Page 65 of The Best Man Problem
Exactly when and where had she fallen in love with Lincoln? Ugh, she’d like to go back to that moment and smack some sense into herself.
Too late now. Apparently, according to her friends and her heart, she was in love with a nerdy computer geek who told bad pirate jokes that made her laugh, kicked her butt at pinball, and made her feel more than any man she’d ever known. Maybe her friends were right. Life didn’t always set you up with who you thought you should fit with. So what if they didn’t match in every area of life? Not everyone had to be perfectly compatible.
She wasn’t even sure that was a possibility anymore. All she knew was that without Lincoln in her life, something felt…wrong. A part of her was missing, and she didn’t think she’d be whole again if she didn’t get it back.
Would she ever be able to tell him how she truly felt?
“I’m sorry if I ever pushed you two away.” She spoke through her tears, not wanting to miss an opportunity to tell the people she cared about exactly how she felt. “I know it’s sometimes hard for me to show it, but I do love you both. And I’m really happy I have you in my life.”
“Awwww.” Mo pressed her hands to her chest, rushing around the desk, opening her arms wide. “Come here, you.”
“Group hug!” Pru squeezed her from one side while Mo attacked her on the other. “We love you, too, sweetie.”
She endured the hug for fifteen seconds—emotional vulnerability was one thing, but she really liked her personal space—before gently rolling her chair back and breaking out of the embrace.
“What do you think I should do?”
Her friends shared a look, silently communicating before turning back to her.
“Call him,” Pru said.
“Yes,” Mo agreed. “Ask him to go for drinks to talk. Hash it all out.”
“Communication is the key to a healthy relationship. Believe me.”
Since Pru was currently happily married to the love of her life, Lilly would trust her on this. Gathering up all her courage, she grabbed her cell phone and sent off a text, for once acting with her heart instead of her brain.
Chapter Nineteen
What the hell am I doing here?
The thought popped into Lincoln’s head for the third time since he’d stepped foot into 1up. The same answer kept coming back to him. He was here because Lilly texted asking to grab a drink and talk. She deserved an explanation for his shitty behavior the other morning and his avoidance the past few days. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to say to explain things.
How about the truth, dumbass?
He sighed, taking a sip of the stout in front of him. The rich almost-coffee-like flavor of the local brew did nothing to improve his mood. Usually a good stout could cure all his ails, but not tonight. Because he knew that in order to truly apologize to Lilly, he would have to explain. And explaining meant opening up. Something he was not good at since his ex ripped his world out from under him.
This was going to suck. But Lilly deserved the truth. She deserved a hell of a lot more, too. The woman was amazing, so tough and in charge while at the same time caring and soft. She deserved better than a man who didn’t even know if he could trust love a second time.
“You’re early.”
The shocked voice caused him to look up from the label he was currently peeling off his beer bottle. He stood—or stumbled, truthfully—out of his chair to stand as Lilly tilted her head, glasses slipping down her nose only to be pushed back up again by a single finger.
“Um, yeah. I wanted to make sure I got here early. I’ve noticed parking in Denver can be a bit…”
“Tricky?” she offered helpfully.
“I was going to say a pain in the ass, but, yeah. Tricky works, too.”
She laughed softly, the sound filling his chest, warming the coldness that had taken up residence the past few days. He missed that sound, and it was his own damn fault.
“Sit.” He indicated the chair across from his. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Vodka cranberry, please.”
As she took her seat, Lincoln hurried to the bar to place her order. The bleeps and bells of various arcade games filled his ears, muffled voices carrying bits and pieces of conversation as he waited with as much patience as he could muster. Once the bartender finished his order, he handed over some cash, enough to cover the drink and a hefty tip. Grabbing the pale red drink, he made his way back to the table, but Lilly wasn’t there. Panic clutched his chest for a moment as he thought she’d changed her mind and taken off, but then his eyes scanned the barcade and he saw her, standing in front of one of the pinball games, hands on the flapper buttons, concentration fully on the game.
“Got your drink,” he said as he approached her.
