. Then Linc sat up and tugged my shirt up. His fingertips dragged against my skin, and suddenly memories broke into real life. Kissing him. Losing my clothes.
And waking up alone.
“Stop.” I jerked away, my breath sawing in and out of my mouth. I could tell I’d stunned him, and I took advantage of his surprise, using it to put as much space as I could between us.
All my rules and experiences, and I still let myself kiss Linc. Let myself think I could live in the moment and not care about tomorrow morning. Frustration rose up, my body and my mind equally mad at me, but for different reasons.
“I…I can’t do this.” Dammit. I seriously considered fleeing, but I was an adult. Side note: I wasn’t sure I wanted to be an adult anymore. “Yes, I feel a lot of sparks when I’m with you, which makes it hard to not think about crossing that line. But I need more.”
I might’ve broken nearly a dozen other rules, but I’d at least get one right. “I need dates and hand-holding, and hangouts that are about more than just sex. If that’s not your thing, I understand, but then that means we need to stick to being just friends.”
Linc reached over and grabbed my hand. “How’s dinner Wednesday night sound?”
“Out somewhere?” I challenged, eyes narrowed.
“Wherever you want.” He slipped his fingers between mine, and a tight band formed around my chest. “I’m not the right type of guy, I get it. I’ve made my fair share of mistakes, I’m not great at relationships, and my career—hell, my entire life—is up in the air right now.” His grip on my hand tightened and I experienced that fresh from the rollercoaster feeling. “But, Savannah, I’m crazy about you.”
My heart beat in sharp, erratic bursts that pumped happiness through me in intoxicating waves.
“A wise fortune cookie once told me that the greatest risk is not taking one, and I want to take a risk with you.” He cupped my cheek with his free hand and brushed his thumb across my lower lip. “What do you say?”
I peered into his blue, blue eyes and slowly moved in, until my lips pressed against his. “I’d say we owe it to the cookie.”