Page 77 of The Captain

“Hello, Sunshine,” he said, making chills break out over my arms.

It wasn’t okay that my body had such a reaction to him. I needed to chill out, be calm, and not let him get to me.

“Hello,” I replied, trying to appear cool. It was likely failing, but hey, I put in the effort.

“Want a drink?” Lincoln asked, gesturing with the red cup already in his hand over to the area I assumed their kitchen was.

I didn’t really want a drink, but I remember once someone telling me that if I was ever nervous at a party, to get myself a drink. Even if I didn’t drink at all, having something in your hand helped.

So I nodded and followed him to the kitchen. He reached his hand back toward me as we wound through the crowd, and I stared at it for a moment before I looked at the back of his head. Only he wasn’t looking forward, he was looking back at me with a grin that could only be described as trouble.

“Come on, I don’t bite,” he said, wiggling his fingers at me.

“Sure, you don’t,” I said in a moment of false confidence.

His grin widened, and I noticed how great his smile was. It was really fantastic, and he seemed to do it often.

I liked when a guy smiled.

I slipped my hand into his when someone fell into me, and he pulled me to him, practically tugging me to his side to save me from getting smashed into a wall.

We found our way through the kitchen, and I looked for Victoria to no avail, she must have found someone to disappear with. I was only partially annoyed until Lincoln turned his attention to me and asked what I wanted to drink.

“You don’t seem like a beer girl,” he announced, like he knew I didn’t want to drink and was only trying to be polite.

“I’m not really an alcohol girl.” Unless it was a very fruity, girly drink, but I wasn’t about to admit that to him right now.

“Okay.” He headed to the fridge and opened it, holding up a can of soda and a bottle of water. “Neither are opened, so take your pick.”

I appreciated the gesture and gratefully took the bottle of water.

“Perfect.” He replaced the can and turned to me, a spark in his eye. “Have you ever played beer pong?”

I tilted my head to the side. “Um, no.”

“Well.” He faked cracking his knuckles and neck, then gave me a look that made me laugh. “Get ready to get blown away. Come on.” He reached for my hand, and I placed mine in his with much less hesitation this time, my stomach rioting with those pesky butterflies yet again. “I need a partner.”

A while later, after we played three rounds of beer pong and Lincoln and I absolutely lost all three rounds, he was completely hammered and I had to use the bathroom.

I smiled to myself as I washed my hands, wondering if he knew how much he’d been touching me all night. He’d steady me by holding his hands on my hips, even though he was the one taking all the drinks to save me from having to do it.

Then, when it was his turn, he jokingly made me hold his hips, making me laugh.

When we’d hit a ping pong ball into the cup of the other team, he’d celebrate like he just won the Stanley Cup and swing me into his arms, placing a kiss on my cheek that made me blush every time.

And this last time, he’d placed the kiss so close to my lips that I’d been prepared for it to turn into more.

Finished, I turned out the light in the bathroom and headed toward the living room, where I left him on the couch. The party was still in full swing, and I saw Vic dancing with some guy.

She gave me a little wave, and I headed back toward the couch, eager to continue my night with Lincoln.

But when the couch came into view, everything in me stopped cold.

Because on the couch was Lincoln, and on his lap—actually straddling his lap—was a girl with long blonde hair and her mouth firmly attached to the one that had just been pressed to my cheek.

I felt mortified.

There was no one to turn to, no one to ask for help, and thankfully, no one to see how humiliated I was.

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