I wasn’t lying to Zeke, either. I still want her. I wanted her after I had her—hell, I was looking forward to seeing her again. Then, shit went south. Now, I somehow made bad get even worse.
I’m pulled away from my misery when someone knocks on my door. I’m definitely not up for company. Zeke mentioned he might come by tonight, but damn, I’m really not in the mood for company. Another knock, this one more insistent, gets me moving. I stand up, ignoring the way my head pounds with the movement. I wince as I make it to the door, my eyes closing against the sun outside. I don’t know how much beer I drank last night, but apparently, it was a fuck of a lot.
“Listen, Zeke—”
“Delivery from Virgin Street Diner,” the peppy woman says, holding out a to-go bag.
“I uh… didn’t order delivery—”
“You’re Lincoln Locke, right?”
“Well, yeah, but I didn’t order food.”
“It says you did,” she shrugs.
“Okay, how much do I owe you?” I ask the question to the girl’s back because she’s already turned around.
“It was paid for in advance, even the tip!”
I frown but close the door and put the bag on the cheap-ass table that’s in the corner of my small ass apartment. My phone starts ringing, and I pick it up, glancing at the ID and seeing Zeke’s name pop up.
“Dude—”
“What in the hell are you doing? The last thing I want is food right now,” I grumble.
“How do you know it was from me?” Zeke laughs.
“Because if it wasn’t, you wouldn’t be calling me right now.”
“It could be coincidence,” he laughs.
“And you could be a great guy and not an asshole, but…”
“Ouch. Fine, it was me. I thought you’d like to have real food instead of beer tonight.”
“I saw and from the Virgin Street Diner.”
“You caught that, did you?” he laughs.
“Yeah, I caught it, bastard,” I gripe, which just makes him laugh harder.
“I have one more surprise in store for you tonight. So, if it shows up, play along and be the nice guy that I know you can be.”
“What kind of surprise?” I ask, seriously concerned now.
“You’ll see. Just make sure you play along and don’t cut your nose off to spite your face.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“No idea, but my grandmother used to say it all the time.”
“Jesus.”
“Later, Linc,” Zeke says, and he hangs up before I can respond. I toss the phone on my bed, which is actually a fold-out couch. If I’m going to stay in Cherry Falls, I need to be looking for a better place. Beach front is awesome, but a nicer apartment would be better for the long term.
I look at the food, wondering if I should try to eat. It sounds miserable right now, but maybe in a bit…
There’s another knock on the door and I put my head down and pinch the bridge of my nose. I’m almost afraid to see what Zeke has done now. He was way too vague for my liking. I walk slowly to the door and I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t Jodie Jones standing at my door. She’s gorgeous, her long dark hair straight and flowing down her back. She’s wearing jeans and a purple shirt that hugs her breasts perfectly. She’s not wearing makeup, but then, Jodie doesn’t need it. I’m trying to find my voice so that I can talk to her, but she doesn’t give me that chance.
“You are not knotted up inside of me!” she huffs.
What the fuck?
11
Jodie
“Do you always have to blurt things out?” Linc growls, looking around at the people outside his apartment. I can see more than a few, but I ignore them.
“Seems I do it when you’re involved,” I snap as he slams the door.
He winces instantly with the closing of the door. I guess Bella wasn’t lying when she talked about Linc being hungover. Serves him right.
“What have I done to upset you now?”
“You sent me flowers!”
He looks taken aback. His face goes blank, and he just stares at me.
“Did you hear me?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything.
“Sweetheart, I hear you. I’m pretty sure my neighbors hear you, too.”
“You had no right!”
“Jodie, baby, I thought girls liked getting flowers.”
“They do if they’re given from the heart,” I tell him, but I doubt he gets it. “And don’t call me baby,” I add, hating that he can use it as a throwaway endearment, and it still makes me tremble inside. There must be something wrong with me that I react to him—especially after all of this.
“You really need to learn how to let your hair down and loosen up, Jodie.”
“The last time I did that it became the biggest mistake of my life.”
He stares at me and then just sighs.
“Are you hungry?”
“Just because you invited me over for dinner doesn’t mean I’m here to actually eat.”
“I invited you over for dinner,” he repeats, just staring at me.
“I just said that.”
“Well, I’m hungry and you’re here, and I have the food from the diner in town. So, why don’t we eat?”
“You invited me over for dinner and it’s just takeout?”
“Trust me, Jodie girl, you’d rather have takeout than anything I can cook,” he says, and I need to tell him to stop calling me that nickname. He used it when we met, and I thought it was sweet. Now, I find I still like it and I don’t make him stop. I’m sure that’s just proof that I should do my best to keep my distance from Lincoln Locke.
That means it’s really surprising when I open my mouth to tell him no way—and instead agree.
“I guess I am hungry.”
He grins at me and I mentally kick myself. I obviously can’t be trusted around this man.
“Good. Grab a seat and I’ll get our food,” he says, and I can’t believe what I’m doing—in fact, I want to kick myself, but I look around the apartment and go to the tiny bistro table in the corner. “Shit, don’t sit there,” he says, and I immediately stop moving. “I can’t be sure one of those seats would even hold you up,” he adds. My body immediately tightens, and I feel my face heat. “Here,” he says and starts moving toward his bed.
“Uh, no. I think I’ll just leave,” I mumble as I turn toward the door.
He looks up at me in surprise. I guess he would be surprised. Apparently, not many women turn down the chance to be in his bed. I wish I had known that before spending the night with him.
“Wait, I just meant the couch,” he says, and he folds it in to prove it.
“I’m not a size zero like your usual women, but I seriously doubt I’d break a chair down,” I mutter, wondering why in the hell I’m not just leaving.
“Jesus, I know I’ve been an idiot when it comes to you, but I wasn’t calling you fat. The landlord—who is eighty if he’s a day—put those together and they almost fall apart when you pull one out.”