Page 19 of Losing Ansley

“Where’s Rose?” I ask Dylan hoping she doesn’t come as much as I like her. I’m sure she’ll see the day I’ve had right away.

“She has a big test, so she couldn’t come.” He responds. There’s a knock on the door, and my heart begins to pound, knowing it’s Lincoln. I haven’t seen him since Christmas. Dylan opens the door, and I stand from where I was sitting on the steps putting my converse tennis shoes on. My mouth pops open when I see his reddening eye that will probably turn into a black eye, and I rush to him.

“What happened?” Dylan and I ask at the same time. Anger is vibrating off him, and I know immediately what happened. The anniversary is coming up, and emotions always run high around this time, which is why I’m wearing long sleeves on this hot day in May.

“Just an accident,” Lincoln replies, but the look we share tells a different story. Dylan’s eyes narrow.

“What kind of accident?” He asks, and Lincoln sighs.

“I slipped in the shower.” He lies, and I wait to see if Dylan will buy that story. Lincoln is an athlete, but Dylan doesn’t question he shrugs.

“That sucks, man. A couple of beers will help the pain.” I roll my eyes at Dylan being oblivious yet again, and look at Lincoln with concern. I don’t know why we came to this silent agreement we’d leave Dylan in the dark about how our parents treated us since Ivy died. Maybe because he beat himself up, he wasn’t there that day.

Or maybe because it was something Lincoln and I shared. Dylan pats his pockets.

“I forgot my wallet. I’ll be right back.” He runs up the stairs, and I turn back to Lincoln.

“Your dad?” I ask, and he nods. I rub at the spot on my arm my mom grabbed earlier, and his eyes zone in on it. He gently grabs my arm and pushes my sleeve up. He exhales through his nose at the bruise on my arm and touches it gently.

“Your mom?” He asks, and I nod. He lets my arm go and adjusts my sleeves so it’s covering my arm again, pulling me into a hug.

“Happy birthday Lincoln,” I whisper.

“Thanks, kiddo.” Inwardly I groan at being called that by him, but there’s nothing I can do about it.

ON OUR WAYback to the apartment, I’m between Lincoln and Dylan. My hand accidentally brushes Lincoln, and I try to pull away, but he stops me. His middle finger rubs up my palm to my wrist, and then he interlinks our fingers.

My head snaps up to him at his boldness, and he winks at me. I glance at Dylan and see he’s not paying us attention. Of course! I snatch my hand away and refuse to look at him.

I’m not going to be someone’s dirty little secret.

“So, Lincoln, Ansley’s room turned guest room is ready for you. What time are you leaving tomorrow?” Dylan asks. Lincoln’s eyes are on me, but I ignore them. He knows I’m not working tomorrow. He probably wants a quick fuck before he leaves. Not happening. I hear him sigh but still refuse to look at him.

“My car rental should be ready to pick up first thing in the morning. I’ll take an Uber there and leave.” Lincoln answers. I still don’t say anything, trying my best not to think about the fact that he’ll no longer be just a call away.

“Ansley, why don’t you take him? Instead of making him take an Uber? I know you two are probably tired of each other, but still.”

I grind my teeth and glare at the back of Dylan’s head as he walks ahead of us. I still refuse to look at Lincoln.

“Yeah. I guess I can do that.” I mumble.

“Great!” Dylan responds. They walk me to my apartment and insist on walking me inside. Dylan gets a phone call and walks outside, leaving me alone with Lincoln.

“You don’t have to take me tomorrow,” Lincoln says, and I shrug.

“It’s not a big deal. I’ll be ready at eight, so come over, and we’ll go.” I murmur. He glances at the door and walks to me, wrapping his arms around me as he pulls me close. I want to fight it. I do. But the thought of not seeing him every day makes me not want to stay.

“I’m going to miss you, Ans.” He holds me tighter, and I return his embrace as I fight the rising emotions in my chest. “I wish I could convince you to come back with me.”I wish I could convince you to come clean to my brother.I want to say it, but I don’t. I keep my thoughts to myself.

“I have to do this, Lincoln.” I feel him nod, and he turns his head so his lips brush against my neck, but I pull back, refusing him. He stares at me.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, and I turn my eyes toward the ceiling.

“I’m not going to be your dirty secret, Lincoln,” I state, and he opens his mouth and then closes it. He knows I’m right.

“It’s not like that, Ansley.” I scoff and glance toward the door to ensure it’s closed, so Dylan doesn’t overhear.

“It is. Or you’d tell him.” I challenge him, and he runs his hands through his hair.

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