Except Lincoln. He had insisted that the first time we saw each other in person had to be at the premier. He said it was poetic or something like that. Really, he just loved to make an entrance. I tried to argue, but he was stubborn.
I sighed, running my hands down the fabric nervously. I hadn’t seen him in person in so long. What if he didn’t like what he saw anymore? What if things were weird?
I shook my head. I shouldn’t let myself worry so much.
“Aubrie? Are you ready?” I heard Jules yell.
“Coming!” I called out.
I grabbed my purse and steeled myself for what was about to happen.
The theater was huge and gorgeous. It was old, really old, but had been renovated in the past few years. Apparently, they kept as much of the original structure and layout as they possibly could while still updating it.
All in all, it looked amazing.
There weren’t a lot of people milling around outside. Lincoln had insisted on keeping the premier small. After my dad backed out of the documentary, Lincoln had bankrolled what was left of it, and Jess used the footage she had already shot. I heard that it was pretty good, but I hadn’t seen it yet. We only had Jess’s word.
Jules and I pushed open the front door, moving out of the chilly December air and into the heated lobby. Inside, people dressed in gowns and tuxedos moved around. There was a live string quartet playing soft music, and waiters walked around with champagne.
“Fancy,” I said.
Jules laughed. “Lincoln always did love a good show.”
“I can tell.”
She smiled at me. “I see some people I need to go hit up for donations. Will you be okay?”
“Have fun.”
She laughed and walked off to talk to a group of older men. For some inexplicable reason, old men loved Jules. It probably had to do with her classy attitude and the perfect cleavage she was always showing.
I glanced around, heart beating nervously. I didn’t see him anywhere. A waiter walked by and I grabbed a glass, downing half the drink in one gulp.
I moved through the crowd, not recognizing anyone. Where was Lincoln? He promise he would see me there, promised that he wouldn’t stand me up. What if he had changed his mind, and the whole thing about meeting at the premier was just an excuse to get away?
Before I could let myself spiral into a stupid worry fest, someone moved into my line of sight.
I stared at him. Lincoln Carter, perfect, better than perfect, incredible. He was in even better shape than the last time I saw him in person, if that was even possible. Pictures and videos didn’t do him justice. I couldn’t help but stare.
And then my heart nearly stopped. As he walked toward me, he was leaning heavily on his cane, much more than I remembered. It looked like he had hurt himself again.
I was terrified. Had something happened? Why wouldn’t he tell me about it?
His face was serious and strained as he approached me, and I was terrified. Something bad was happening. He looked like he was hurting.
And then, just as suddenly as he appeared, he dropped his cane and spread his arms.
“Hey, Brie baby,” he said, his face breaking out into his usual cocky grin.
I threw myself into his arms. I didn’t think about it, didn’t care who saw. It was Lincoln, finally, in person. I needed to touch him more than anything else. He wrapped his strong arms around me and pulled me tight against him.
“You asshole. What’s going on?” I asked.
He laughed. “This is the surprise.”
I looked up at him, confused. “What is?”
“The cane. Look.” He stepped back, away from me, and walked over to a waiter. He grabbed a drink from the tray and walked back.
It took me half a second to realize that he was walking just fine without a cane. He was barely even limping.
“Holy shit, Lincoln!” I said.
He laughed. “Surprise! I’m not crippled anymore.”
I threw myself at him again and hugged him, breathing in his smell.
“This is so amazing,” I said.
“Now do you get why I wanted to wait?”
“God no. I would have seen you anytime, anywhere.”
“What can I say. I like a little theatrics every once in a while.”
I laughed. “So are you done with physical therapy?”
I felt him shake his head. “Not yet. But close.”
I pulled back. “Can you jump?”
“Soon. I will be able to soon.”
“That’s amazing.” I couldn’t tell if I wanted to laugh or cry.
“Don’t get teary on me, Brie baby.”
“I’m not, asshole.” I slapped his chest.
He grabbed my wrist. “God I fucking missed you.” He paused and moved close to me. “You’re so much fucking sexier in person.”