“Happy to help out,” I lied.
“That’s so good of you. Well, we’re putting on a little gala, just a little gathering type event, but the space I rented just backed out. I need you to find somewhere that can accommodate, oh, say, three hundred people.”
I blinked. “Three hundred?”
“Yes, well, maybe closer to four hundred. To be on the safe side.”
I sighed. “Okay. I can help with that.” That’s not how I define small, though, I thought ruefully to myself.
“Great!” she said, excited. “I’ll send you an email with all the information you need.”
“Sounds good.”
She smiled hugely at me. “So how are you and Lincoln getting along?”
I shrugged, looking away. “Fine, I guess. Haven’t seen much of him.”
“Try and be friends. I know he thinks the world of you.”
I blinked and looked back at her. “Does he? That’s news to me.”
“Oh absolutely! He was always asking about you, back before the accident.”
“He was?”
“Sure he did. Even thought about visiting after he got out of jail. I guess he never did.”
“No, he never did.”
“Well,” she said, patting my leg. “Thanks again, dear. I’m off to make some calls.”
She stood up.
“Okay, sure. No problem.”
“See you later!” She walked back toward the house.
I barely heard her leave. Lincoln was constantly asking about me? Why hadn’t she mentioned it before? Probably because I barely spoke with Jules when I was away at school, I realized. I frowned, and I promised myself I’d make more of an effort while I was home to spend more time with her.
More pressingly, though, was the news that Lincoln thought the world of me. What was with that guy? One second he was pushing my buttons on camera, and the next he was talking about what had happened between us, the one thing we should never talk about. I had no clue what to think. And then he was asking after me like he gave a shit at all what I did? Every new thing I learned about him made him even more frustrating, and strangely that made me want to be around him. I wanted to figure him out, learn what was going on behind the tattoos and the limp and the bravado.
I can’t think like that, I reminded myself for the thousandth time. He was my stepbrother. I didn’t need to know a thing about him.
Still, there was the matter of the favor Lincoln owed me. I hadn’t thought too much about it since then, but eventually that would probably come in handy. Maybe I could have him do something embarrassing, like wear a dress to PT, but that was childish. Or maybe I could get him to do some of my work finding a venue for Jules. But it wasn’t like I had anything better to do. My phone remained silent, and all my friends remained elsewhere for the summer.
I shook my head, completely unsure of what the right move was. There were so many different things that I wanted from him; for example, I wanted to use my favor to have him pose shirtless in my bedroom for a week. But I also wanted to use my favor to have him never tease me again.
And he hadn’t defined what that favor was supposed to be. Was I supposed to get him to buy me something, or was it something dirtier than that?
And why was I thinking about him without his shirt on all the time?
What a mess. I got up and stretched and headed back up to the house, hoping Lincoln was still busy in physical therapy. I pushed open the doors that led into the kitchen and stopped short when I saw who was standing in front of the refrigerator. Despite being home, I almost didn’t expect to see him again.
“Dad?” I said.
He turned around, surprised. It took him a second to respond, but when he did, his face broke out into a smile and he laughed.
“Aubrie? What are you doing here?”
He walked over and wrapped me in a big hug. I hugged him back, feeling a little tentative and awkward. He was always an expressive man and was never shy with affection, but I hadn’t seen him in a while. Truth was, Dad was barely around throughout my childhood, and I had mostly raised myself after my mom passed away when I was twelve.
“Jules guilted me into being home,” I said.
He stepped back and grinned. “Sounds like her.”
He looked older. I hadn’t seen him in a little over a year, though we checked in over the phone as often as his schedule permitted. He had lost a few pounds, and his hair was longer and graying, but there was something else about him. Maybe there were more smile lines around his mouth and eyes, or maybe it was the healthy tan he already had. Either way, he looked tired.
“Where have you been?”
He sighed and walked back over to the refrigerator, grabbing a soda before shutting the door.