Page 60 of Daddies' Little Troublemaker

“Angry?” I peer around the side of the air mattress fort we created at one end of the pool. Sure enough, Lincoln is wearing a deep scowl. But, “Nope, that’s his usual face.”

“Resting bitch face,” she says wisely.

I cackle. “Yep.”

I collect a surplus of full water balloons, while Brenna covers me from behind our fortress. It’s hard to swim and carry the balloons at the same time, and I end up herding half of them along with a pool noodle, ducking every time one of Maya’s or Sawyer’s projectiles comes close. Nico’s throws all go wide—they’re like me with their terrible aim.

“Ha,” Maya shouts. “You’re a selfish bitch, aren’t you?”

Laughing, I lob a water balloon in her direction. “Takes one to know one!”

After a while, we run out of balloons and insults, and we all seem ready for snacks. I’m just drying off and pulling on my cover-up when Lincoln appears again.

He’s still scowling. I have to bite my lip from grinning at Brenna’s comment about his “resting bitch face.”

“You know to collect all the balloon pieces so they don’t get clogged in the filter, right?” he asks.

“Yep,” I say, striding to the pool net mounted on the side of the fence. It’s not the best location for the net because of the landscaped area surrounding it, but it seems to be the only place. “I was just about to do that.”

But when I step onto one of the paving stones leading through the azaleas, it sinks into the ground on one side and I completely lose my balance.

Down I go with a shriek, ass-first into the azaleas.

My friends gasp. “Evelyn!”

Through the pain radiating from my butt and ankle, I’m vaguely aware of Nico rushing toward me because they were closest. But before they get there, Lincoln is at my side.

“How bad is it?” he asks, concern lacing his tone, and his scowl more pronounced than before.

“Hurts,” I say, “but I’m fine, really.”

“Where does it hurt?”

“My ass,” I say, my face on fire because now every single one of my friends is hovering next to us.

“Anywhere else?”

I take stock of my body, trying to shove aside the pain in my tailbone to consider everywhere else. “My ankle. I think it twisted before I went down.”

“You,” he says, gesturing to Nico. “Nico, right? Will you get some ice from the kitchen? Towels are in the second drawer to the left of the sink.”

“Got it,” Nico says, jogging off.

“And…Sawyer?” Lincoln looks at Maya before realizing he has the wrong person, and looks at Sawyer instead. “There’s ibuprofen in the guest bathroom medicine cabinet.”

“On it,” Sawyer says.

Lincoln’s expert hands move down from my knee, gently feeling along my bones and tendons. It’s a little tender around my ankle.

He watches my face for signs of a reaction, his brown eyes thoughtful. “It’s probably a sprain. We’ll ice it and keep you off of it for a day or two.”

“How do you know?” Maya asks. “Are you a doctor or something?”

“Nope, but I’ve seen my fair share of injuries on construction sites.” He shrugs. “I was thinking we’d keep an eye on it, but if you want, we can go to the doctor now, Evelyn.”

I shake my head. “I think you’re right. If it gets worse, I’ll go.”

Nico and Sawyer arrive with pain meds and ice. Lincoln helps me hobble to one of the lounge chairs—the very chair where Caleb fucked me, actually, and I see his eyes darken as he realizes it at the same time I do.

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