“What do you want?”
“I was actually here for a bit but I didn't want to interrupt you guys because clearly… you had unfinished business. I'm kind of sad you didn't invite me,” I smile.
“Whywould I invite you?”
I step toward her sweetly. “I know you remember what happened with us. I know how good I made you feel and you're trying to forget it but just because you don't want to talk about it doesn't mean it didn't happen.”
“What I do remember happening is you taking advantage of me when I was drunk. That's what I remember.”
“And I remember you coming hard while I pleased you. I remember you getting off on all of us enjoying each other for New Year's. And there's no shame in it whatsoever.”
She just stares at me, her eyelids heavy as if she can't be bothered. “Why are you here?”
“While it's good to see you, I actually came to see Lincoln because he wasn't doing so well earlier and he's not answering my calls… so.”
“Yeah well, he's tired. And you can't just show up—” she starts to say until Lincoln cuts her off as he appears behind her, shirtless looking like a Greek god wearing those dark gray cotton pants that hug him in all the right places.
“You can come in Sarah,” he says over her shoulder, ignoring her completely.
“UM,” she starts to say.
“Umwhat? It'smyhouse. And like I said, I need you to leave.”
“What?” Gabby says in disbelief.
Now this is interesting.
“I said fucking leave,” Lincoln says.
Gabby just stares at him. “You're going to have to call the cops to come get me. Because there isn't any way you threw my stuff outside and then fucking assaulted me, got your rocks off and then you're trying to kick me out after you invite your bitch here.”
“I didn't invite her here, but since she'shereand you were going to leave anyway, why don't you just leave?”
Both of them argue back and forth and I wish I had a bucket of popcorn right now because this is too good.
“You don't want to be here anyway,” Lincoln informs her. His jaw is set.
I can tell that Gabby wants to fight him but she looks back at me standing outside the front door and then at him, then scoffs.
Grabbing her clothes from the outside steps, thrown down all around, and her luggage, she puts them off into the grass to the side, goes in and gets her phone, and puts on her shoes, almost stumbling with how bad she's shaking in rage.
I really do try to fight my smile but it just ends up popping up anyway. She catches me. Not what I wanted but oh well. “I'm sure you… he'll let you come back.”
She says nothing. Only walks down the driveway until she's on the street and disappears.
The minute I step inside the house it smells like sex. Raw, dirty, angry, hateful, demonic sex.
Damn. Lincoln is picking up things off of the ground, mostly clothes or tissues.
“So…” I begin, placing my hands behind my back, pouting my lips, wondering what to say.
“So what,” he asks me, looking tired.
“I just… uhhh… wanted to check up to see how you're doing but I see that you're doing very well,” I say sarcastically with a smile, one that he can't see because his back is turned as he fumbles with something in the kitchen sink.
“Lincoln?”
Something's wrong. He stands there bracing himself up with his hands, dipping the left side of his hip to put all his weight on the right leg.
