That Girl (19 page)

Lincoln walks straight to me and grabs my face in his hands. His voice is heavy with determination and eerily calm. “I will not let anyone treat you this way. I don’t care who the fuck it is. Nobody is going to hurt you. Your begging and pleading isn’t going to stop me from leaving to defend your honor. Trust me when I say Paul will never be able to drive a truck again.”

This time Lincoln walks away, and I’m stunned from his words. Nobody has ever fought this hard when I’ve been abused or wronged. Part of me is cheering for him to go kick the driver’s ass, and the other is scared to death of the outcome.

***

“That’s his truck,” I say about two hours later.

Jewels and I have been huddled together on my bed, trying to watch T.V. and waiting on the men. I can hear Lincoln’s truck from blocks away; I’ve memorized the roar of his engine. It’s engrained in my memory.

Running out front to the sidewalk, I meet Lincoln and rush into his arms.

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“No.”

“I love you, Lincoln Wilks.”

It leaves my lips before I realize it, and I don’t panic or even try to run. I simply repeat it again.

“I love you, Lincoln Wilks.”

Chapter 14

All In at 1,104 Miles

“Is that lip gloss you’re wearing?”

Looking up from my shopping bag, I see Lincoln sitting on top of the picnic table next to my room.

“Lincoln!” I call happily, “when did you get back into town?”

He stands and starts walking toward me. “About thirty minutes ago.”

“Why didn’t you text or call?”

His lips turn up in a mischievous smile. “Because I wanted to see your face light up, baby.”

“Oh my God, your game was so freaking spot on.”

This was Lincoln’s second away game. Having him gone for three or four days at a time has nearly killed me. It sucks knowing I depend on him and want him so badly every single minute of the day. There are three more away games I have to deal with.

“Again, is that lip gloss you’re wearing?”

“Lincoln, it was hell. Jenni dragged me to a spa again. You wouldn’t believe the shit they do at those places. She actually got her yoo-hoo waxed,” I say, cringing and crossing my legs.

“So, did you?”

“Absolutely not. I just did some shit makeup and some freaking scrub thing.” I can’t tell if he’s disappointed or relieved.

“Want to go out tonight? There are a couple parties.” He reaches me and takes me in his arms.

“Actually, I just want burgers and ESPN.”

“I can manage that,” he mumbles into my lips.

“And by ESPN, I mean you shirtless in my bed holding me.”

He brushes his lips across my hair. “Anything, babe.”

Something about his demeanor seems off. “Lincoln, what’s wrong?”

He had another phenomenal game in Oklahoma, but he’s moping around here like his puppy was just run over.

“My mom and dad are in town.”

“Oh. Okay, what does the mean for you?” I know he doesn’t talk to his parents and avoids them at all costs, which I’ve found is not hard because their heads are always stuck up Levi’s ass.

“They want to have dinner tomorrow.”

“Okay, that’s not bad is it?” I study his face for clues.

“I’ll just hear all about Levi, and how close he is to breaking records, and how his season is set to be the best of his career, and how big his house…”

Placing my fingers over his mouth, I say, “Stop, I’ll go with you. Hold your hand and get you through the dinner. I’ll be there for you.”

I feel a bit of the tension ease from his shoulders. “Thank you,” he whispers down into my hair.

Wrapped up in his arms, I respond, “It’s the least I can do for you. Lincoln, you’ve brought me to life. The last three months have been nothing short of spectacular.”

“Oakley Ann, I don’t know if I can ever live a day without you now that I’ve found you.” He holds me a little tighter. “Never run again.”

I look up at him curiously. “Are you still worried that I’ll run?”

“It spooks me sometimes, yes.”

“Well, stop.”

With a nod, he seems to accept my statement. “Let’s go get some fucking food. I’m starving.”

I take Lincoln’s hand, making our way over to his truck.

“Now, that’s my boy. Let’s talk about ESPN and the spotlight light reel you were featured on. The commentator said, and I quote, ‘Wilks is a force to be reckoned with. Any offense in the country should be terrified and ready to run the ball. Let’s analyze all of his sixteen picks this season. And do I need to remind you we are only halfway through the season?’”

“Stalker much?” he asks with a huge shit-eating grin.

“Well, have you seen this beast? He’s tall, dark and handsome. Has some killer legs on him, and the tightest set of buns in his football pants. Not to mention the long brown hair and scruff on his face. He’s hot.”

“I’ve created a monster.”

***

I’m starting to wonder if I was suffering from a brain tumor when I told Lincoln I’d go with him to have dinner with his parents. He hasn’t been himself since returning from his last away game, and I know it’s because of his parents. It kills me to see him so worried and full of anxiety. I’m beginning to miss my Lincoln. The one who is always full of life and energy. I want him back. I keep reminding myself going with him to this dinner is the first step to getting him back.

Lincoln: Almost there baby.

Me: ok

As I’m getting dressed, I keep thinking of the horror stories I’ve been told about his mom. Every one of them serves as a warning about what kind of a bitch storm I’m walking into. Every outfit I put on screams ‘dollar store,’ but it’s who I am, and it’s who Lincoln loves, so that’s the way I’m going to roll. I settle on a pair of denim jeans with a ruffle tank top and a simple pair of flats. My short pixie hair is tame compared to some days when I let it all go.

“Honey, I’m home,” Lincoln sing-songs as he enter my room.

“Well, hello there, good looking.”

There’s my Lincoln in all of his defiance, dressed in his rattiest gym shorts and a dingy white tank that’s been worn to one too many practices. His hat is on backward, and his shoe laces are untied.

“Are you ready to attend a horror movie with me?” He tries to say this lightly, but the tension is clear in the lines around his mouth.

“I’ve waited all day. You’re freaking hot,” I reply.

Pushing Lincoln down on the bed, I crawl over top of him and nibble at his ear.

“Wait, I have something for you,” he says. He reaches down into his pocket, pulls out a little black box, and opens it. Without saying a word, he unsnaps two large diamond earrings and clips each one on my ears. “For you,” he says, leaning back to get a better look at my new adornment.

Tears stream down my face as he adjusts them. The love and admiration I have for this man is off the charts, and it’s about time I show him how I feel. I’m not able to buy him fancy gifts, but I can give him all of me by letting my love pour out over his body. Once his hands leave my ears, I don’t go back to his lips. Instead, I find his neck and begin peppering kisses down it, and then make my way to his chest. My hands pull up the hem of his tank, exposing his stomach, and I kiss it too. While my lips lick and taste his abs, my steady fingers pull down his shorts and then his boxers. I feel him spring to life, pushing up into my boobs.

“Oakley, I think you’re going too fast. Don’t…”

Reaching up, I place my fingers over his lips and dip my head inches lower, taking all of him in my mouth. The sound he makes turns me on more than his fingers or lips ever have. I have to hear that sound again, so I take him even deeper. Lincoln’s hands snap to my head and grip my hair.

“Holy fuck, Oak, oh my God. Please don’t stop.”

His words only fuel my desire to please him, and I work even harder. My other hand finds the base of him, and I grip him firmly, applying more pressure with my mouth. In this moment of intense desire to please Lincoln, I let go of everything I have and pour it all into him, and then time disappears, and all that’s left is pleasure filling the room.

***

“Jenni schooled me on the dos and don’ts,” I inform him as we hustle to his truck.

“By all means, any time she offers advice, listen up,” he says, lifting me up into the driver’s seat.

“You’re silly.”

“That was amazing, and guess what?”

I scoot over from the driver’s seat toward the middle. “What?”

“That’s the first time I ever let go in someone’s mouth.”

His words cause shivers to crawl up my spine and my cheeks to flame with heat. Something pulls at my gut, and my chest puffs out just a tiny bit knowing I was a first at something for him. He’s been my first in everything so far.

“We have about a ten minute drive before walking into the lions’ den.”

“It will be fine. Drive, crank up the music, and let’s just be us,” I say, reaching for the remote to his sound system.

“Deal. Always just us,” he repeats.

Ten minutes later, we pull into a massive gated community. Houses, or rather castles, are scattered all over a hillside and some even nestled in small valleys. Each one has huge pillars adorning them and gates protecting the entryway. Paved streets, beautiful decorative sidewalks, and manicured shrubs are everywhere. It’s paradise.

“This is where you were raised?” I ask, trying to keep the awe out of my voice.

“Yep, home sweet hell.”

“Holy shit,” I murmur taking in all the luxury.

We drive up to the biggest one on the biggest hill with the longest paved lane. Of course. Beautiful white fencing lines each side of the drive, with gorgeous pink rosebushes decorating every single inch of it.

I want to freak out and shit my pants, but keep it all reined in to help keep Lincoln calm.

I get out of the truck and adopt a fake swagger. “Well, buckle up, bitches. Let’s take names and kick some ass.”

Lincoln is unable to hold back a snort. “You’ve been spending way too much time with Jenni.”

“Kiss me.”

Lincoln leans down and kisses me, until I pull away just enough to say, “Now, remember this feeling, these lips on yours, remember us. I’ll always be here for you. Remember us and know I’m your number one fan. Fuck your dad. You’re a brilliant, amazing, talented, hot as fuck athlete.”

“Lincoln,” a high-pitched voice squeals.

I jolt back a half step and see the picture perfect mother standing before us, dressed in a very beautiful, very conservative pantsuit, with perfect hair and manicured nails. Before she schools her expression, I’m sure I see a hint of disapproval.

“Well, come in. You’re not going to sit in that truck all day are you?” she asks with an impatient flutter of fingers.

Lincoln climbs out, holding his hand out to me. I grab it and plan to not let go of it for the duration.

An older version of Lincoln walks up behind his mom. They are so identical in their stature and looks it almost spooks me. I do know the feeling of resembling your parent so closely, but wanting to be nothing like them.

“You didn’t tell us you were bringing a friend.” She’s trying to sound cheery, but I hear the judgmental undertone. She turns her gaze to Lincoln. “Good lord, son, you could’ve dressed up a bit. You haven’t seen us for months, you’d think you might try.”

His dad enters the fray, his voice full of grim resignation. “Jesus, Elaine, the boy doesn’t care. Never has, so quit poking at him.”

“What’s your friend’s name, Lincoln?”

“Mom, Dad, this is Oakley, my girlfriend.”

His mom’s jaw blatantly drops open, and then her eyes see our locked hands. She turns her back on us and walks into the house.

“Nice to meet you, Oakley,” his dad responds over his shoulder, having already turned to follow his wife.

“Guess they were expecting someone else,” I mutter, not even slightly surprised.

“Fuck them,” he growls.

I follow Lincoln’s lead into the house and can’t quit staring at everything. The place is simply beautiful.

Wasting no time, we are seated at the perfectly decorated dinner table where a feast lay before us. My hands tremble at the thought of breaking or staining something. Elegant glass adorns the entire table. The napkins are white linen, not a one-use paper napkin. The salt and pepper shakers look so fancy I’m not sure I’d even know how to use them.

Lincoln’s dad turns on the big screen across the room, and to no one’s surprise ESPN is the channel of choice.

“So, how did you two meet?” his mom, Elaine, asks, making a show of straightening her place setting.

I know Elaine just asked a question and I should be answering her or at least panicking, hoping like hell Lincoln is going to provide an answer. Instead, I sit and stare at my surroundings. The paintings, fancy fabric, and attention to detail covering every single inch of this space cause my stomach to whirlpool, stirring up desperate bile. I fight the battle of all battle trying to keep it contained. Then I hear his voice.

He simply answers and refuses to offer any detail. “At a local college hangout.”

“Very nice.” I can tell she doesn’t think it is. ”And what does your family do, Oakley?”

The note of tension in her voice is very similar to the sound nails make scraping down a chalkboard. The bile pooling in the back of my throat threatens again, and my eyes can only focus on the pepper shaker wondering how in the hell does that thing work. Desperately avoiding her questions, I focus on the feel of the plush carpet between my toes. My big toe is peeking over the edge of my flip flop. It’s a sensation I’ve never felt before. Comfort.