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“I just…I can’t live with you anymore. I know our boys are best friends, but you and I…” I let that trail off because I can’t physically bring myself to say it.
This hurts more than I thought it would.
“Fine. When the boys aren’t home, I’ll stay with Linc,” she says, pursing her lips. “You can start finding somewhere else to live.” She leans in toward Lincoln, who tightens his arm around her. “Don’t make me choose between friendship and love, Jolene. You won’t win.”
I purse my lips and spin on my heel. I run toward the ladies’ room to take a minute to collect myself as her words echo around my brain.
Don’t make me choose between friendship and love.
She was leaning into him.
I believed the act, so I’m sure everyone around us did, too. I hate it, and I get this strange sense that Sam likes it. I’m not exactly sure how to deal with that.
And I have a feeling it’s not going to get any easier.
I draw in a few deep breaths. We didn’t have the big fake fight in front of a large audience, but it was definitely the right audience. Rivera saw it all, and he’s waiting for me outside the bathroom.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Stop pretending like you give a fuck,” I hiss.
“Okay. I don’t. But I know what I saw where you and Nash are concerned. So how did the friend get involved?”
“I’d rather not discuss that at all, least of all with you. What you saw was nothing. Sam and Lincoln are together now, and it appears there’s nothing I can do about that.”
“So you kissing him was…what? Using your body to get a story the way you used it to get this job?” he presses.
“Fuck you,” I spit, and I raise a hand to slap him clean across the face.
He looks surprised by my outburst, and he grabs my wrist in his fist. He spins us around so he has me pinned up against the wall, and I freeze as fear grips onto me.
“Oh, that’s something I’ve always wanted, Jolene,” he says, his voice low and slimy as hell in this hallway that’s way too small for the two of us. “Come on. You gave it to Marcus. You gave it to Lincoln. Isn’t it my turn now?”
I will not let him hurt me. I will not let him take something from me I’m not willing to give. There’s enough people around here tonight that I know he can’t do anything to me in this hallway. But that doesn’t mean he’s harmless, and it certainly doesn’t mean I’d want to run into him in a deserted alley.
Some force beyond my control kicks in, as if my gut is acting on instinct.
“That’s never going to happen.” I lift my knee and connect solidly with his groin, and then I run the hell out of the hallway to the sound of his oof as he doubles over in pain.
Good. The fucker deserves it.
I’ve never been prouder of my gut.
What an awful night, and it’s just getting underway. I still have to cover this event as I try to shake off everything that has happened in the first ten minutes since I arrived at this shit show.
I’m not sure what’s worse tonight: fighting with my best friend publicly so people will believe she’s fucking the man I love or getting hit on by a slimy asshole who’s trying to take my job away from me.
CHAPTER 32: LINCOLN
I could see it in her eyes. The public fight with Sam was rough on her, and when she returns from the bathroom, she doesn’t look any more settled.
If anything, she looks frazzled.
I have to do something. I have to make sure she’s okay. And so I send her a covert text since I can’t exactly walk over to her and see what’s going on.
Me: Are you okay?
She doesn’t check her phone right away, and I realize she might not check it at all until later since she’s working this event.
