I feel instantly giddy, especially knowing that I’m the club whore in question. “So, he usually works out in the morning?”
“Religiously.”
I bite hard over my lip to keep from smiling like the whorish loon I’m panning out to be. Some of our best talks take place after I traipse through his room on my way to the loo. I’d like to think he’s enjoyed our morning chats, too, especially since they might be the very reason he’s keeping his cardio at bay. Although, tomorrow night, I’ll be sure to bring his cardio right back to optimum levels.
“You know, I think I will go to breakfast with you. Just give me a minute to pull myself together.”
“You bet!”
Lincoln is such a mystery. I’d love to hear any little tidbit they’d be willing to offer. And maybe, just maybe, they’d know a little about that crystal fetish he seems to be hiding from the rest of the world. And, if I’m lucky, something, anything about a woman named Jackie.
* * *
It’s not long into breakfast that I chicken out as far as asking any questions that might have to do with Lincoln’s love life. Instead, I sheepishly listen in on their private conversations and feel a little silly for tagging along.
Aspen leans toward Stevie, gripping her by the wrist to signify the importance of her next question. They’ve been talking all things baby for the last twenty minutes while Kinsley coos over Maddie.
“So, how long did you have to wait after having her?” Aspen hitches that sheet of black hair behind her ear. Both Stevie and Aspen were blessed with rivers of glossy hair that I would kill for. Leah has dark glossy hair, and yet, hers I’ve never envied. Kinsley and Lincoln don’t look any more related to Stevie and Aspen than I would.
“Six weeks to the day,” Stevie says between bites of her omelet. “We took it easy at first because I was basically a virgin again.” She looks to me and winces. “I hope you’re not offended. I think it’s totally commendable that you’re waiting for Mister Right.”
Aspen relaxes a hand over my shoulder. “You should be with the one you want to spend the rest of your life with when you do something huge like that.”
“Oh, come on.” Kinsley gags herself with the baby’s hand. “Macy is a grown woman. She can have sex anytime she feels like it.” She thumps me with that walnut she calls a knee. “Are you feeling it?”
The three of them lean in with matching giddy expressions.
My face heats ten shades of purple at the thought of divulging the truth. Something tells me if I spit out the words tomorrow night—Lincoln and me, the three of them will be feeling far less giddy for me and far more concerned for their brother. My uncles will blow a hole through Lincoln’s skull if they catch wind of this.
“Oh my God, you are!” Kinsley shouts as if I had just announced I was an alien. Virgins are often akin to impossible-to-find space creatures and just as plentiful at my age. “Who is it? Fess up?” She passes Maddie back to her mother because she’s suddenly invested in the conversation once again.
“No one you know,” I lie, easy as spilling water. Trust me, this is one lie they would thank me for. I’m sure no one wants to envision their brother getting hot and heavy with anyone—especially not someone who is basically their niece.
“I bet I know.” Stevie wiggles in her seat as if she can hardly contain herself. “And I’ve suspected this for quite some time.”
Oh God. My entire body catches on fire from embarrassment. Why didn’t I drive? This is quickly getting right up there with the time I urinated on myself in seventh grade.
Aspen offers a knowing nod. “It’s that Wolff guy, isn’t it?”
“Wait—there’s a werewolf involved?” Kinsley is on the edge of her paranormal seat.
The Old Me shouts, Deny, deny, deny! But New Me says, Sit back and enjoy the carnal ride. Here is your chance to glean everything you’ve ever wanted to know about the main event about to take over your squeezebox tomorrow night. You wanted three big sisters? You’ve got them.
“It might be.” I decide the middle of the road is my best option, so I play it coy. “Any tips for a first-timer?”
“Do you have feelings for this guy?” Stevie’s cheeks pinch with color, and this warms me to her.
“Yes. In fact, I do. Very strong feelings.” God, this is dangerously snowballing, but it feels like a balm.
“Are you sure you want to sleep with him?” Aspen ticks her head as if ready to convince me otherwise.
“Am I sure I need air?” That’s exactly how I feel about sharing this experience with Lincoln. It feels blissful to get the words out, even if it is shielded under layers of half-truths.
Kinsley’s jaw drops. Her mouth takes on all sorts of crazy shapes. “Well, I don’t know who this Wolff guy is, but I sort of thought you and Linc had a thing going.”
“What?” I spike in my seat. “Why on earth would you think that? That would totally never happen. He’s like an uncle to me.” New Me thinks I protest a little too much. And uncle? Not the groundwork I wanted to lay for developing something real with him.
Aspen raises a thick, wormy brow.
“You know”—Kinsley shrugs it off—“he’s just a little tense around you. He’s usually really easy-going, and whenever you’re around, no offense, he’s kind of a monster.” She expires a choo-choo train laugh as if it were something she’s been secretly guffawing about in private. “I’ve never seen him so rude to anyone.”
Aspen nods as if agreeing, and I’m oddly elated by this.
“Wow, if that’s how he treats the girls he likes, I’d hate to see what happens if he ever falls in love.” I fan my eyes as if it were too funny to even consider. I’m not sure I like New Phony Me, but in my phony defense, I can’t just come out and tell them I’m falling for their brother, that I’m dying to gift him my body in less than twenty-four hours. We’d have three spinach omelets regurgitated all over the chipped pine tables if I did.
Stevie looks to each of her sisters with a marked look of pity. “Linc has been in love before. He just won’t admit it.”
Here it is. I ready myself for the fat morsel of gossip about to launch my way.
Aspen gives an emphatic nod. “It’s not something we talk about. It’s a very sensitive subject.”
“He just closes up like an accordion.” Kinsley shakes her head while staring off into some invisible place where Lincoln has shuttered the world out one too many times.
Those tiny glass figurines come to mind. They were beautiful, thoughtful, and adorably perfect. Were they hers—Jackie’s? Just thinking of that necklace with the intertwined hearts sends a twinge of jealousy through me. Someone once had the power to wrangle Lincoln’s heart and rope it around her own, and it wasn’t any version of me.
“So, what happened?” I run my finger over the rim of my glass as if I were partially disinterested, just asking to be polite. “Bad breakup? Did she cheat on him?” I wanted to add, Was she a redheaded virgin? Because he’s totally freaked out about that anatomical combination, and I happen to be both.
The sisters exchange nervous glances.
“Oh, I’m sorry—he cheated on her? That’s too bad. I guess it does happen.” I do my best to spur the conversation along. The suspense is killing me. I want to threaten to dump Kinsley’s mimosa if she doesn’t spill everything she knows. The other two don’t imbibe, and I doubt their coffee holds as much relevance.
“No”—Aspen flashes a hand at the absurdity—“it was nothing like that. Lincoln is as faithful as they come. When he takes someone into his life, he’s loyal right down to the bullets in his gun. It was just a really hard thing, and I’m afraid if I said something about it, Lincoln would refute the whole thing, so let’s just forget about it.”
The other two nod furiously.
“I think he’s crested that wave,” Stevie adds. “Although, it’s undeniably molded him into the person he is today, protective—”
“Fiercely protective,” Aspen corrects.
My heart drums inside me at the enigma surrounding this girl—at what she did to Lincoln’s heart that was so unmentionable it has the power to never be spoken of again. And why would Lincoln deny any of it? This mystery wraps itself around my curiosity like gauze, thicker and thicker, with no one left to unravel it but Lincoln himself. Unless…
“Wow, she sounds infamous. What was her name?” It’s the last name I’m hoping for. I quickly take a sip of my orange juice as if it didn’t really matter, as if I wasn’t about to open an FBI-worthy investigation and perhaps track her down and have her tell me herself what the hell went wrong so I don’t repeat it.
“Never mind.” Kinsley brushes it off as if it were merely lint on the landscape of their lives. “Back to you. I won’t lie. I’m sort of bummed it’s not you and Linc. Who’s this Wolff guy? Please, dish.”
Oh God, oh God, oh God. The last thing I want to do is perpetuate my fabricated relationship any further.
Aspen gives an open-mouthed laugh. “His name is Luke, and he’s got every single girl at Jinx worked up in a sexual frenzy. If you told any one of them you were about to do the deed with the hottie-of-the-hive, you’d run the risk of having your eyes scratched out.”
“He’s that good, huh?” Kinsley reflects on this with a sour expression. “I still think you’d make a great fit with my brother.” A frown comes and goes. Kinsley is lobbying hard for Lincoln to win my vaginal electoral vote, and I can’t say I blame her. Lincoln is fierce in every capacity.
“Speaking of my brother.” Stevie clears her throat. “Anyone think it’s weird that Dad called us all for a family meeting tomorrow night? At first, I thought we would be going to dinner at the club or the Blue Door.” She pauses to lean toward me. “Those are the usual haunts, but he’s invited us to his home. I haven’t been there in years.”
Aspen huffs. “I can’t remember the last time I set foot in the lion’s lair.”
“Oh, come on.” Kinsley covers her face for a moment and groans. “My parents aren’t that bad, are they?” She winces. “Okay, they are. Sorry.”
“It’s not you.” Stevie averts her eyes. “It’s just how it is.” She looks to me again. “Daphne, my stepmother, isn’t a fan of Hans Lionheart’s spare heirs.”
“Oh, I’m not an heir.” Aspen lifts a finger at the revelation. “I’m just a strand of floating DNA she’d rather not think about.”
Stevie shrugs it off. “It would suck to be Daphne. When I think of all the bullshit he’s put her through, I want to throw up. I’m so glad Ford is loyal to a fault.” She lifts her coffee in salute to his honor.
“Here, here.” Aspen does the same. “Carter, too. I’m not sure he realizes that other women exist—no offense to anyone at this table.”
“None taken.” Kinsley lifts her glass, and I do the same. Her eyes droop, forlorn. “I guess here’s to you and Luke. I wish you both many happy years together.”
“To Macy and Luke!” Stevie and Aspen shout in unison.
Good God. Open the ground and swallow me whole. What the hell have I done?
“Salute,” I say, and we drink to everything and nothing. But I drink to Lincoln, to tomorrow night—to the fact I am expressly positive that he is the man I wish to gift my virginity to, but that seems rather secondary. I may have already gifted him my heart with a cherry red bow on top.
Good grief.
I did.
* * *
In the balm of an October evening, the skies light up above L.A. a flaming shade of orange as wildfires eat their way through Tujunga Canyon, licking up the oily fat brush. The parched landscape around us curls its fingers toward God, begging for a precipitation mercy that will never quite arrive. Lincoln takes me to Saki, a swanky sushi restaurant that sits on Sunset Boulevard just past Chateau Marmont.
Lincoln dons a fresh black suit, as opposed to the gray pinstripe he had on earlier at Jinx. I put on a little black dress, the only one I own, and paired it with the nude heels I wore the night of my engagement party. It’s a strange bookmark to have, clothing of all things—shoes, but I’m too practical to toss them out on their one hundred and ninety-five dollar heels, especially since they weren’t the ones that cheated on me. They’ve been pretty damn loyal to my feet and didn’t leave blisters like their bridal shower cousins. I’m sure Leah has long since pillaged my closet and is happily parading around Lemons University in my abandoned Steve Maddens. Leah has wanted to knife both my mother and me in the back from the very beginning. She may claim she hated us to our faces, but all Leah ever saw when she looked at the two of us was a ghostly reminder of her mother. It’s her mother she’s really hell-bent on destroying; she just hasn’t figured it out yet.
I lean into Lincoln as we follow the waitress to our seats. He wraps his arm around my waist as natural as anything, and we look like a couple. We are a couple. Lincoln just doesn’t know it yet. The eyes of all the females in the room cut straight to his glory. Lincoln commands attention wherever he goes—demands respect from the male population, too. He’s that magnetic, that awe-inspiring. His power is hard to deny. Even without knowing him, you would look at Lincoln Lionheart and say, That is a powerful man.
The waitress steals a glance at him and flashes her best I’m-available-later-if-you-are smile while seating us.
“I can’t believe it’s really you,” she gushes to Lincoln before he can sit down. Her toothy grin expands well past her gum line. “I’ve stalked Gravity a million times, just hoping to run into you, and here you are.” She laughs, exposing every single one of her dark-filled molars. “Fate!” She takes his hand and holds it awkwardly with both of hers, shaking it like a snow globe, but it’s her eyes that are doing the real talking, enlarging, darting to the private corridors, begging him to join in on the covert fun.
Bitch.
I reach for my water and knock it over right onto her perky white apron.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Lie. I bleed a crooked smile.
“Not a problem.” She mops it up, her face turning colors, sweat beading on her upper lip. “I’ll be back with a fresh one for you.” She storms off, still dusting the water off her waistline. Maybe now she’ll think twice before brazenly propositioning someone’s boyfriend with her eyes. Not that Lincoln is my boyfriend, but still, it’s the principle of the matter. What happened to girl code, chicks before dicks, and all that other bullshit? She must be a convert of the Church of Leah Morgenstern—all cheating hearts are welcome!
Lincoln scoots his chair closer to mine. “You’re too quiet. I worry when you’re quiet. Are you plotting that poor girl’s demise?”
“She was eye-fucking you. It’s so not cool to do that—in front of the girlfriend, no less.” My face ignites like a California hillside. “I mean—”
“You’re right.” A dry smile blinks on and off. “That wasn’t cool.” His brows furrow. “I’m with you.” Lincoln touches his hand over mine. That stern expression of his stays put for the interim. “I promise when we’re together, and even when we’re not, you are the only woman I think about. The only woman I care to see.”
My heart pumps out a spastic rhythm right through my skull. Lincoln has said the words I’ve secretly craved to hear. His brand of attention, his loyalty—it’s what I’ve longed for my entire life. Bradley saw right past me to the next girl, who happened to be Leah, but Lincoln doesn’t care enough to acknowledge that other girls exist.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
The waitress comes back with my water, iced and flavored with her spittle I’m sure. She lowers the glass with a nod as if I had communicated perfectly what I had wanted. Lincoln Lionheart isn’t for sale. He’s not free to matriculate with her genitals later this evening or any other. She scuttles off without a word, and Lincoln offers a placid smile my way.
“Kinsley tells me you’re sleeping with Luke Van Der Wolff,” he says flat and plain as if he understands this to be bullshit, and for that I’m grateful.
“Can I kill Kinsley, or will
that put a damper on our budding relationship?” I faux toast him with my water before landing it back onto the table. I might be swapping saliva soon, but I’m not starting with the blonde ambition’s loogie she might have hocked into my drink.
A slight tremor of rage percolates through me at the thought of Kinsley running to Lincoln with the news. You can’t really be mad at Kinsley, or any of his sisters for that matter. They’re all simply looking out for his best interest. Not that it was his best interest to know that. It was simply gossip on her part.
“Do we have a budding relationship?” His brows dip, and my stomach lights up with heat in concert. Every move he makes, every expression, every nuance I find wildly attractive. My body seems to have a visceral response to everything this man does. So, this is what it is to be in love. Actually, I suppose that other L word is in play, lust, but the naïve high school freshman in me insists this is true love, and it can be no truer. In reality, it’s more akin to having a mad crush on your math teacher, only to be disappointed later because it’s against his code of ethics to get it on with underage school girls. But my age isn’t the issue here—it’s the fact that my familial branches are rubbing a little too closely to the Cannon family tree.
“I don’t know about a relationship, but I definitely think we have something.” I bite down over my lip harder than expected. I didn’t think we’d plunge so deep before appetizers, and now all I want to do is gnaw through my flesh—and his, but that’s beside the point. “I like you. You’re fun to be around. You’ve softened to me, or at least I think you have. And—you seem very protective of me.” There it is. The buzzword, protective. Lincoln lives to protect those he loves, and I hunger to be one of them.