together like a real couple. There are no kissing shots or telltale signs of a real relationship. Whatever goes on behind closed hotel doors, there is no real evidence in the photos online.
It’s the not knowing that’s killing me. I’m not an idiot, though. I know something is going on, and that means it’s officially time for me to move on as well. When I text Lincoln to make sure we’re still on for brunch, he insists on driving over to pick me up even though he lives closer to the café than I do. That’s a move that guys make on a real, legit date.
I swallow my anxiety and shake off the cloak of pretending that’s been draped over my shoulders for the last twenty-four hours. I am no longer hanging out with Lincoln as some kind of pretend way of seeing another guy. This is a real date, and I should treat it like one. I should get butterflies in my stomach and shaking eyeliner lines because I’m so nervous about looking good for him.
I sit back in my vanity, examining the black lines around my upper and lower eyelids. Perfectly smooth. Guess I’ll have to conjure up some nervous energy before he gets here.
Lincoln’s voice rises up the stairs the moment I leave my bedroom. I check the time on my phone—he’s five minutes early, and I still don’t have nervous butterflies yet. Maybe they’re all dead , I think sarcastically as I head into the living room. Teig and Lincoln are standing near the fireplace while Molly makes small talk about one of the family vacation photos on the mantle. Dad is already at work, so I’m spared at least one third of the familial embarrassment.
“Where are you two going so early in the morning?” Molly asks, gripping her coffee mug in her hands.
“We’re getting brunch,” I answer for him, stepping into the living room.
Lincoln turns when he hears my voice, the corners of his lips twisting upward in an impish grin. His hands are shoved firmly into the pockets of his dark jeans and he’s traded in a Mixon Motocross T-shirt for a navy pearl snap shirt. The sleeves are rolled and shoved up to his elbows and his dark hair has been brushed and swept to the side with a crisp part. He’s even cuter than usual.
“Brunch will be fun!” Molly says with a little too much enthusiasm. “Just don’t offer Hana any coffee or she might throw it on you,” she adds, cupping her hand toward Lincoln as if we all couldn’t hear her.
“Oh I already know about Hana’s extreme aversion to coffee,” he says. “Any other food warnings I should know about?”
“No,” I say, grabbing him by the arm and shoving him toward the front door. “We will not be discussing my quirks in front of everyone. Let’s go.”
“Have fun!” Molly calls out as I shove Lincoln out of the door and close it quickly behind us.
“Sorry about that,” I tell him as we head toward his truck. It’s a blue Chevy pickup almost identical to my red one. “You know how it is with family . . . they won’t let me go anywhere without embarrassing me first.”
He clicks the door lock with his keys and opens the passenger side for me. “Nah, your family is cool.”
I thank him and climb into the truck, feeling like this whole open-the-door-for-me thing is a little too serious, too date-like. And although this is a date, it’s also happening at ten in the morning, and I’d wanted it to be a little more casual. I don’t need Acts Like a Gentleman to be added to the list of reasons why Lincoln would make a great new boyfriend.
My phone buzzes and since Lincoln’s driving, I break the rules of polite dating and check the message real quick. It’s Teig, and he’s being a little brat.
He’s nice and all but he’s no Ash.
I glance over and Lincoln is focused on the road, so I quickly type back to him and hope my little brother catches the venom in my words.
Ash doesn’t want me so seriously just shut up.
“Sorry, Teig was just asking me a question,” I say, shoving the phone back into my
It’s the not knowing that’s killing me. I’m not an idiot, though. I know something is going on, and that means it’s officially time for me to move on as well. When I text Lincoln to make sure we’re still on for brunch, he insists on driving over to pick me up even though he lives closer to the café than I do. That’s a move that guys make on a real, legit date.
I swallow my anxiety and shake off the cloak of pretending that’s been draped over my shoulders for the last twenty-four hours. I am no longer hanging out with Lincoln as some kind of pretend way of seeing another guy. This is a real date, and I should treat it like one. I should get butterflies in my stomach and shaking eyeliner lines because I’m so nervous about looking good for him.
I sit back in my vanity, examining the black lines around my upper and lower eyelids. Perfectly smooth. Guess I’ll have to conjure up some nervous energy before he gets here.
Lincoln’s voice rises up the stairs the moment I leave my bedroom. I check the time on my phone—he’s five minutes early, and I still don’t have nervous butterflies yet. Maybe they’re all dead , I think sarcastically as I head into the living room. Teig and Lincoln are standing near the fireplace while Molly makes small talk about one of the family vacation photos on the mantle. Dad is already at work, so I’m spared at least one third of the familial embarrassment.
“Where are you two going so early in the morning?” Molly asks, gripping her coffee mug in her hands.
“We’re getting brunch,” I answer for him, stepping into the living room.
Lincoln turns when he hears my voice, the corners of his lips twisting upward in an impish grin. His hands are shoved firmly into the pockets of his dark jeans and he’s traded in a Mixon Motocross T-shirt for a navy pearl snap shirt. The sleeves are rolled and shoved up to his elbows and his dark hair has been brushed and swept to the side with a crisp part. He’s even cuter than usual.
“Brunch will be fun!” Molly says with a little too much enthusiasm. “Just don’t offer Hana any coffee or she might throw it on you,” she adds, cupping her hand toward Lincoln as if we all couldn’t hear her.
“Oh I already know about Hana’s extreme aversion to coffee,” he says. “Any other food warnings I should know about?”
“No,” I say, grabbing him by the arm and shoving him toward the front door. “We will not be discussing my quirks in front of everyone. Let’s go.”
“Have fun!” Molly calls out as I shove Lincoln out of the door and close it quickly behind us.
“Sorry about that,” I tell him as we head toward his truck. It’s a blue Chevy pickup almost identical to my red one. “You know how it is with family . . . they won’t let me go anywhere without embarrassing me first.”
He clicks the door lock with his keys and opens the passenger side for me. “Nah, your family is cool.”
I thank him and climb into the truck, feeling like this whole open-the-door-for-me thing is a little too serious, too date-like. And although this is a date, it’s also happening at ten in the morning, and I’d wanted it to be a little more casual. I don’t need Acts Like a Gentleman to be added to the list of reasons why Lincoln would make a great new boyfriend.
My phone buzzes and since Lincoln’s driving, I break the rules of polite dating and check the message real quick. It’s Teig, and he’s being a little brat.
He’s nice and all but he’s no Ash.
I glance over and Lincoln is focused on the road, so I quickly type back to him and hope my little brother catches the venom in my words.
Ash doesn’t want me so seriously just shut up.
“Sorry, Teig was just asking me a question,” I say, shoving the phone back into my
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