Page 7 of Losing Ansley

He made me the lead of my team earlier this year, bringing me from making forty-five thousand a year to forty-nine. One of the downfalls of living in a small rural town in Mississippi is that the pay sucks. Sometimes I wonder why Lincoln doesn't move his company to a bigger city so he could make a lot more money.

I step into the shower and let the water wash away the remnants of Lincoln from my skin. After my shower, I dry my hair and do my skin routine while trying to figure out what to do. I pick my phone up and find Dylan's number.

"Hey, Ans!" I swallow and sit down on my bed.

"Hey! What are you doing?" I ask him.

"I'm packing. I sold the house." He says excitedly. I fall back on the bed and stare up at the ceiling. There goes that plan. Tears prick my eyelids, but I blink them away.

"That's great, Dylan! Do you need help with anything?" I ask even though I won't help with anything. He huffs.

"No. If you need some furniture, let me know. I can't take all of this to Atlanta with me." He leaves this weekend, but I was hoping I could stay at the house until I could figure something out. That's not happening now.

"Have you thought about coming?" I lay there thinking about it before answering.

"Yeah." I have to do something, change something.

"When you get there, find out if there's anything available. I can send them photos of what I've made." I tell him.

"Absolutely! My apartment has two rooms. You can even stay with me." He says excitedly. The last thing I want to do is live with Dylan, but this isn't a forever thing. It's a plan for now. Something that can help me get through this rough patch.

"Yeah. I could do that." As always, Dylan doesn't hear the hesitancy in my voice. He only hears and sees what he wants.

"Okay! I'll take some furniture to put in the other room." I shake my head but don't say anything.

"You could move in with me and search for a job while here. We can figure the logistics out later, or I can cover us both until you find out. Whatever works best." Of course, he could cover for both of us. He still has his inheritance, but I don't say anything. Dylan tried to give me half, but I refused it. Now, I wish I hadn't.

"I can't do that to Lincoln. This app is about to launch. I'll come down after that. Okay?" I hear him sigh.

"Yeah. I understand. Well, I need to go. I have to finish so everything is ready when the moving company arrives tomorrow." We say our goodbyes, and I hang up. What am I going to do?

THE NEXT FEWdays, I ignore Lincoln and wonder how long it will take him to take things into his own hands. I walk into the break room, put a k-cup in the Keurig, and pull up the dating app I downloaded a while ago to do research for the app we're about to launch.

A few weeks ago, I got a match from a guy named Cole. We chatted a few times and even face-timed last weekend. I pull up his profile and stare at it while my coffee brews, wondering if it'll come across as desperate if I ask to move in with him. I'm about to exit the app when a hand reaches in front of me and grabs my phone.

"What the hell?" I turn toward the person and scowl when I see Lincoln. He's staring at the screen and then glances up at me.

"Who the fuck is this?" He snarls. I snatch my phone away from him and slide it into my bra. His eyes follow my hand and stay glued to my chest for three heartbeats. I turn toward the Keurig and put some creamer and sugar in my coffee, ignoring the frantic beats of my heart.

"None of your damn business!" He crowds me, pressing against my side, and it takes all my strength not to lean into him.

"Two days ago, when my cock was buried inside you, made it my business, and I bet if I slip my hand into your panties right now, you'd be drenched for me." He says in a low voice, and I have to control myself from reacting to his words. I grab my coffee and begin walking out of the break room, turning back toward him at the last second.

"You're wrong; it would be for him," I smirk when his jaw tenses, and he looks two seconds from taking me over his knee. But he can't do much about it unless he wants to make a scene, and there's no way in hell he's going to make a scene.

I try my best to stay in my office for the rest of the day. The one time I ventured out to chat with Liv and Caroline, he found us in the break room, and I ignored him again. I still wonder how long he's going to let me do that. He answers that question when he comes into my office that afternoon. Before I can greet him, Caroline texts me, and I assure her I'm okay, even though I'm not.

"What do you want, Lincoln?" He closes the door and stares at me.

"Dylan said he sold the house." I refuse to look at him; instead, I stare at my computer screen.

"Yep, he did," I state, hoping he'll leave. I still have no idea what I'm going to do. At least tomorrow night, we're staying at Liv's house. I spoke to the landlord, and he said he'd give me until Sunday instead of tomorrow at midnight. That gives me one more day to figure out where to go.

"Ansley. Please talk to me." I glance up at him.

"What do you want me to say? You regret the other night, so I'm giving you your space."

He walks around my desk and leans against it crossing his legs as he stares at me.

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