I shook my head. “It didn’t really show anything else.”
“She cut that footage to make it look like I was into Misty. But it didn’t happen that way at all.”
“Why would she do that?”
He sighed, looking concerned. “I have no fucking clue.”
“What if she knows?”
“She doesn’t know,” he said firmly. “But something weird is definitely going on.”
I paused. “And you really didn’t flirt with that girl?”
His face softened and he wrapped his arms around me. For a brief second, I wanted to pull away, but his face was so concerned and his touch felt so good that I melted into his embrace.
“No. I promise.”
“This is crazy,” I whispered.
“Yeah. It’s a little fucked up.”
I pulled away. “I should go.”
“We shouldn’t be seen together during the day anymore. I mean, don’t avoid me, but try not to seek me out, either.”
“Seems complicated.”
“I know. Too fucking complicated.”
I turned and walked toward the door.
“I’ll figure this out,” he called after me.
I looked at him and something dropped inside me. I didn’t want to say it, really didn’t want to, but I knew it was the right thing to do.
“Don’t come to my room tonight. Let’s just pause. For a while, until we figure this out.”
He stared at me silently for a second. “Okay. I’ll let you know what I learn.”
“Okay.”
Walking out of that room was like stepping through hot coals. I didn’t want to leave, knew what it meant, but I also knew that it was the right thing to do. With Jess sniffing around, things were too dangerous.
As I moved back out into the main house, I realized I had nothing to look forward to for the first time since we had started whatever we were doing.
I hoped I wasn’t making a huge mistake.
But I already missed his hot touch in the deep night.
Chapter Eighteen: Lincoln
I woke up shaking, drenched in sweat. It was the same old nightmare, but it was the first time I’d had it since I started sleeping with Brie.
Fuck, not being with her was worse than blue balls. It was like dream blue balls. Something about her made me sleep soundly, without the body-shaking nightmares that tore apart my nights before her.
I climbed out of bed, dressed, and washed up, pissed and determined. How many more days would start like this? How many more nightmares would I have to deal with?
Despite the dream, my legs felt a little bit better. Every day was a small improvement. Tracey was shocked that I was gaining back so much flexibility and that my pain was slowly decreasing, but it made sense to me. If I was going to put in hours every single day of grueling and intense physical therapy, I damn well better see some results.
Plus, I wasn’t the type of man to do anything half way. If I was going to rehab my legs, I was going to do it completely.
I moved down the steps, heading for the far wing of the house. Determination was etched on my face, and although I knew I didn’t have much time before I had to show up for PT, I knew I couldn’t keep letting this shit go on.
I pushed open the door to the side patio. It was a glass-enclosed room, cooled in the summer but without heat in the winter. Plants lined the windowsills and simple furniture filled the space.
Sitting in an armchair, exactly where I knew he’d be, was Cliff. He glanced up from his paper as I entered.
“Good morning, Lincoln. Haven’t seen you in a few days.”
“Cliff,” I said, nodding.
“Come sit down. Coffee?”
“Sure.”
I hobbled over to the small table, pulled out a chair, and sat down across from him. I poured myself a cup of coffee from the metal carafe he had placed on a silver tray.
Typical fucking Cliff. Even on a normal morning he acted like he was royalty. Yeah, I had money too, but I hated acting like I had it. There was a line between rich and obnoxious, and Cliff crossed that line at every opportunity.
“What can I do for you?” he asked as I sipped my coffee.
“We gotta talk.”
“Okay.” He put down his paper and pulled off his reading glasses. “Let’s talk.”
“You know what your producer did yesterday?”
He shrugged. “Probably something that pissed you off. If I had to guess.”
“Yeah. Damn right she did.”
“I’m not sure I want to hear about it, Lincoln.”
“Too bad, because I’m telling you. It involves your daughter.”
He paused. “Okay, fine. Go on.”
“You remember that charity auction my mom put on?”
He nodded but didn’t answer.
“Well, I had to go on a date with some horrible woman. Her name was Misty. She admitted to being a stripper.”