Page 9 of Missing Linc
“And you can call me Cam,” I say.
Or baby, sweetheart, boy, little thing. I’ll take anything just as long as it’s coming from your lips.
“So, Linc, since we know each other now, and we’re old pals”—He laughs at that and I love that—“tell me what’s been troubling you?”
He shakes his head with a smile and runs a hand through his beard saying, “Fine.”
“I just got out of a long relationship and… I’m feeling lost,” he says.
Damn. That means single. Which is dangerous territory.
But it also means rebound, which I don’t want to be.
And we’re back to square one.
For fuck’s sake. He’s not even showing any interest in me. I need to stop being so damn clingy.
“Understandable,” I tell him. “Did you break it off, or did he?”
His eyes bulge at that and his mouth drops open.
“Oh, I’m not gay,” he says.
And if I could face-palm myself right there and then, I would. Isowould.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean… don’t mind me. You were saying?”
“I broke it off,” he says eventually.
I hope my assumption didn’t trip him up.
You know what? Straight people always assume everyone is straight. So fuck him if he’s offended.
And why exactly am I arguing with myself?
“It’s just I’ve been with…herfor so long I don’t know who to be without her. It feels like I’ve lost a part of myself. Does that make any sense?”
Oh hell yes, it does. And oh hell no, I do not want to be crushing over someone who’s still hung up on his ex.
Which shouldn’t really be a problem because he’s straight, so there’s no risk of me trying anything stupid.
We end up ordering another drink. On the third, he switches to a frozen daiquiri, too, which I’m trying to convince myself isnotbecause he’s flirting with me.
“Fu-uck,” he screeches after his first sip, and his eyes look almost cartoony the way he squints.
“Brain freeze?” I ask.
He nods, still trying to tame it.
“Well, sounds like you needed one, anyway.” I chuckle, and he glances back down at me.
“Touché,” he says.
“So… Mr. Hawkins,” he says.
I raise an eyebrow and grab a whole handful of nuts from the table to flick into my mouth.
“Oh, what’s with the formalities, Mr. Young?” I ask before my mouth becomes full of nuts.
