The Relationship Pact(29)

“Ugh,” she groans, looking at the giant chandelier hanging over our heads.

“Because, if you were, I’m technically not an athlete anymore. My season is over. So if you wanna …”

Before I can get the thought out, the door swings open. Lincoln greets us with a broad, genuine smile.

“Hey, Hollis,” he says, extending a hand. It’s good to see you. Thanks for coming, man.”

We shake hands. Lincoln steps to the side to allow us to enter his home. I look at Larissa and wait for her to enter first.

“Don’t I know you?” Lincoln asks as she walks by.

She smiles up at him adoringly. “Yes. I’m Larissa Mason. Coy Mason’s cousin.”

He tilts his head back and laughs. “That’s right. Coy Mason. How the hell is he, anyway?”

“He’s okay. He’s Coy, so you know how that goes.”

“That I do. Just saw him on the television a couple of days ago on one of those entertainment news reports, actually. And I hear him on the radio all the damn time. Danielle loves his music.” Lincoln shuts the door behind me. “How do the two of you know each other?”

“We met in a bar,” I say, figuring it’s best to leave it simple and as vague as possible.

Lincoln looks at Larissa and winks. “I won’t tell your cousins that you’re picking up men in bars.”

She grins. “I’d appreciate that.”

He turns and heads down a long hallway, motioning for us to follow. “Come on. Let’s get some food.”

The house smells warm, like apples and cinnamon, and it’s precisely what I imagine the homes smelling like in the old fifties sitcoms I watch late at night.

The hallway is decorated with pictures and random art pieces that make no sense to me. Music, I understand. Abstract art? Not even a little bit.

A living room sits to our left. It’s painted light yellow and has oversized green couches facing a fireplace. On the right is a long dining room that looks like something out of a magazine that I would flip through at the doctor’s office. It’s immaculate, yet you can tell by the little touches of personal effects that people live here.

I look down at Larissa to see her watching me. She smiles.

“Hollis, Larissa, meet my wife, Danielle,” Lincoln says as we enter the kitchen.

A woman much shorter than Lincoln is standing in front of a counter. Pizza boxes are lined up behind her as she watches us walk in.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Hollis,” she says. After wiping her hands on a white towel, she tosses it over her shoulder. “I’m so glad you could make it tonight.”

Her energy is a bit shocking as she heads my way, and I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. I half-assed stick my hand out in case she wants to shake it—in case that’s what I’m supposed to do. But she bypasses it all together and pulls me into a hug.

My body goes stiff as I look over her head at her husband. I keep my arms at my sides.

She pulls back and smiles before turning to Larissa.

“And you,” Danielle says, “have to be Sigourney Mason’s daughter? Niece, maybe? I know I’ve seen you around.”

“Siggy is my aunt,” Larissa says easily. “Although we’re both blond with green eyes, so you’re not the first person to ask if we’re related.” She takes a bottle of wine out of her purse like some kind of fucking magician. “We brought you this.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Danielle coos, taking the wine from Larissa. She sets it on the counter. “I just love Siggy and her shop. I go in there all the time—”

“She’s not lying,” Lincoln chimes in.

Danielle rolls her eyes. “Ignore him. He’s just upset I put him on a budget.”

I can’t help but laugh at the look on Lincoln’s face. He glares playfully at the back of his wife.

It reminds me of Kim and Philip, the last foster family I stayed with. She definitely called the shots in that dynamic. It was hilarious because Philip was loud and slightly obnoxious, and Kim was this tiny little thing. But she could bend Philip to her will without saying a word.

There was something extraordinary about their relationship. There was something special about their family as a whole.

And the whole memory of them feels like a stake being shoved right through my heart.

I shake away all of that and focus on what Lincoln is saying.

“Hollis, come on over here and fill your plate,” he says. “We aren’t fancy around here. Just make yourself at home.”

I glance over my shoulder. Larissa and Danielle are in an animated conversation about jewelry, and I don’t really know what to do. Do I just grab a plate and put pizza on it? Do I need to wait for someone to give me a plate? I don’t know how to make myself at home in a place like this.

Larissa catches my eye. With the skill of a master, she scoots away from Danielle and toward me without missing a beat.

“I prefer rose gold,” she tells Danielle. “But I really don’t love expensive jewelry. I’m always afraid I’ll lose it, and the stress isn’t worth it to me.” She stops next to me. “Are you hungry?”

I nod.

She pats me on the shoulder. “I heard your stomach rumbling in the car.”

She’s lying because I’m not even hungry. But I appreciate how she seems to know that I’m a bit out of my element here.