That Girl (That Girl, #1)(33)

Lincoln finally speaks up. “We love you, Jewels, and will always be here by your side.”

“I know,” she says, “I’m just scared to tell my dad and professors. I’ll never…”

“Enough,” Tiny barks.

Being the queen of swift subject change, I throw out a roadblock, “I secretly love to smell ice cream.”

All three heads abruptly swivel my way with “what the f*ck” expressions across their faces.

“You know the little high you get when you smell it, and it’s so cold it sends little chills up your nose. Maple nut is the best.”

They’re still silent.

Then Tiny joins in. “I’m not gonna admit to the things I sniff, but I f*cking love ice cream.”

We all laugh at his confession and comfortably settle into eating our meals. I nab a couple ribs off Lincoln’s plate, along with a bite or two of pasta salad. At one point, I felt guilty for eating off his plate after Tiny’s lessons, but Lincoln had no qualms about reaching over to Jewels’ plate to eat her food.

My heart is growing fond of the relationship the three of them have. It’s easygoing and seems very natural. It reminds me of what Jazzy and I once had.

Shake it Out by Florence and The Machines comes blaring across the speakers, and Jewels is immediately up on her feet, pulling on Tiny to dance.

“Let’s go,” Lincoln says.

And before I know it, he has me on my feet, dragging me out to the center of the dance area. Not the side or hidden in the back, nope, right in the middle.

“Lincoln,” I whisper.

“What?”

“Everyone is looking.”

“I know,” he says proudly, “You love this song. I know you have it on repeat all the time on my iPod. I wake up to it every morning, remembering the smile on your face as you listen to it.”

I feel his hands wrap around my waist, and I stand here dumbfounded. He knows this is my favorite song on his playlist. He finally grabs my arms and drapes them around his neck, and then places his hands back on my waist and starts moving me. Just like he does when he kisses me, he leads. Moving us to the song, and like a well-oiled machine, my body follows his without question.

Out of the corner of my vision, I catch Monica and her death glare set on high. Her hatred only fuels my fire to make Lincoln mine. I finally have something worth living for, his name is Lincoln Wilks, and he’s here dancing with me in front of hundreds of people. This makes me smile.

“There’s that smile.”

“What?” I ask.

“You always have the most genuine smile on your face when you listen to this song.”

Flipping around in his arms, with my back up against his chest, I wrap my arms around his neck once again and sway with his body.

“It’s not the song, it’s you,” I say, craning my neck to look into his face.

“Pizza,” he murmurs back.

My lips reach his, and we continue our steady movement to the beat. I let Lincoln lead the dance, but I take charge of the kiss again. He keeps one hand on my waist and raises the other to the long scar on my neck that’s proudly on display for the world to see. In this moment, I don’t remember the edge of the sharp coffee table or the hand that shoved me into it. No, I feel inner peace radiating out of every single one of my pores. The scar Lincoln is covering just morphed into my favorite attribute, and it’s all because of his touch.

After a few more dances, Lincoln whispers into my ear, “You ready to go?”

“Whenever you are,” I reply.

“I want to hang out a bit before I have to check in at the dorms.”

“Code for you want to make out for a few.”

“Code detected,” he says with a devilish smirk.

I stand back and watch Lincoln do all his brotherly hugs and waves to his teammates. A couple of them catch a glimpse of me, and I shoot them a little wave. When we reach Tiny and Jewels, I find myself in a full-fledged hug with her.

“I’m great at listening if you ever need anyone,” I say softly.

“Thank you.”

Tiny’s voice fills the parking lot. “Aw shit, man, looks like the loves of our lives hit it off. That may be better than the big W.”

“Big W?” I ask.

“Win. A win.”

We all start to laugh when I finally understand the meaning of his words.

Settling into Lincoln’s truck, I admit, “I really like them.”

“Yeah, Tiny is a great guy, and I love Jewels like a little sister,” Lincoln says.

“How long have you known them?”

“Actually, we all grew up together. His real name is Heath, and he’s more like a brother to me than Levi ever will be.”

“I’m glad you have him,” I say, grabbing his hand and placing it in my lap.

“I used to think I loved this truck, but when you’re in it with me, I don’t think there is any other place I would rather be, the field included.”

“What about me at one of your games?”

Lincoln doesn’t speak a word, but looks nervous and unconvinced of the idea.

“Never mind, I don’t need to go.”

Lincoln brings the truck to a screeching halt. Dust billows by outside the windows.

“Oakley, no. I want you there more than anything. I just didn’t want to push you too far, and I won’t be able to sit with you. I worry about you doing it alone.”