The familiarity of loss tugged between us. I knew loss well, but it was new for Vin. Fair as it was, grief sagged his shoulders,settling into him, the kind that carved a home in your chest when you lost someone important. For better or worse, we still had each other…, but it wasn’t enough for forgiveness. Not yet. Shared pain was still pain.
Lincoln’s hand brushed mine, just featherlight support. “You don’t owe him anything,” he said, low.
“I know,” I said, though my throat felt tight, the words scraped raw. “But I needed to hear him say it.”
Vinny swallowed hard, his chin dipping in a measured nod. “Then I’m glad I did.” He shifted, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. “I’ll stay out of your way. Both of you. But if you ever?—”
“It’s too soon, Vin. I’m sure you took my box out of care, what came after though, the repercussions for Linc and me, you should have spoken up… I know you were a kid, but you haven’t been one in a long time, and I just… I can’t.” It wasn’t cruel, just honest.
Vinny nodded again, slower this time. My words seemed to settle on him the way a verdict would, and left without another word.
Lincoln let out a long breath, leaning back, his arm still pressed against me. “Let’s go home?”
Homesounded so sweet coming from his lips.
26
Lincoln
Somehow, we’d been official business partners for two months. Time had flown by between delineating roles and responsibilities, onboarding her clients to her second-in-command, and acquiring new clients while still ensuring BrightMark got everything they wanted from our two-person team. I’d naturally defaulted to negotiating fees and cracking the whip when clients got greedy. Every meal had turned into a business meeting, and most nights, we worked late. Outside of a fee-based lawyer, Clean Slate Branding & Strategy was just us, on our own terms.
Most of the time, it wasn’t flashy work. Sometimes, it was just building outreach so family-owned businesses could keep making enough to survive inflation. It was satisfying in a way I’d never felt, but the volume of work was overwhelming at times. All in all, it was early, but making Nina’s vision come to life and working with her one-on-one filled me with resolve and excitement.
She padded over from the kitchen, her movements had become as natural and familiar as my own. I loved seeing it. The smell of fresh coffee curled through the air as she placed thecup right in front of me. Freshly brewed and hot. So hot and delicious. Just the way she liked it, and how I’d love to have it. But wouldn’t.
Without explaining, I stood up and dropped three ice cubes into the cup to bring it to room temperature, anything else would have been cheating.
“Still drinking it lukewarm?” she teased, passing me the sugar.
I smirked around the rim, taking a sip just to prove her point.
“You know I was messing with you, right?” she said, tilting her head, that tiny, maddening smile on her lips heightened by lip gloss she’d started wearing most days.
“Yeah, well”—I shrugged, the drumline under my ribs thudding in a way it only does around her— “at one point, you thought it was some kind of necessary punishment, so… it’s happening.”
Her breath hitched, just enough to recalibrate every muscle, attune to her.
“For how long?” she asked.
“For as long as it takes,” I stated, leaning over. I didn’t need to tell her what I was after.
Her eyes softened, and for a second, everything else faded away.
Then her phone rang, vibrating on the table. The moment withered away, shattered, as she turned the screen toward herself, and I caught the name before she angled it away.
Kevin.
Who the fuck was Kevin?
I took a sip of the coffee to hide my disappointment. It tasted of ashes, nothing to do with the temperature.
“Just a second,” she said to me, stepping into the hallway.
I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Hell, I didn’t even move. But the apartment was quiet, and her voice carried. My knuckles whitened around the coffee cup.
“Hey, Kev.”
My stomach knotted.
