Page 21 of Missing Linc
Ac-tor.
Like, what the hell is happening to me? Am I going senile? Or is that heartbreak in full swing?
I let out a groan of pent-up frustration just in time with a foul, so thankfully neither Isaac nor Ezra question it.
I really need to pay more attention to the game.
The bell rings just when the New Harlow Giants have scored. I turn to look at Isaac, but he’s busy celebrating in Ezra’s mouth, so I bite the bullet and get up to answer the door.
I grab my wallet off the kitchen island on my way there, and I check back at my friend as I open the door.
Yup. Still frenching his boyfriend. The slut.
When I turn my attention to the delivery boy with the PizzaSmiths cap on, I freeze.
He lifts his head, and I find the blond beauty with the brown eyes that’s been haunting me for months now.
“Linc! Hi,” he says, equally surprised seeing me.
“Hey. Cam,” I say.
“How are you?” he asks.
He closes his eyes and shakes his head.
“Ignore me. We only saw each other yesterday,” he adds.
That gets a laugh out of me.
Fucking traitor body betraying me in the presence of the one person I’m not supposed to be betrayed in front of.
“Well, I’m good. Watching the New Harlow Giants game.” I hook my thumb behind my back, at the direction of the TV and my friends. Wait a minute, did someone mute the game? “Ho-how are you?”
“Well, I’mnotwatching the game,” he says and passes me the pizzas. “Are these for you?”
I take them from him and set them on the kitchen counter.
“Yes. And my… friends,” I say just as both Ezra and Isaac join me at the door.
“Oh. Nice,” Cam says, and again he seems to reprimand himself inside his head.
“Hey,” Isaac says. “How do you guys know each other?”
“He’s in my play,” I say.
“I work with him,” Cam says at the same time.
“Oh. You didn’t tell us you were working with such a cutie,” Ezra says and flicks my chin.
“Naughty Linc,” Isaac adds.
I huff. They’re embarrassing me. Asses.
“Erm…” Cam says, his cheeks turning a bright pink instantaneously.
“Shut up, you two. You sound like a couple of drunk college students,” I grumble at them.
“Sorry,” Isaac says.
