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At the same moment, I shiver from a cool gust of wind. No part of me is in the mood to take a taxi, but I’d also rather walk home than get in his extravagant car. I attempt to walk again when his voice turns soft.
“Nevaeh, let me take you home.”
I take a deep breath before turning around and stepping toward him. He’s leaning against his Grenzenlos sports car, arms crossed in front of his chest. Whether I’d like to admit it or not, he radiates hotness with that seductive smirk and confident stance.
Instead of talking to him, I simply get into his car and enjoy the warmth. He’s chuckling as he sits down next to me. My fingers fumble around in my bag in search of a distraction. I take out my article to study the comments Gillian left for me.
“How was your first day at work?” Lincoln asks after being able to keep quiet for an impressive five seconds.
“Why are you talking to me?” I challenge, and his lips curl into a smile.
“Because you hate small talk. So, how was your day?”
He’s right. I absolutely hate small talk, especially with someone I dislike. Lincoln checks both boxes at the moment. I should ignore him, but if I do, I would do exactly what he expects. If I don’t, I’ll have to converse with him.
Either way, I lose, which is exactly what he wants.
“My day was great. I got a lot of training done, and Kellan, my performance coach, is happy with my progress,” Lincoln informs me when I take too long to answer.
“It’s good that you’re making progress in one area of your life, considering that your maturity level keeps dropping with every interaction between us.”
He chuckles at my response, which only pisses me off more. I don’t know what it is about him and the need to bother me. After all, Lincoln is the one who fucked up our friendship, not me. I used to care about him before everything went to shit between us.
He was my best friend.
“I’m very proud of you for getting this job, Nevs. I think you’re going to do great.” His words startle me. They’re sincere, and I can read on his frustratingly handsome face that he means them, which is why Inearlyregret my next words.
“And you think I give a shit if you’re proud of me?” His face falls, making pain shoot through my chest. I forget how to breathe, too surprised by the way my heart responds to hurting his feelings.
“You used to care…” He trails off, his hands securely placed on the steering wheel and his eyes fixated on the icy road ahead of us. It hasn’t snowed in a few hours, but the roads are not entirely safe to drive on. “I don’t know how many times I can apologize until you forgive me,” he complains, and all feelings of compassion evaporate off my skin as anger replaces them.
“How about you start by actually apologizing, Linc?” I suggest while he parks the car in front of my house.
His head turns in my direction, showing me that his bottom lip is tucked between his teeth and his full eyebrows are furrowed.Why the hell is he confused?I know he’s not stupid, he was at the top of his class when he graduated high school.
“What? You don’t believe me that you never apologized? Well, look back at every interaction we had sincethatday, you never did.” I open his car door and attempt to get out when he grabs my wrist and drags me back inside the car.
“You can’t keep running away from me, Nevs. We have to talk this out,” he says, and while I agree, he still hasn’t said the one thing I need to hear from him.
“We can talk this out when you’ve grown up and learned that what you did was wrong. Until then, you’ll remain a stranger to me.” Lincoln lets go of my wrist but his hazel eyes have a different hold on me. Their familiarity makes me want to stay and figure out how to fix this horrible situation between us.
“You’ll never forgive me, butterfly, whether I apologize or not. The sooner you stop lying to yourself about that, the sooner you’ll realize you have to let go of your hatred to be ready to hear my apology.” Lincoln has lost his goddamn mind. It’s the only logical explanation I have for the nonsense coming out of his mouth.
“Next time, don’t pick me up, jerk,” I say before getting out.
I would slam the door if I didn’t love his car and wished I could drive the same. That’s the benefit of being a Formula One driver for the Grenzenlos team. They give you the newest models to advertise.
I rush inside to lock the door and let my racing heart find its normal rhythm. My anxiety has spiked so high from our conversation, my hands are shaking again. I hate confrontation. It always makes my skin crawl, panic filling me from top to bottom. One would think after all my fights with Lincoln it’d get easier, but it never does.
“Are you okay? Your cheeks are all flushed,” Nova says, and I jump.
“I’m fine,” I reply while my voice betrays me and cracks.
If there is one person in the world I cannot lie to, it’s Nova. My sister wraps her arm around my shoulders and pulls me close.
“Okay, don’t tell me, but I would like to hear about your first day while we drink some tea and eat the scones Aileen baked.” Nova pulls me into the kitchen and toward her girlfriend, who is busy finishing the goodies she prepared.
My sister wraps her long arms around Aileen’s waist, and I settle down on one of the chairs at the kitchen table. Our modern-styled kitchen has too many mahogany cupboards and only the newest appliances. What for, I have no idea. I’m useless in the kitchen, neither a good baker nor a good cook, just like most of my family. But Aileen loves it here. Her flat barely has a stove or space for one. That’s why Nova insists on her coming over so much, and none of us mind.
