Only to almost run smack into Lincoln and nearly toppling us both to the ground.
Stumbling to get my bearings, Lincoln's eyes flared in recognition as he skidded backward. I don't think he expected me to walk out in that moment as much as I didn't expect to see him right after walking through the door.
“Lincoln,” I stuttered, trying to laugh off the nerves that were suddenly swarming my insides like wasps sensing fear. “Sorry, I didn't expect to run into you on my way out.”
Lincoln nodded politely, a minuscule smile curving one corner of his mouth. “Yeah, sorry, I was just going to see if you had a minute to talk.”
Oh, Isodidn't want to have the conversation I feared was about to be on the table here. I would have preferred to avoid this potentially messy encounter to begin with, so the fact that I was having to face it head on was less than ideal.
He caught me wrapped in my thoughts, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he crossed his arms across his chest. “I just wanted to clear the air because it seems like you're avoiding me?”
I kinda am, I thought selfishly. The way he was posing it as a question more than a statement wasn’t lost on me either. But I wasn't looking to hurt Lincoln's feelings. Just because I didn't want to repeat our sexual encounter didn't mean I hadn’t enjoyed myself.
“I’m notintentionallyavoiding you, Lincoln.” I stated with a steel jaw, trying to keep my voice even.
“So...you didn't have a good time like you originally said?”
“No!” I shouted, unable to keep from elevating my voice, earning me a stare from someone walking by. “No, that's notit at all.” I leaned forward, lowering my tone. “Ireallyenjoyed myself. I swear.”
“Okay.” Lincoln shifted on his feet again, uncrossing his arms so that they hung by his sides. “You just don't want to do it again? Is that it?”
“I’m only here for a couple weeks.” I nodded, as if that explained everything. Knowing that it didn't, I pressed on. “I had a hell of a time together, but I don't want you to get the wrong idea about where I stand. I'm leaving after the festival so I'm just not looking to extend any connections I may or may not make while here in Phoebe.” I could see the wheels turning behind his eyes as he took in my clarification. Grabbing one of his hands, I stared into his eyes as I tried to qualm the upset brewing behind his baby blues. “Cliche as it is, it's truly me and not you.”
“I understand." Lincoln nodded. “I mean, we could just have more fun without getting attached, if you want.”
The sparkle of hope shone through his eyes, his mouth turning into a timid smile that told me just how promising he was feeling. But that sounded messy as fuck to me and I wasn't trying to get anything on my mind that would be considered even remotely messy.
“I just know myself,” I shook my head. “And I'm not sure I could separate that.” I squeezed his hand earnestly. “I’m really sorry, but I hope you can understand that I'm not interested in anything more than a one night thing right now.”
It took Lincoln a couple beats, but finally, I saw a brightness spread through his features as he stared back at me tenfold. His smile at least made me feel a little less guilty. Not much, but I'd take what I could get my hands on.
“I get it.” Lincoln nodded, still letting the grin keep his face sour free. “I just wanted to touch base and make sure we got on the same page.”
“I appreciate that, and I'm sorry if I didn't handle communicating well enough before now.”
“Enh, it's all good.” Lincoln laughed. “We can still hang out, as friends, with the group or whatever if you want.”
“Now that I'm totally down for.” I agreed. “But right now, I'm headed for an interview for a temp job so I hate to rush off, but—”
“Oh, no, you go. Good luck with the job!”
“Thanks, Lincoln.”
I walked away from Lincoln, turning to the back of the RV to fetch my bike. Though it was tough to have those hard types of conversations, I'm glad I talked it out with Lincoln. Now there was no assumptions about where we stood and hopefully, we could move forward as friends while we stayed at the RV park.
Now if I could just shake the adrenaline of said conversation in the hopes of acing my interview.
Chapter 8
A firm handshakeproceeded Jane's smile as we both stood up from our respective seats. The interview had ultimately come to an end with wonderful results. Jane had offered me the job on the spot after hearing of my insurance experience.
Admittedly, she'd said I was a bit overqualified to help work in a haunted house but after a bit of pleading and explaining my temporary situation by being in Phoebe, she'd conceded and offered me the job.
After going through the pay, which wasn't over the top (not that I expected it to be) but money was money so I wasn't too bothered about the heft of my paycheck going forward, Jane had me sign some paperwork and then she'd said she wanted me to meet the rest of the gang that would be working with me in the makeshift haunted house that had been constructed in the field long before I'd set foot on the property.
The restored Victorian that was at the back edge of the vast couple of acres was a recent shade of purple, according to Jane. I'd learned during the interview that Jane had inherited the house from her grandparents and upon their passing, she'd taken ownership of the house. This was only her fourth year offering the space for the Hell-O-Ween festival, having hadtaken place down Main Street years prior. But now, the festival had grown a bit too big for what the town was looking to do and Jane had a similar pension for all things spooky that made the decision mutually beneficial.
We walked out of Jane's office on the first floor, our steps creaking underneath the age of the house's original floorboards. Lots of horror memorabilia donned the walls, ranging from movie posters fromNightmare On Elm Streetto figures of Chucky and Tiffany from the Child's Play franchise that sat on shelves perfectly pinned to the walls. More horror paraphernalia was splashed on the walls, everything spooky and sinister from the furniture to the most minuscule of decor.
