I hadn’t met someone to sweep me off my feet, but I’d made afriend.As Diego and I twirled and swayed, I realized I wanted Diego’s friendship more than I wanted anything else.
If only I could keep my stomach from churning every time I thought of Lincoln and Natasha. It was time. Lincoln Carter was inching too close to my defenses.
15
Lincoln
With sleek couches, low coffee tables cluttered with coffee dressings, and a whiteboard wall scribbled with illegible writing, the lounge wasn’t a place where actual work got done. Someone’s UNO deck was spread across one of the tables, as if a meeting had turned into a game night. A little announcement board hung in the corner, featuring a motivational phrase, more dare than encouragement. Especially since the genius had misspelled commitment. Two m’s where they didn’t belong. Four t’s.
Nina had told me Iwanteda higher role here. Climbing up the corporate ladder. Another item on the long list of shit that didn’t make sense. Who’d want to spend any time listening to Curt’s remarks about how Carmen needed to show less attitude and more cleavage?
The Keurig machine made a bizarre sound, signaling it was struggling to function. I could relate, for sure. I scooped out ice cubes and dumped them into the mug, and they clattered against the ceramic, coffee sloshing and burning my hand.
“Fuck!” I hissed.
“What are you even doing here?” Carmen’s voice carried through the doorway.
“Getting coffee.”
I let one more ice cube fall in the cup. More than three and it’d taste too close to iced coffee. That wasn’t what Nina had said. At some point, messing with my drinks brought her joy, so I’d keep it going. After all, I was putting my plan into motion for how to give her some petty satisfaction.
“What do you need help with?” Carmen asked. “I can’t pretend I don’t enjoy your misery, but?—”
“Yeah, that’s clear. You set Nina up with your brother…”
“You mean my sweet, gentle brother who looks like he just stepped out of a reggaeton video?” She smirked.
“Precisely.”
“I told you. My methods are… unorthodox.”
“That’s why you had to casually tell me where they were…?”
Carmen nodded.
“And you told Natasha.”
“No—” Carmen laughed. “That was karma for you.”
“Nina must think I’m back with her, Carmen.”
“Nah.” She waved her hand dismissively and picked up the Post-its I’d been writing on. “I don’t think Nina is too worried about you and Nasty Tasha.”
I would’ve agreed. Except Carmen didn’t see Nina’s face when Natasha wrapped her arms around me and buried her nose in my chest. She didn’t watch the color drain from Nina’s cheeks or hear the finality in her voice when she told Carmen’s brother “No.” Carmen wasn’t there at two in the morning when Nina slipped in after her date, and I’d been losing my mind on the couch.
I’d been waiting, restless and hopeful, though resigned to the possibility she wouldn’t come home until after breakfast.
I turned the lamp on to a soft glow as Nina stood barefoot in front of me, boots in hand. Shapely curves, cheeks flushed with a twinge of red that only came from alcohol and willpower. Her hair was loose, brushing her shoulders. The lamplight caught her eyes, restless but bright, and her weight shifted. Earlier that night, I’d been in her arms, and she’d looked at me in a way that gave me hope we could move forward. Then hesitation and defensiveness wrapped around the softness she’d started to show me, and for a moment, I couldn’t decide which part of her I craved more: her strength or her tenderness.
“Did you have a good time?”
It wasn’t the question I wanted to ask. What I’d wanted to say was uglier, needier.Did he kiss you? Did you like it? Did you wish it was me?
“Did you?” Her voice shook, the edge betraying the sting of her own hurt, and her brows drew together as she shrugged out of her jacket, fists clenched tightly around the material, and flung it onto the armchair.
“I left Natasha standing at that corner a minute after you walked away. Wanna know what I did after?”
“Not really, no.” She bent to place her boots on the floor. Her off-the-shoulder top dipped with her, and I caught a flash of lace, the swell of her breast threatening to slip free.
