“Hello? Earth to Linc?”
I shake my head, bringing my thoughts back to reality. “Right. Have you ever lived with someone before? Usually it helps to set some basic boundaries.”
She nods her head. “I lived with my ex-fiancé for two years. I think I know how to nicely share space with someone.”
I let out a sharp laugh. “Ex? What did you do, run him off with that sharp tongue of yours?”
She stands abruptly from the table. The flash of fury in her eyes sets me back a bit and the venom in her voice chills my blood. “How’s this for a rule? Stay the f**k away from me, ass**le.”
I’m stunned as she bolts from the room but I’m on my feet in two seconds running after her. She almost makes it to her bedroom when I grab her arm to stop her in her tracks. She spins on me quickly and snarls, “Get your hand off me.”
I immediately release her and hold my hands up. “I’m sorry,” I say quickly before she can bolt again. “That was uncalled for...what I said.”
She stares at me, her chest heaving a bit from anger. Her impossibly blue eyes are just staring at me. She’s calculating whether to accept my apology, I can tell, and that doesn’t look to be forthcoming.
“Ever...I’m really sorry. That was rude and if my dad was here and heard me say that, he would have smacked me upside the head. I know better. I’m still angry about the article and I took it out on you unfairly.”
My words penetrate. I can tell she accepts them by the way the glow in her eyes dies down. I’m glad because they were the truth. That was a complete ass**le move and my father would have read me the riot act. I was raised better than that.
She takes in a deep breath and I’d have to be dead and buried not to notice the way her br**sts heave under Hello Kitty.
“Fine,” she says. “Apology accepted.”
“Really? We’re okay?”
She sighs again and her voice is weary. “No, we aren’t okay, Linc. I’ve pissed you off, you’ve pissed me off, and we’re both stuck in a shitty situation. It’s not okay. But I guess I’ll try to make the best of it.”
A short breath comes out of my mouth in relief, and I hadn’t realized I had been holding it to see what she would say. Technically, I can’t hold her here. If she really insists on not fulfilling this obligation, I’d release her from it. I thought I did, but I really don’t want her to be miserable. I just want her to see that she was wrong about me, and I’m apparently not off to a great start.
Just this morning, as I was meeting with Selly, I had nothing but vengeance on my mind. I wanted to make her feel wretched. I wanted to take away her prime assignment to L.A. and make her watch me for six weeks so she would know I was a decent guy.
Now? I’m feeling terrible for what I just said and slightly guilty for causing her to miss out on something that could have furthered her career. However, I’m feeling no less desirous of her seeing the real Linc Caldwell. That’s something I’m not going to compromise on and that wins out over my guilt right now.
I just need to figure out how to be myself without pissing her off any further.
9
“Rise and shine. Time to get up.”
I bolt upright in bed, holding my covers to my chest while Linc Caldwell stands inside my bedroom. I don’t have my contacts in and he’s a little blurry on around the edges, but he radiates sex appeal nonetheless. That I can see well enough. And it doesn’t help that he woke me up out of a sound sleep where I had just happened to be dreaming about the infuriatingly, sexy man. In a very naughty way.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” I hope my anger diffuses the lingering feelings of lust I was feeling and glad my first conscious reaction was to pull the blanket up. I’m sure my ni**les are as hard as rocks right now.
With disgusting cheerfulness, he says, “We got places to go, people to see. Get up and get dressed. Breakfast is in ten minutes.”
I glance at the clock on the table beside me. It’s freakin’ 6:30am.
Stifling a yawn, I ask, “What could you possibly need to do this early in the morning? Aren’t you like on vacation until hockey starts back up?”
He rolls his eyes at me. “You clearly know nothing about professional hockey. Come get some breakfast and I’ll go over my schedule with you.”
Linc walks out, shutting the door behind him.
I lay back on my pillow and briefly consider going back to sleep. Despite the lovely dream I had been having just a few minutes ago, I had tossed and turned all night, replaying over and over in my head everything that has happened to me in the last few days. I’m heartsick that I lost the L.A. assignment. I want to be pissed at Linc for getting me in this situation, but I can’t ignore the fact that the article I wrote got me in this situation. Linc may be a slime ball but he didn’t make me write that story. And while it was an opinion piece, I may have stretched the truth a bit and I certainly disregarded his wishes about keeping the shoe story off the record.
And the guilt from that is actually starting to really weigh on me. How could I possibly want to be a legitimate journalist if I stretch my ethics just because some guy got my panties in a twist? It was beyond reprehensible and I’m feeling very low about myself.
I think about my mother. My dear, sweet, sweet mom. She’s a miracle of life and my inspiration. She’s been in remission from breast cancer for close to five years now. She’s had her body brutalized by chemo and radiation. She’s had her br**sts removed. She faces the uncertainty that death may be around the corner, and yet she refuses to let any of that get her down.