Page 32 of Presley's Christmas Catch
I put her out of my mind. I came over here as a distraction and to stop replaying those awkward moments in Presley’s apartment last night.
“So,” Lincoln says once we’re all eating. “Something happened with you and Presley.” He studies me as he stabs a piece of steak with his fork.
So much for distraction.
“Nothing happened,” I say quickly, but my heated cheeks are like a siren that something did happen, just not what Lincoln probably thinks.
“Somethingdid.” Lincoln waves the bite of steak around. “Every time I said your name today, she got this fake-looking smile on her face, and she changed the subject as quickly as possible. The cookies were great, by the way.”
I rub my hand across my face. “I didn’t make them. Just helped decorate.”
“Explain,” Lincoln says, his voice the slightest bit stern, like he doesn’t mean for it to come out that way but he can’t help it. It’s probably protectiveness. Presley’s a part of their Tuesday gossip session and quilting bee or whatever because they’re all in the facility at the same time that day.
“Presley told me … she has feelings for me. And…” I trail off because she never said that, only that she liked me, which is what she meant. It was the kiss that explained. “She, uh, kissed me. And then I had to tell her … I don’t feel the same.” It’s as difficult to explain now as it was last night when Presley and I fumbled around for words.
Lincoln’s eyes widen, and he shares a look with Layla. Some unspoken conversation happens before they both turn back to me. “And … that kiss was really just … nothing?” Lincoln asks.
Of course it wasn’t nothing. It was a big, fat bomb to our friendship. It blew everything up because Presley thought I wanted to kiss her.
“We’re just friends—I mean, Ithoughtwe were just friends. I clearly did something to make Presley believe it was more, and now our friendship is probably ruined.”
Layla squints at me, her fork hovering over the pile of perfectly seasoned roasted vegetables on her plate. “So you didn’t feel anything? No spark?” She sounds confused, like I told her Margot was an ugly baby. That’s preposterous, and we all know it.
“No?” I look back and forth between Lincoln and Layla. The kiss happened so fast there wasn’t anything to feel except surprise.
Lincoln smirks. “That sounds like a question.”
“Don’t you think I’d know if I felt that way about Presley? Wouldn’t the sparks be obvious?” I’d want to spoil her the way Kurtis is always showering my mom with his time, attention, and gifts, like flowers and trips. I wouldn’t be able to keep my eyes and hands off her, like Tim and Meg.
Layla shrugs. “I guess the sparks were obvious for me once I started paying attention, but I was so intent onnotfeeling anything that I kind of ignored what I thought was just friendship.”
Lincoln laughs before giving his wife that adoring look that makes me happy for him—and jealous at the same time. “I was in love with her the first time I saw her.”
She snorts. “That’s ridiculous. You didn’t even know me.”
He plants a light kiss on her lips. “Didn’t need to.”
“Ahh, so it was all superficial,” she teases.
“The first time I saw you, you were holding Margot,” he says like that’s all the explanation he needs to give. It works though, because Layla’s eyes go soft, and she gazes at him with the same love he stares at her with.
Yeah, I would definitely know if I feltthisway about Presley. EvenIcan feel the chemistry between Lincoln and Layla right now, so surely I’d know if it was happening to me.
But the truth is … I don’t remember what I felt when she kissed me. Like I said, everything happened so quickly. Her mouth was on mine, and it was soft and nice?—
Okay, that explains it. You don’t think a kiss is just nice if you felt a spark, right? It should feel like fire, and I didn’t feel fire.
“Brock?” Lincoln’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. He and Layla stare at me expectantly.
“Uh, yeah?”
He raises an eyebrow, likeexplain that, but I shake my head. It’s not what he thinks.
“What?” I ask.
“It’s just … like with Natasha?—”
“We’ve already talked about this. It was different.”
