Page 48 of Safety Net
I took a deep breath, and he counted for me.
"Again." He instructed, stepping closer so he could place my hand over his chest. I felt him expand and contract with each breath. We keep going, syncing up after a few breaths. We held one another's gaze as he brought me back down to earth. His hand remained gently on top of mine. I could pull away whenever I wanted…that wouldn't be anytime soon.
Lincoln's thumb massaged circles on the back of my hand. I leaned in closer, pressing my forehead against his chest just to feel more grounded, closer, and his. With my eyes closed, I imagined I was his, and I love the idea. Loved it so much my breathing hitched.
"It's okay," he soothed, not knowing that made things worse. "You're okay."
I didn't know how to do this. What was the next step after wanting someone? Surely not telling them. No, not immediately…but what if they'd wanted you first? He had wanted me first, right? That was some time ago, before this summer, before he got to know me. And since then, Lincoln hadn't flirted once. He'd moved on. And who wouldn't if the person you were texting ghosted you for months?
Why had I ghosted him? Why had I taken so long to get to this point? Why was I worried about this now when there were far more pressing issues to figure out?
"I'm…" I tried, pulling my head off his chest. "I'm so frustrated. "
"It's a lot of moving pieces," Lincoln agreed, of course, oblivious to the fact that he was the sole cause of my budding frustration. He continued to trace circles on my skin. My gaze dipped down to my hand underneath his. It was almost completely covered.
"Let's take our time," Lincoln said.
"Okay." I'm too breathy and lightheaded. Lincoln was consistently here, patient, and interested. I'd promised him nothing. He didn't expect that to change, and yet, he was still here. And maybe that was evidence of lingering feelings. No matter how small, it was worth the risk. Taking a chance on Lincoln was worth the embarrassment of being wrong.
"What do you want them to do?" he asked. "Think of one thing you want from them. From me."
I shook my head, pushing away my evolving feelings for him in exchange for work. I needed to focus. Questioning the evolution of romantic feelings would be for the sleepless night I undoubtedly had ahead of me.
I tried to recall everything they'd suggested at the beginning of the meeting. "I don't know. I want to keep hearing their thoughts, I think. They had some good ideas for changes. Improvements."
"You want to implement their changes?" he asked.
I shrugged. "I think I should."
Lincoln gave a dismissive wave toward the curtain. "When they have their own musical production, we'll prioritize their changes. But right now, what does Celeste want to see on that stage? Block them out and listen to that voice in your head."
I chewed on my bottom lip as I tried to internalize his advice. My fingers drummed aimlessly on his chest, picking up a beat in my head from one of the songs I wanted to run today. I took a moment to think, shoving the feedback everyone had for me in the far corner of my mind.
"Tell me what to do," he whispered, trying his best not to break my concentration too much.
"Get them to run the final song," I decided.
Lincoln smiled. "Yeah?"
"I need to start at the end," I said. "I always do."
"Alright, perfect. Sounds like we're back in business," he said.
I nodded, matching his smile. Neither of us moved, though. My gaze slipped from his eyes down to his lips. I didn't mean for it to, but being this close for this long had made it nearly impossible to avoid. And Lincoln's lips were beautiful, with the slightest hint of a cupid's bow that curved out into full roundness.
His hand still covered mine. Something had changed, and it took me a second to realize it was his chest. It wasn’t moving asmuch as it used to. While I still took deep, steady breaths, his had become shallow. His heart pounded.
Is it because of you? It could still be because of you.
"Should I…" he tried, clearing his throat and looking away. He licked his lips, trying to ready himself to finish his sentence. He was nervous. I wanted so much to help. I wanted to know what he was thinking. And I was finally calm and brave enough to ask.
"Is this because of me?" I brushed my thumb across his chest, referencing his racing heart.
"Always." He still looked everywhere but my face.
My stomach was overwhelmed with butterflies. "Still?"
He chuckled, embarrassed. "Yes. It never stopped. Never went away."
