That Girl (That Girl, #1)(46)

“Here, he’s all yours,” Jewels says, passing me the phone.

“Hi.”

“Just stay at the car with Jewels. I’ll be there in forty minutes.”

“Okay, please don’t be mad.” I’m starting to sound like a broken record.

“I’m not mad at you, Oakley, for the fifth f*cking time. I just don’t think it’s very cool that my girl has to walk a couple miles across town to get to my game.”

“Okay, bye.” I hang up the phone before Lincoln can lecture me anymore.

“He’s f*cking pissed,” I say, stating the obvious.

“No shit, Einstein,” she replies.

We both start laughing uncontrollably.

“Stop, we need to stop laughing. This isn’t funny,” I gasp, still laughing.

Trying to hide our smiles and smother out our nervous, inappropriate laughter, we sit and wait for the storm.

“I’m not wearing any panties. That should count for something, right?” I ask hopefully a while later.

Then the laughter strikes again.

“You two find something funny?”

Looking up from the passenger seat, I see Lincoln leaning on the car and looking in at us.

“Lincoln,” I squeal, forgetting all about his fit.

He steps back, and I fly out the door, jumping up into his arms. I feel him wince, but am too far gone to back off.

“You’re amazing,” I say.

“Oakley, I’m really not okay with…”

“That first interception was so cool. I didn’t know what was going on for a minute, and then you were off to score.”

“Oakley…”

With my legs wrapped around his middle, I lay my lips over his mouth, silencing his words.

“Get a room, *s.”

I hear Jewel shoot out of the car and into Heath’s arms, followed by her sobs and pleas for him to never leave her.

Lincoln grunts one more time, walks over to his truck, and sets me down on his open tailgate.

He’s avoiding eye contact, so I say, “Look at me. Don’t be mad at Jewels. She had to go to her dad.”

Lincoln grips my ass and pulls me in closer to him, setting his face in the crook of my neck.

“Plus, I’m not wearing panties.”

His head flies up, and he has a questioning eyebrow raised, daring me to prove it. Leaning back from him, I unbutton my shorts and unzip them. “See?”

“Holy f*ck, that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Now, kiss me, MVP.”

“There’s no MVPs in games like those.”

“No shit. You’re mine, though.”

Lincoln leans down, licking his way across my mouth and nipping at my bottom lip.

“Stop and kiss me.”

His eyes take on a wicked gleam. “Make me.”

Grabbing the back of his head, I force him down on my lips and devour him.

“Good game, Lincoln,” a carload screams as they pass by us.

I let him stand up straight and wave to the fans.

“Jesus, woman, you looked hot as hell swinging that cotton candy bag above your head, jumping up and down screaming for me.”

“I was a little out of control,” I admit. “My belly is killing me.”

“Why?”

“I ate three bags of it.” I say, my stomach roiling a bit at the confession.

“Holy hell, I guess it would,” he says, jumping up on the tailgate with me.

He grabs me by the hips and pulls me over onto his lap, and when my knees hit the metal, I cringe in pain.

Lincoln eyes me suspiciously. “What’s wrong, Oakley?”

I’m stuck in a position where I either roll the rest of the way into his lap or flop back down on my ass. The pain is so overwhelming that I have no choice but to fall down on the edge of the tailgate. In the same moment, Lincoln reaches out and brushes the goose egg on my head.

“What happened?” he asks gently, his fingers carefully probing the shape of the lump.

My hands fly to my knees to soothe away the pain, and I feel the wet, warm liquid running down them.

“Oakley Ann, what the f*ck happened?”

All of the happiness is gone.

Jewels interrupts. “She told me a wiener dog chased her and she fell.”

Looking up, I see my three friends with their hands folded over their chests waiting for answers.

“Truth now,” Lincoln demands.

Turning to face him, I grab his hand. “I was walking here, and about three blocks away a truck pulled up to me, and Monica was in the passenger seat.”

“And?” Lincoln prompts, his brows lowering menacingly.

“And she was saying nasty things about me. I just kept walking, but she kept attacking me, so I told her to leave me alone. The next thing I know, a beer bottle hit me in the head, and I fell. Then I ran to the game so I wouldn’t be late, but Jewels picked me up before I got here.”

“Color?” Heath’s voice sounds like a wolf about to attack.

“Color of what?” I ask.

“What color was the truck?”

“It was a light silver,” I whisper.

“That motherf*cker,” both men roar. I glance between them, but quickly look away from the anger evident in their faces.