by T Gephart
“Why don’t we sit down, and you ladies can reminisce,” Edwin suggested, his hand pressing against my lower back. “My brother Hal will be joining us for dinner, and I’m sure he’d love to hear how you lovely ladies know each other.”
Great, I’d unwittingly walked into some cute double date, not what I’d hoped for.
“Ah, that won’t be necessary.” I rested my hand on Edwin’s chest as I moved my ass out of reach from his sliding palm. “This is only going to take a minute, and then I’m going to go.”
“You’re going to leave?” Edwin looked utterly incredulous as he laughed. “Come on, Zara, it’s dinner. I’ll even keep my hands to myself.”
“Oooooo such a tempting offer.” I tapped my chin, pretending to give it some thought. “But I’m going to have to pass. I like my men to withhold sexual advances because of lack of consent, and not as a bargaining chip.” I turned, facing a bewildered Delia who clearly had no idea what to say. Maybe she’d already started on the champagne and it was one of ‘those’ nights, or maybe she’d lost the ability to think for herself when she married a pig with a large bank account.
Ouch, that was harsh. I wasn’t sure Hal was a pig. I was being very unfair in my profiling.
“Delia.” I ignored my bias, secretly promising to repent for being an assuming, judgmental bitch after I left the Carlisle penthouse. “Do you remember working as a—” I waved my hand around trying to find an accurate description of the con-artist she’d been. “A fortune teller at Coney Island? I’ll give you a moment to remember since it was probably when you were either a senior in high school or had just started college.”
Since I didn’t know how old she was—or had been—I was guessing. But no one forgot the shitty part-time hustle they had to do before they became an adult, even if it felt like a hundred years ago.
“Ummm, yes.” Delia laughed, her body relaxing. “It was my freshman year of college. It was this stupid carnival attraction. Easy money. All I had to do was sit there and pretend like I knew what these gullible morons wanted me to say. Occasionally I’d give them the opposite, which would just make them come back. Why? Did you work there too?”
It was the most anyone had said since I’d arrived, her trip down memory lane obviously a fond one. Pity it wasn’t going to stay like that.
“No, I didn’t work there.” I pretended to laugh, annoyed she could be so flippant about playing with people’s emotions. Sure, I knew it was fake, but I still remembered how upset my sister had been. “My sister Belle and I were customers. You told her she was going to never be happy in love, and me.” My hand dramatically fluttered to my chest in a move that would’ve made Belle proud. “And I was going to fall in love and marry Edwin Carlisle.”
Edwin laughed nervously, looking between us and probably assuming I was crazy. “Hey, I just wanted to take you to dinner, maybe sleep with you. I didn’t say anything about getting married.”
“Really?” I pretended to look shocked as I rolled my eyes. “Here I was thinking that your sister-in-law was really a modern-day cupid, and we were destined for eternal happiness. Give me a break.”
“Look, I don’t remember what I said.” Delia held out her hands, trying to put distance between us. “I was high a lot, Hal and I had just started dating and Eddie was a pain in the ass. I used his name a few times.”
“How was I a pain in the ass?” Edwin shot back indignantly. “And why the hell did you drag me into it?”
“Because these girls would never have met you, stupid. They were riding the Ferris wheel and eating two-dollar cotton candy. Unless you hired them to be your maid, none of them were going to end up your wife.”
“Wowwwww.” It flew out of my mouth, wondering what kind of entitlement you needed to have to say something like that. And considering Delia had been a college student working a Coney Island sideshow, she probably hadn’t been born with a trust fund, her elitist boyfriend/later husband affording her the audacity.
“A person’s worth doesn’t come from their social standing, and you have no idea what someone is destined to become.” I was offended, not for myself, but for the other people who Madame Delia had not only duped but probably used as punchlines over the years. “Funnily enough, I came here annoyed at you.” My eyes connected with Delia. “But now I just feel sorry for you. That the only way you could feel superior was to make others feel small. Seems like you should be spending more time working on your own self-esteem instead of attending charity galas.”
“Hello, everyone! What did I miss?” Hal burst through the door, his smile a mile wide. “I hope dinner is soon though, because I’m famished.” He moved to his wife’s side dropping a kiss on her shocked-as-shit face.
“Well, Hal, you can have my share.” I bowed dramatically—seriously Belle would be so proud. “I’ll be leaving you all, figure I should go slum with the help.” I turned, heading toward the door but not before tossing over my shoulder. “And for the record, Edwin, I’ll be making a statement clarifying that we aren’t and never were dating. It’s nothing personal, but I wouldn’t want my reputation sullied by the assumption that I dabble with your kind. And I’d be careful what blind items you suggest to tabloids as well. I’ve not lost a libel suit yet, and knowing your net worth would make this very attractive to a two-dollar-cotton-candy-eater like myself. See ya.”
Then I flipped them off—completely childish but whatever—leaving them all stunned as I called the elevator and got inside. I was so done with them, the stupid prophecy, and any and all things that involved any Carlisle.
I couldn’t wait to tell Belle, almost wishing she’d been there to see it. The smile was still on my face when I got to the lobby, my phone in my hand ready to call an Uber to take me home.
“Zara.”
My name stopped me in my tracks, spoken by a voice I’d dreamt about all week. I was almost worried I was hearing things, until I turned around and saw him there.
Lincoln.
Here.
In front of me.
“Hey,” he said softly moving closer, hesitating for only a moment before resting his hands on my hips. “I didn’t trust the weather report, figured I should come see it for myself.”
I couldn’t breathe, wanting to be wrapped in his arms and kissed more than I wanted oxygen. “Yeah? Trust issues don’t speak fondly of your character, you should work on that.”
“I trust you.” He brought me closer, our faces only inches apart. “So maybe you could help me with that.”
My mouth opened to answer but before I could get any of the words out, his lips were on mine, kissing me. My moan was stolen by his inhale as my hands latched onto the front of his shirt. I knew I wasn’t dreaming but couldn’t be sure it was real, desperate to absorb every second with him in case it faded again. I just didn’t want to be without him, the idea of saying goodbye to him a second time—like actually saying goodbye—something I wasn’t sure I could face. Maybe that’s why I’d avoided it in the first place, figuring it was better to live in the possibility of purgatory than a reality of hell.
His hands were everywhere, touching my body in a way I was sure was inappropriate for an upscale apartment building on the Upper East Side. But I didn’t care, ignoring the clearing throat coming from the doorman who was probably three seconds from throwing us out. I needed to feel him, to feel his mouth on mine while I touched him, if only to convince myself that he was there and it was really happening.
“Lincoln.” His name was the only coherent thing my mouth was able to utter.
Please don’t stop, I didn’t add, unwilling to waste the opportunity to say words.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he groaned out, his lips seeking mine so desperately you’d think it had been years since we last saw each other, not a week.
It might as well have been a lifetime.
“What are you doing here?” I gasped out between kisses, unwilling to stop to ask properly.
“Belle told me.” Kiss. “Needed to see you.” Kiss.
“Don’t date him.”
I laughed, trying my best to pull myself away. “I meant in New York, and Belle played you. This wasn’t a date.”
“Your sister is diabolical.” Lincoln chuckled against my mouth. “And I’m in New York because I couldn’t live without you. Leaving you was a mistake, Zara. I should never have gotten on the plane.”
My eyes got misty, tears pooling at the corners wondering why I’d needed to hear those words so much. I should’ve told him not to go. I should’ve fought for us too. “I didn’t give you much choice. I’m sorry, Lincoln. I pushed you away and that wasn’t fair. Letting you go was my mistake.”
He wrapped his arms around me, bringing me closer and kissing the top of my head. “So can we agree that we’re both at fault, because regardless of who is responsible, I just know I can’t live without you. Not since that day at that hospital, and every single day since.”
“Ahhh, well that mistake was most definitely mine.” I laughed, finally seeing the funny side. “And Lincoln, it is by far my greatest mistake.”
“That’s a good thing, right? This isn’t the part where you tell me you’re shacking up with Moneybags and I was just a distraction.” He grinned.
I elbowed him in the ribs, rolling my eyes. “Please, like I would. I’m dating a high-powered Boston attorney who makes CEOs cry.”
“Yeah, about that.” He grimaced, wrinkling his nose. “I no longer live in Boston and technically I no longer work at Locke and Collins.”
“What?” I coughed out, not sure which part of his statement surprised me the most. “What are you saying, Lincoln?”
He took my hands, kissing each of my knuckles. “I no longer live in Boston, Zara. I broke the contract on my apartment, paid out my lease, and packed up a big truck. Oh, and I resigned.”
“Why?” I squeaked, daring to hope it meant what I thought it did.
He smiled, the warmth of it lighting up his beautiful dark blue eyes. “Because I’m in love with this crazy woman in New York, and I was tired of breaking things apart instead of putting them together. I want to do more, Zara. I want a life that I’m proud of and not just because I make a lot of money. And that life has to include you.”
It was one of the most beautiful things someone had ever said to me, the tears I’d desperately tried to stop overflowing and falling down my cheeks. “You wouldn’t ask me to move?” I shook my head, realizing how unfair it seemed that he was making the sacrifice, taking that huge chance.
“Are you kidding?” He laughed. “My future wife is going to be a Supreme Court Justice. She’s got important work to do right where she is.”
“Future wife?” My heart skipped a beat, and not because I couldn’t see myself marrying him, but because I could. I could see all of it. Marriage, kids—holy shit, where did that come from—and growing old together. And I’d never felt that way before.
Lincoln tucked me close to his body, whispering in my ear, “yeah, you are definitely my future wife. We’ll both act surprised when I eventually ask and you say yes, and let’s face it, you already started working on our prenup. Or if you want to be the one who asks, I’m fine with that too.”
“Big of you.” I coughed out a laugh between sobs, completely and utterly sure I wanted nothing more than to be his wife. “But let’s try dating for a little while first.”
Lincoln lifted his eyes to the ceiling, shaking his head. “Now she wants me. Now I’m unemployed and homeless. I have to tell you, Zara, you’re taking this pro bono work waaaaay too seriously.”
I shrugged, unwilling to let him go. “The heart wants what the heart wants.”
And my heart wanted Lincoln.
Lincoln
“My god! My eyes!” Nate walked in dramatically, shielding his vision as he walked in. He’d been working the mid-shift at the ER and we hadn’t expected him so soon. Guess we’d lost track of time, my habit of getting Zara naked the minute she walked in the door not a great one to have when you had a roommate. “You have a bedroom, Linc. It has a door.” He shook his head while I pulled a blanket over Zara.
Since Zara had been lying on the couch with her legs wrapped around me, he hadn’t seen much, unless you counted my bare ass. But I didn’t want Nate catching a glimpse of anything more than he should, regardless of whether he wanted to or not.
Zara chuckled, adjusting the blanket so she was decent, my cock still hard and buried inside of her even though we’d been forced to stop.
Honestly, we weren’t trying to be deviants or disrespectful. But with both of us working so much, we were taking advantage of all the spare moments. And being inside Zara was one of my favorite things.
“Sorry, Nate.” I laughed, Zara playfully punching me in the chest. “I thought you weren’t back until later.”
“Sorry, Nate,” she added. “It’s Lincoln’s fault. He’s a bad influence but I promise it won’t happen again.”
“My fault?” I scoffed, knowing exactly who had started our latest naked escapade and it hadn’t been me. Not to say that I wouldn’t have if she hadn’t, but in the current instance it was Zara’s hands down the front of my pants which had stopped us from making it to my bedroom. “You want to rethink your position, counselor?”
“I don’t care who started it.” Nate stormed past, holding his hands up to his face. “But this is the third time in a month and I haven’t seen this much heterosexual sex since college. Someone needs to pay for my therapy.” He rushed into his room and slammed the door.
“I feel bad.” Zara bit her lip, her eyes darting in the direction Nate had disappeared to. “He’s been so good about letting you stay here, and it is his apartment.”
“But it’s my couch,” I shot back indignantly. “And right now.” I thrust in deeper, unable to stop despite our interruption. “I want to make love to my girlfriend on it. I’ll pay for the therapy.”
Zara’s hand slapped against her mouth, trying to stop the moan. She’d been close right before Nate had gotten home, and I was hoping I could get her back there. I loved it when she was about to come, the way her body tensed, how her breathing changed, and the desperation in her sighs. It got me so worked up, it was sometimes an effort to make sure she came first.
“Come for me, baby.” I leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “I need to feel you, Zara, to hear you. I need you so much.”
“Linc-oln.” My name breathed out as her chest rose and fell. “Oh, that feels so good.”
Don’t get me wrong, if she’d asked me to stop, I’d have done exactly that. I’d have either dealt with the painful hard-on, cursing Nate and my blue balls, or gone and jerked off in the bathroom. But Zara wasn’t some little wallflower I’d corrupted, which was why—in case anyone had forgotten—we were having sex in the living room in the first place.
“Yeah, baby. I know it feels good.” My hand dropped down between us, circling her clit. “You’re so close.”
Zara’s eyes widened, two hands clamping her mouth as she suppressed the scream. She didn’t need to tell me she was there, my cock feeling the pulsing against the shaft as she came undone. It was all I needed, following her over that cliff as I shoved my face into the back of the couch and rode it out. I wasn’t a fan of being quiet, but I wasn’t a total prick either. And Zara was right, it was still Nate’s apartment and he’d been more than generous.
“We’re so bad.” Zara kissed my chest, my skin still tingling from the amazing high. “I hope he doesn’t hate us.”
“No one could ever hate you.” I kissed the top of her head, slowly sliding out of her. “But if he’s going to blame anyone for this, it will be me.”
Once the impending orgasm had been taken care of, I’d agree it hadn’t been my finest moment. But it was hard to be rational when you were making love to the most incredible woman you’d ever met. It was more surprising that I hadn’t done more stupid shit.
Lifting my head to make sure Nate’s door was still closed, I planted my feet on the ground and lifted her off
the couch. Taking the blanket with us, I carried Zara to my closet/bedroom and laid her on my bed. “Better?” I asked, closing the door and switching on the light. “And I promise it won’t happen again.” Well . . . “Okay, I promise to try so it doesn’t happen again.”
Zara laughed, shuffling up the bed and kissing me. “I think I might have something that will help with that. Wait here a minute, okay?”
My eyes narrowed as she wrapped the blanket around her like a makeshift dress, cracking open my bedroom door and checking if the coast was clear. Satisfied that we’d traumatized Nate enough he might never leave his bedroom, she crept back out to the living room and returned shortly carrying something in her hand.
“What is that, Zara?” I stared at what looked to be a black velvet jewelry box. “Tell me it’s not what I think it is.”
I wasn’t kidding when I said I wanted to marry Zara.
Marriage, kids, a dog, getting old and arguing over television channels—the whole fantasy. But as much as I said I was okay with her asking me, I really wasn’t. And not because I was some old-fashioned asshole who didn’t believe a woman could. That was shit I didn’t and would never subscribe to. But because I wanted it to be special, with a ring that I’d had custom designed because nothing in a store window would be so uniquely her. There’d be dancing and wine—or arguing and coffee, I was a realist—and then I’d get down on my knees because that was the way I felt whenever I was not with her. It was because of her I was able to stand tall. Because of her that I was able to start over in a new city, and not worry about whether or not my career would suffer. And I wanted that for both of us.
So to see what I thought was a ring box, when I still hadn’t even found a full-time job, was not how I’d wanted that moment to go.
“Wow, are you freaking out, Lincoln?” She shoved the box behind her back, grinning like she was enjoying my anxiety. Had I mentioned my girlfriend was a sadist?
I shook my head, planting my ass on the bed and refusing to look at her. She couldn’t do it if I didn’t make eye contact, right? Who the hell proposed to someone when they weren’t looking? I’d wait her out, keeping my eyes nailed to the floor as two feet appeared in my field of vision.
