“I’m sure he went home,” Smith said.
“Yeah.”
“Sorry your party was a bust,” Finn added with a small grin. “But you can save the catalyst of that sucker punch for the next time I ask you to tell me something interesting.”
I snorted, rolling my eyes at my closest brother before reaching into my pocket to dig out my phone. I don’t know if I’d expected to have a message from Lincoln there, but I was beyond disappointed to find out I didn’t. I texted Marshall, and he didn’t answer, but Smith was probably right about Lincoln’s final destination.
“Enjoy as much of the booze as they’ll let you,” I told my brothers. “I’ll text you in a bit.”
“Use the group chat,” Finn said, reminding me of its existence.
I nodded and jogged to the elevator, already keying Lincoln’s address into my nav. As soon as I pulled my car out of the garage and into the street, I called Marshall but he didn’t answer. Lincoln didn’t live terribly far, but it still took me half an hour of frustrating weekend traffic to get there. The lights in his apartment were off, and no matter how many times I banged on the door, there was no answer.
I called Lincoln next, that also going unanswered.
I texted him twice, pounding my fist against his door until one of his neighbors came out to yell at me over the noise. I apologized to her profusely, called Marshall and Lincoln again, then headed to my next destination, Marshall’s house. I ended up running into the two of them in Marshall’s driveway, Silas looking a little frenzied, phone held tight in his hand.
“Is he here?” I asked.
It made sense to me that Marshall’s house would be a safe space for Lincoln to go when he was feeling off about things. It was, after all, not just Marshall’s house now but also Silas’s. It was also the place Lincoln had gone after our first scene together, back before we’d even known each other’s names. It was the place everything had started for us, and I hoped it wouldn’t be the place things ended.
“No,” Marshall told me, his head tilted to the side in nervous concern. “We just checked his apartment, but he wasn’t there either.”
“That’s where I came from too.” I bracketed my hands against my hips and stared up at the night sky, not a star in sight. “There’s no point in us chasing each other around the city all night.”
“If he shows up here, I’ll let you know,” Marshall promised.
“I’m still trying to get a hold of him,” Silas added, and I nodded at them both, dialing his number again for myself and finding nothing more than voicemail. “Okay.”
I agreed because I didn’t know what else to do.
“He can’t be far,” Silas told me, another gentle touch against my arm. “He’s a creature of comfort. He’ll want to be someplace safe.”
“That’s why I came he—” I snapped my mouth closed, cursing myself under my breath. “I know where he is.”
I ignored both of their questions, hopping into my car and heading to my apartment. I’d been an idiot for thinking Lincolnwould have gone to his apartment. That wasn’t his home anymore. He’d literally moved his things—and his fish—into my place only hours before. If Lincoln had gone anywhere, he’d gone to my place.
He’d gone home.
My assumption proved right, as I found his car in a guest spot, the engine still warm. After the slowest elevator ride from the lobby to my floor, I all but sprinted down the hallway. The door was propped open, much like I’d done for him in the early days of our relationship, and something burned hot in the middle of my chest. He knew I’d come after him, and he’d wanted to make it easy.
“Lincoln!” I called out for him as soon as my feet hit the tile entryway, but I heard no reply. I did hear running water, though. The shower. And I found Lincoln with his back pressed against the wall and his eyes closed, steaming hot water splattering against his cheeks and his chest. His clothes were scattered across the floor, the plug I’d put in him hours before discarded alongside them.
“Lincoln,” I said again, stepping into the shower without even bothering to take off my clothes. I wrapped my arms around him and yanked him into my arms, the tight scrabble of his fingers against my shoulder blades almost enough to crack me open on the spot.
“I’m sorry,” he whimpered against my chest, and I curled my hand around the back of his head, pressing his body more fully against mine.
“Stop that,” I warned. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
“You deserve someone better than me,” he argued, the words still muffled against my soaking wet shirt.
“There is no one better for me, Lincoln. Iwantyou.”
He said nothing.
“I need you,” I whispered against the shell of his ear. “More than I’ve ever needed anything in my life.”
Around me, Lincoln’s arms relaxed, but so did his knees. It would be easy to hold him if we had more room, but once he’d landed in my arms, my adrenaline started to crash. I held him tight while we both slid down to the floor of the shower, and I opened my arms only wide enough for him to crawl onto my lap and curl into a ball.
