Nora smiled across from us, kind and gentle. “You don’t have to tell us anything, Kristin. But everyone saw how he looked at you after your run. And how you looked back. Has something changed, being stuck out there in that big house together?”
Ryder’s grin was all teeth. “Come on, it’s been forever since you looked at him like that. You looked like a lightning strike about to hit.”
Before I could even think of a comeback, Kipp came back from the bar carrying a tray of drinks. He caught the tail end of Ryder’s comment, brows lifting. “Who’s getting struck by lightning?”
“Kristin,” Fallon said instantly. “By Lincoln.”
“Jesus.” I covered my face with both hands. “Can we not?”
Laughter exploded around the table, loud and easy, the kind that bounced off the walls and made the room feel smaller. I wanted to crawl under the table and stay there until everyone forgot about me, but at the same time, the teasing warmed me. It was real. This was what I’d missed: being part of something, not a rumor or a headline, just a person among people who cared enough to make fun of me.
The noise swallowed us again, music pulsing through the speakers, the air thick with heat and chatter. I finally started to breathe again.
Then I looked up.
Lincoln was watching me.
He’d turned from the bar, beer in hand, scanning the room like he was making sure we were all still standing. When his eyes locked on mine, the sound of the jukebox dimmed, the laughter fading to background static. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t do anything but look back.
Fallon’s whisper brushed my ear. “Magnets.”
I barely heard her.
Lincoln crossed the room, cutting through the crowd like the rest of them didn’t exist. Conversations faltered as he passed. Lydia glanced up from behind the bar, smirked, and leaned into Faith to say something that made her laugh.
By the time he reached our table, my heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my fingertips.
He stopped beside the booth, eyes sweeping the group once before landing on me. “Hey.”
“Nice of you to finally join us,” Nash said, sliding over to make room. “You sitting or glaring?”
Lincoln’s mouth twitched. “Sitting.”
He dropped into the booth beside me, close enough that our thighs brushed. I froze. He shifted just slightly, polite enough to give me space, but it didn’t matter. The heat was already there, curling low in my stomach.
The conversation picked up again, though it sounded different now. A little tighter. Everyone felt it, the way his presence changed the air, the way my whole body went on high alert just being next to him. Fallon tried to steer things back toward karaoke plans, Elle asked Faith for another round, and Nora and Kipp disappeared toward the dance floor, laughing.
Lincoln didn’t talk much. He never did. But when someone asked me something, he listened. When I laughed, his gaze flicked my way, steady and unreadable, but softer than I remembered.
I couldn’t stop stealing glances at him, even when I tried. The rough edge of his jaw, the way the collar of his jacket brushed the base of his throat, the slow, controlled way he moved. Everything about him felt grounded, sure, and too damn magnetic.
Fallon, of course, noticed. She leaned forward, grin wicked. “Dance floor looks empty.”
I blinked at her. “What?”
“You heard me. One of you boys should take her out.” Her gaze flicked from Nash to Ryder to Lincoln, landing right where she wanted it to.
“I don’t dance,” I said quickly.
“That’s a lie,” Elle said, smiling as she reached for Griffin’s beer. “We’ve all seen you dance.”
Fallon slapped the table. “Come on. Kristin needs to celebrate. What’s the point of winning if you don’t show off a little?”
Before I could answer, Lincoln spoke. His voice was low, steady. “She doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to.”
The table went quiet.
It wasn’t what he said, it was how he said it. Calm. Controlled. Possessive in a way that made something deep inside me tighten.
