Lincoln texts when he’s outside, and I scurry to the door, unlocking it, then stepping to the side to allow him room to come in. A dark beanie covers his head, and a black coat is tight over his muscles.

He wastes no time before ducking his head down to press his lips against mine. “Hey, babe.”

“Hi.” I peek up at him, blinking, as an abrupt wave of shyness hits me.

“Let’s see this bedroom of yours.”

He tosses his overnight bag over his shoulder and interlaces our fingers, and I lead him to my new bedroom. The room is a decent size—larger than my old apartment and bedroom at the sorority house, but not as big as the one I had growing up. As the daughter of the town’s mayor, I lived somewhat of a privileged life.

After pushing my queen-size bed in, there wasn’t much room for more furniture. A simple white nightstand sits next to one side of the bed, and I have a standing mirror against a wall along with my desk.

Breaking away, I jerk my thumb toward his bag. “A little overeager there with the overnight bag, huh?”

He chuckles, slightly holding up the bag. “Eh, I figured you’d need assistance with testing out your new bedroom.”

“Fine.” I dramatically groan while fighting back a smile. “For testing purposes, I’ll allow it.”

To be honest, I’d have been disappointed had he not planned to spend the night since that’s what he’s done the past few nights.

I wonder where Georgia and Archer think he’s staying.

Do they even keep tabs on him like that?

Lincoln drops his bag onto the floor and does a once-over of the room. “This is cute, babe.”

“Thank you.” I shut the door behind us. “Hopefully, I can see yours soon.”

“You can come over anytime you want.” Wandering into the room, he takes a seat on the edge of my bed, over the white duvet cover. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and focuses on me. “Cass, you know I always want to be honest with you.”

I freeze, my pulse thrumming in uneasiness. “Good.” I clear my throat and lower my voice. “I want you to always be honest with me.”

Surely, he wouldn’t have packed an overnight bag if he planned to bail on me tonight?

Unless he just changed his mind at the last minute.

There’s a brief stillness, a lapse of time where he gathers his words. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

I clasp my hands together, hold them to the front of my body, and for some reason, prepare for the worst. “Okay …”

“I’m a felon.”

The three words are a fist crushing my soul.

The memories of what happened with Quinton crawl through my thoughts.

No.

Just when I thought Lincoln was different, he tells me that.