Page 39 of The Captain

Lincoln looked down at his bare arms. “I’ve always wanted tattoos but never really knew what to get.”

“Well, you just have to get something that means something to you. And don’t let anyone tell you it’s dumb.” I’d heard that about mine before. “You get tattoos for yourself, not for anyone else.”

He hummed in his throat. “Do you have a favorite book?”

I blinked and bit my lip. “That’s a loaded question.” He smiled at me so kindly and genuinely that something in my chest gave a little tug.

“Too many to choose from?”

I leaned against the back of the couch. “It’s not that. I love books for more than one reason. So some books are my favorites because of the plot, some because I relate to the characters the most, some because of the feelings it gives me. I’ve loved a book solely based on the vibes it gives off.”

“Huh,” he said, tilting his head as if in deep thought. I worried that my explanation was too long, too complicated, and, mostly, very nerdy.

This was why I was choosy about who I shared with.

“Sounds cool. I never really got into reading, but you make it sound good,” he replied, shocking me.

“Really?”

Lincoln looked at me. “Yup. And I know where I want to start.”

“Where?”

“With your book.”

My heart jackhammered in my chest, anxiety gripping me at the thought of having to share my world with him. I mean, it wasn’t really my world, it was my imagination’s world. It was a world I’d love to share with others one day.

But Lincoln?

“I don’t think so, Muscles.”

“Oh, come on.” He gripped my foot tighter; I’d almost forgotten that he was holding it. “Don’t make me beg.”

I lifted a brow, the image of him begging simultaneously made me smile and flush.

“Oh wow, I know that look.” He sat up off the couch and kneeled on the floor in front of the couch.

“No, don’t.” I laughed, my blush tracking down into my chest now.

“Cassandra Cassie-Poo Grayson, please, pretty please, with cherries and chocolate on top, let me read your book.” His body was pressed against the couch, his height making him nearly eye-level with me, and he wrapped his larger hands around my knee where I had it bent up on the couch.

I smiled and didn’t know how to stop. I smiled and begged myself to hate this man in front of me.

He’d fucked up before, he’d hurt my feelings before, he’s been my enemy for over two years because of what he did…

So why was I caving?

You know why you are.

“Please,” he said again, this time pouting his bottom lip, and before I knew what I was doing, I poked it with my finger, and he nipped at me.

“Stop!” I laughed and let my head fall back to the couch. “Fine. You can read it.”

“Yes!” He pumped his fist and stood, pulling me up to stand.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re going to give me that book.” Before I knew what he was doing, he leaned down, put his shoulder into my stomach, and hoisted me over his shoulder. I squealed and gently tossed my book on the couch, hoping it wouldn’t crash to the floor.

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