That Girl (That Girl, #1)(23)

Covering my mouth, I immediately apologize. “I’m so sorry.”

He grabs his nose and shrugs it off. “Coffee and doughnuts?”

“Coffee and doughnuts,” I finally agree.

“Damn, I’ve never had to do so much convincing to get a girl to eat a doughnut with me.”

I shake my head.

“So, these are not from the bakery or coffee shop you work at because it was closed. Hope they’ll do.”

“You could’ve come without them, and I’d have been fine with that,” I say, blushing hard with every single word.

There it was. I laid it out there. No choice when it came to Lincoln. I leapt.

“Good to know,” he answers. “So, these questions I have to ask. They are the deal breaker type.”

Groaning, I lay my head down on the table and steady my feet.

“Question number one, bacon or sausage?”

Lifting my head, I ask, “Are you serious?”

“Yep, have to know.”

“I may survive this,” I laugh. “Sausage. Only links, though.”

“Interesting. Now question number two. What’s your favorite professional football team?”

With a deer in the headlights look, I frantically wrack my brain to come up with a team name. I don’t even come close to finding one as the seconds tick by.

Turning the tables, I say, “You tell me.”

“Denver.”

“Duh, it’s always been Denver. Diehard fan here.”

Lincoln chuckles and feeds me a bite of a doughnut, and holy shit, it’s heaven in dough. A raspberry cream cheese filled doughnut with a light chocolate icing.

“Good girl. Okay, last question. Have you ever shit yourself in a public place?”

“What?” I squeal.

He raises an eyebrow. “Well, have you?”

“No, well, possibly in kindergarten, but that’s it,” I answer.

“I think we’ll work out just fine then.”

“Those were your questions?”

“Yep, it’s all I need to know about you.”

“Really?”

“For reals. Now eat a doughnut and relax.”

“Tell me about football,” I say.

“What do you want to know?” Lincoln asks around a mouthful of doughnut.

“Everything.”

Lincoln straddles the bench, drags me closer, and begins to ramble on about football. I catch the words defense, ball, interceptions, and safety. I listen, trying to soak up the meaning and purpose of the words and their correlation to football. For sure, I’ll be Googling some of the terms tomorrow at the coffee shop. There’s happiness in Lincoln’s voice when he talks about football.

Finally, when he takes a breath, I say, “You really love football.”

“Yeah, it’s my life. I’ll never be as good as my dad or brother, but I love the game. Live for it. It’s all I have.”

“Why do you feel that way about your dad and brother?”

“You see, they are quarterbacks. They lead their teams. My dad holds several records in that position, and my brother is right on the heels of breaking them. Dad’s pride for Levi is off the charts. He f*cking loves Levi. Neither of my parents miss a game of his, only sport his team colors. Hell, they are already down in Dallas to watch over him at training camp.”

“Have you talked to your dad about it?” I lean in closer and let Lincoln wrap me up into him.

“I’ve tried, and his only response is that newscasters don’t even know he has another son.”

“And your mom?”

“She follows my dad’s leads. She’s only worried about looks and labels. If I’m being honest, that’s why I only wear gym clothes everywhere, to piss her off.”

“I can see why you rebelled in high school, that’s for sure.” I finish my coffee and study his face.

“Yeah, that’s just the surface of the shit too.”

“So, I do know there’s offense and defense, but explain to me exactly what that is.”

“You crack me up, girl,” he says, placing a kiss on the top of my head, “Well, Levi is a quarterback, he throws the ball and is on offense. Offense scores the points. I’m on defense. We try and stop the other team’s offense from scoring points.”

“Score, I was right. That’s exactly what I thought it was.”

He chuckles. “You’re full of shit too.”

“What?” I feign innocence and sit up. “Test me, then.”

“Okay, what part of the field do I play?”

“Defense.”

“More specific.”

“You’re the right safety and love catching interceptions. You said the offense scores, but I’d like to correct you. The defense can score, too, when they have a kickass safety named Lincoln.”

“And?” He makes a gesture with his hand, encouraging me to continue.

“And what?”

“And what other position can catch interceptions?”

“That’s all I gathered. Hell, I was proud of what I did put together from you explaining it.”

“I’m not gonna lie, Oakley. I’m impressed you’re a Denver fan, love sausage links, and have never shit your pants other than kindergarten. I may have just fallen in love with you.”