Chapter Eight

Lincoln

 

Waking up to Michaela out of my bed? Okay.

Waking up to her out of the apartment? Sucked.

After that second amazing round of sex, she was totally wiped out, so I figured I’d hold her, we’d nap, then use the rest of the night very wisely.

Never expected to be dead to the world until eight in the morning! Some rockstar…

Then came all the questions—when did she leave? How did I sleep through her sneaking out? Why’d she bail without even a note?

Did I make her think I wanted that?

I had tried to follow my friends’ wives’ advice. I started slow with her, trying to chat and get to know her. Never asked her on a date until by voicemail just now.

When I kissed her outside Jake’s place, she didn’t shy away and I went slowly. She was the one who kicked it into overdrive and definitely willing by the time we got to my place, so… Maybe they were a little wrong about her. She shied from dating but had no problem scratching an itch with no-strings sex. People assumed musicians were all about that and I was the only single guy at the party, so—I got used.

A damn fine using, at least.

That second time? After I told her I could do better? Fuck.

That might be shower fuel for the rest of my days.

Wasn’t just the heat of the moment that made me say she was the highlight of my year, though. Every time I’d seen her loosen up a little so far, it was like getting a peek at the shiny crystals inside a geode. Chipping away at the ugly rock revealed more beauty.

Making her smile had felt like winning a gold medal.

I needed an excuse to see her again.

Then something shiny on my carpet caught my eye. Christmas glitter? I bent to pick it up and discovered an earring. Michaela’s earring. Yes!

Thank you, universe.

The little cross on a post suited her, because of course she’d wear understated studs when she wasn’t the star of the evening. Now, to find the backing. Women were always upset when they only had part of an earring. I brought up the flashlight on my phone and shone it around until I felt something picky with my bare toe. Bingo. I put the pieces together, then slipped the earring into a sandwich baggie so it’d be harder to lose and tucked the precious finding in my wallet. Texted Michaela, then waited for her reply.

She’d want it back, right? Looked like real gold. She wouldn’t throw away gold.

You need to be ready to go to her.

An interminable wait, but she finally replied.

Leave it at the Lindseys. I have to pick up my guitar.

Could I beat her to Jake’s?

Plus: I had a fast car. Minus: It wasn’t great at cornering.

As Granddad used to say, there are two things Mopars don’t do—turn and stop.

I’d upgraded brakes from the original, but suspension work was more complicated, and expensive, and I wasn’t planning to road race the Charger any time soon.

Shoes, moron.

Keys, wallet, phone, and I was out the door.

Hopefully, with luck.