@pancakesareelite:
You don’t even know what I look like
@theanswerisno:
It was more the feeling I woke up with
@pancakesareelite:
Oh
@theanswerisno:
NOT THAT
@theanswerisno:
I meant like… a nice feeling
@pancakesareelite:
Well, now I’m a little disappointed
The last time I’d seen those people was at theOverpowerLAN. They’d witnessed what was, undoubtedly, one of the most awful moments of my life.
I could never face them again. Especially Claire. Her glare was fixed in my memory.
Staying in here and working seemed like my best bet. I plonked onto the edge of my desk and leafed through the drawings we’d be using tomorrow. Working on-site had been nothing short of exhilarating. At one stage, I was in a ditch, digging a hole alongside Lincoln. The only reason I was in the ditch was to escape the way my body reacted to watching him dig. His biceps flexed and rippled as he shoveled. As far as I knew, engineers never did any of this, but he was so hands-on, actively engaging every muscle at every opportunity and driving me up the wall with a desire I worried may be unhealthy. It had been a while since I was intimate with anyone, and watching Lincoln dig a ditch had reminded my body of that.
Actually, watching Lincoln do anything didn’t help. A second ago, he stood in the living room wearing gray sweatpants and a loose T-shirt. It made him even more irresistible. I thought the shirt and tie did it for me, but off-the-clock Lincoln was intoxicating.
His friends’ laughter echoed through the cabin. I thought maybe I heard him laugh too.
I glanced upward, catching my reflection in the mirror. I was a complete mess. But Lincoln’s gaze had paused on my mouth. Maybe it didn’t mean anything. A lot of men stared at my mouth. Some even had the audacity to speak their thoughts out loud.
Not Lincoln. Lincoln was different. He was kind, gentle, and caring. Even when I didn’t deserve it.
Which made this entire situation worse. Couldn’t he be mean to me instead? I was used to that. But this?
I grabbed my phone, and despite knowing I shouldn’t, I textedmy mom:I could really use some advice. The internet up here is a little iffy but I can go outside if you’re planning on calling later.
Even though we hadn’t seen each other in years, she wouldn’t let me down when I needed her. Especially not tonight.
The message wouldn’t send. I stomped out of my bedroom and into the living room, where all Lincoln’s friends had gathered. Their eyes zoomed in on me.
Especially Claire. The fire in her gaze was an indication of how badly I’d hurt Lincoln. Her mouth flattened into a straight line.
Lincoln glanced her way before turning to me, his face fixed in a hard expression. “William, Rose, Claire, Dean, this is Elizabeth.”
“Nice to meet you,” Rose chirped up with a warm and welcoming smile I didn’t expect.
“Nice to meet you too.” I lifted my hand to wave, relieved she wasn’t sending me daggers like Claire. While I was generally unbothered by things like that, my composition was weaker today.
William didn’t seem too concerned by my presence, nodding in greeting, and Dean, the other person, simply smiled and raised his hand.
“Are your texts sending?” I asked Lincoln.
He frowned, taking out his phone.
