Page 10 of The Best Man Problem
“Okay,” she spoke out loud in the silent room. “Let’s make a list.”
A siren sounded outside her window, but, having lived in the city for most of her life, she’d learned to block the noise out as she wrote. She made two columns, one with her name and one with Lincoln’s. Under her name she filled out her likes, dislikes, goals in life, dreams for the future. Under Lincoln’s name…huh. Honestly, beyond his name and friendship with Marie and Kenneth, she didn’t know much about the man.
“Likes?” She knew he liked it when she took charge in the bedroom and he groaned in pleasure when she— Whoa. Back that train of thought up right now. She was trying to dissuade herself from any further sexy-time thoughts of the man, not prime herself for another night of naughty dreams starring Lincoln Reid.
She could do this. There had to be something. Racking her brain, she remembered one small detail Marie had said. The woman had mentioned Lincoln coming out to help, and she had met the man at a hotel. From that information, she could infer he didn’t live in Denver or anywhere within close driving distance.
“Ha!”
Something—not a lot, but big enough to put a halt to any thoughts of continuing a relationship with him. Lilly wanted a partner in life, someone to come home to every night. Couldn’t do that with a man who lived…wherever he lived.
“Long distance,” she wrote under Lincoln’s name. She glanced at the paper. Her column filled all the way down the page, and his had only one thing written. “One fact, but an important fact.”
“I never said anything about a relationship. It’s just dinner.”
Lincoln’s earlier words rang in her memory. The man clearly had an issue with commitment. The way he’d grimaced just saying the word “relationship”…he had to be a short-term-type guy.
Strike two!
Lilly may not believe in true love, but she did believe in lasting, committed partnerships. Contrary to what Lincoln might think of her from their one night together, she was not a one-and-done-type woman. Opposite relationship goals was going on the list.
There. They didn’t match on paper, so he couldn’t be a good match for her. Satisfied with her logic, she placed the notebook and pen back on the bedside table and slipped under the covers again. Frantic brain sated, she slipped into a peaceful slumber. And if she had naughty dreams about Lincoln, that was fine, because dreams were not reality. And in real life, Lincoln Reid was all wrong for her.
Chapter Four
“Dude.” Kenneth shot Lincoln a skeptical glance as he readjusted the moving box in his arms. “This is the fourth box labeled computer parts. Are you building Skynet or something?”
Lincoln hefted his own box, also labeled computer parts—dammit—and pushed past his friend. “That doesn’t even make sense. Skynet is a self-aware worldwide neural network. I’d need more than a few boxes of hard drives and RAM.”
“You are such a nerd.”
“Whatever, hipster.”
Kenneth glanced quickly over his shoulder as the two men carefully maneuvered their hauls down the stairs. “Just because I own a coffee shop doesn’t make me a hipster.”
“Dude.” Lincoln shook his head. “You own a coffee shop that only uses fair-trade beans, you only sell organic pastries, you play the banjo, and you have a unicycle.”
“The unicycle is an heirloom from my grandfather. I can’t actually ride the thing. And banjos are awesome.”
He chuckled at his friend’s indignation. “Still a hipster.”
“Hey, Marie!” Kenneth called out as the men entered the basement apartment. “Can we call the landlord and take back our recommendation of Lincoln?”
“Boys, stop fighting or I’m not making my famous margaritas tonight,” Marie answered from the depths of the apartment.
“We’re sorry,” they answered in unison.
Giving his best friend shit was a luxury he hadn’t had in years, since Kenneth and Marie moved from Nebraska to Colorado, but he wasn’t willing to risk missing out on Marie’s delicious—and potent—margaritas. Her promise to make them weekly was half the reason he decided to move out here. Okay, not really, but it had been a plus.
The forces of sheer luck and utter frustration had combined to push Lincoln to make the move. His job had been going nowhere, and Nebraska held nothing but bad memories. As a software engineer, he could pretty much find work anywhere, but Silicon Valley and San Francisco—where the mega-high-paying work was—were too expensive, even for his skill set. Over the past decade, Denver had become the new hot spot for up-and-coming tech companies, so when an opportunity in the Mile High City presented itself, he’d jumped on it. Lucky for him, his best buds knew of a place to rent that wouldn’t blow his budget—Denver might not be the City by the Bay, but rent was still pricey, as he’d come to find out—and it happened to be close to his friends.
Very close.
“How thick is this ceiling?” Lincoln placed his box on the floor, eyeing his friend. “And please tell me your bedroom isn’t right above mine.”
Kenneth and Marie lived in a charming two-bedroom Craftsman-style bungalow right by Wash Park. The basement of the house was a one bedroom complete with tiny kitchen and three-quarter bath. Perfect for a lone person. That lone person being him. The previous tenant was supposed to move out last week, but due to a delay of paperwork on his new place, he had to stay a few days. Lincoln, being the laid-back guy he was, decided to crash in a hotel while the sweet older gentleman settled his affairs. His friends had offered to let him stay with them in the interim, but one night in college still haunted his dreams.
In his defense, there hadn’t been a sock or tie or anything on the door—hell, it hadn’t even been locked. How was he supposed to know if he went into his room that his eyes would be subjected to sights he could never unsee? Namely the naked, bronzed, hairy ass of his best friend. Thank God Marie had been obscured by Kenneth and the sorry excuse for sheets they’d tried to cover themselves with. He didn’t know if he could have ever looked her in the eye again if he’d accidently seen her naked. As it was, he still had to wash the image of Kenneth’s butt out with a good strong drink every now and then.
