The Help (Kings of Linwood Academy, #1)(49)

When I leave the school building and walk down the wide front steps, Lincoln is right there waiting. He has a cranky look on his face, and it makes me want to scratch his fucking eyes out. He’s mad at me?

I don’t say a word as I walk past him, heading toward his car, and I can feel his irritation ratchet up as he turns to keep pace alongside me. We both slide into the vehicle without speaking, and the entire ride home is steeped in silence.

When we’re about halfway back, my phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out, still pointedly ignoring Lincoln.

MOM: Hey Low. I’m heading out to meet Celeste for coffee. We’ve been trying to make it happen forever and she’s finally got a free afternoon. Be back by dinner, so leave some chores for me and I’ll get to them tonight xoxo

ME: Okay. Have fun

I hope she does have fun, and that seeing her old college friend doesn’t make her regret the direction her life has gone. But I also wish she’d be home when I got there. I want to curl up on her couch and watch movies and forget the fucking world for a while.

The tense, almost painful silence lasts until Lincoln parks the car in one of the garages and turns off the engine. For a second, he just sits there, still holding the key in the ignition. Then he turns sharply toward me.

“What?” he demands.

He’s obviously annoyed, but for once, worry about pissing him off is the furthest thing from my mind.

I meet his leonine amber gaze, shifting in the seat to face him fully. “Iris was pregnant.”

His brows pull together, the anger on his face evaporating into confusion. “What?”

“Oh, you didn’t know? I’m surprised to hear that, considering you fucking dated her.”

His expression changes again, and I can tell this isn’t at all what he was expecting this conversation to be about. “Who told you that?”

“That’s what you’re concerned about?” I let out a harsh laugh, then turn and yank on the door handle. Fuck it. Mom isn’t home, but I can still curl up on her couch under a pile of blankets and try to forget this day ever happened.

I make a beeline for the side door of the mansion, but before I reach it, I hear Lincoln’s car door slam behind me. As I push inside the house, he’s right on my heels.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m concerned about. Because whoever’s going around saying that is spreading a load of bullshit. We hooked up twice last year. We never dated, and I stopped doing anything with her when I realized how manipulative she was.”

“That’s not the fucking point!” I whirl on him as we enter the foyer, the sound of my voice echoing in the large, empty space. No one’s around to hear us, and thank God for that, because I can’t keep my volume down. Fury is bubbling in my veins, urged on by other emotions I don’t even fully understand. “It doesn’t matter what you call it! You should’ve told me! You really didn’t think that was relevant information?”

“No.” His voice is hard, his gaze harder. “I didn’t. It wasn’t your fucking business, and it had nothing to do with what happened to her.”

“Oh really?” I hiss. “Well, maybe it had something to do with why you refused to report what we saw! Here I thought you were doing the noble thing, trying to protect your friends, and the whole time, all you were doing was covering your own damn ass!”

“You’re wrong, Harlow.” He’s breathing harder, his nostrils flaring. He looks dangerous and wild. “You don’t even know how wrong.”

“I don’t know anything!” I yell. “Because you never tell me. You act like I’m part of this, but I’m just the fucking help! Someone you can treat like shit when you feel like and be nice to whenever it serves your needs. Someone you can boss around and use and—”

I never get to finish that sentence, because in two strides, Lincoln closes the distance between us and kisses me. Hard.

This kiss isn’t the end of our fight, it’s a continuation of it, and his lips press against mine with bruising intensity, like he’s trying to shut me up and prove something to me at the same time. My body goes rigid with shock for a second, but then it responds with a fierceness that surprises even me. My hands thread through his hair, gripping the roots like I’m trying to yank the strands out, as I attack his mouth with lips, teeth, and tongue.

It’s not a sweet kiss.

It’s not even a hot kiss.

It’s more like a natural disaster, a tornado tearing through the landscape, destroying everything in its path and leaving the world as it once existed in ruins.

It’s fire.

It’s pain.

It’s need.

I’m clawing at Lincoln’s scalp, trying to climb his body, gasping and panting and making low, incoherent noises. His large hands are everywhere—sliding over my ass, my hips, my waist, the sides of my breasts—as he kisses me like a starving man.

Then suddenly, his hands are on my shoulders, pushing me away.

I almost stumble as he shoves me back, breaking my hold on him. His hair is wild from my fingers, his face flushed, and his lips swollen from the attack. He blinks at me like he can’t believe what just happened, like he’s not sure how I got here, or how he got here, or who either of us are.

He looks almost… scared.

His gaze shutters as he takes another step away from me, shaking his head. “It’s none of your business who I fucked, Pool Girl. If it was important, I would’ve told you. But you didn’t need to know.”