Fucking Karma. She just can’t leave me be.

“I already know you want me to leave! I get it. You don’t have to tell me again!”

The door opens, and I curse the fact that it doesn’t have a lock. I shut the water off and grab for my towel . . . which I left on the futon. I poke my head around the shower curtain, expecting to see my cousin’s gloating face. But I’m absolutely and completely wrong.

“That’s not what I want. Not at all.”

Lincoln.

The shock of seeing him standing there sends a jolt through my system. I stumble backward and my feet slide out from under me. I grab the shower curtain, and it tears off the clips as I fall. Before I hit the floor, strong arms wrap around my body.

“I got you, Blue.”

For the space of two heartbeats, I can’t make myself struggle free. Just hearing my nickname on his lips again brings back more memories than I can handle. I forgot what it’s like to be this close to him. The kiss earlier wasn’t enough.

The kiss that happened after I gave his mother a heart attack.

I stumble out of his arms, the shower curtain wrapped around me. “What are you doing here?” It comes out as a demand.

“Where else would I go?”

“To your family. Your mother. Is she . . .” I brace for the answer, expecting the worst.

“She’s fine. Panic attack.”

I release a pent-up breath. “Thank God.”

“I’m more worried about you right now.”

I stare into Lincoln’s eyes, trying to decide if this is just another game and what his angle is. “I’m fine. I don’t need you worrying about me.”

He nods, and I try to think of all the things I’ve waited years to say to him. I try to picture all the ways I’ve imagined this moment, just like I imagined coming back to Gable in high style and making everyone regret how they mistreated me and my family. But my mind goes blank because all I can think about is how good it felt to have someone stronger than me catch me when I fall.

How pathetic is that?

Tears burn the back of my eyes, and it’s a losing battle. I can’t stop them from falling.

I tuck my chin to my chest and let them fall. But my silent tears don’t escape his notice.

“It guts me to see you cry.”

“Then leave.” I sniffle as I give the order.

“That’s not gonna happen. Not this time.”

Thirty-Three

Lincoln

I step closer. When Whitney doesn’t bolt, I wipe her tears away, just like I’ve done before, but everything is different this time. I fucking swear it will be.

As my thumb sweeps along her cheekbone, Whitney flinches. I tuck her hair behind her ear and look closer. The greenish purple is unmistakably a fading bruise. Instantly, rage grips me.

“Who the fuck hit you?”

Whitney jerks her head back, letting her hair fall forward to cover it again. “It doesn’t matter.”