Page 114 of Last Man Standing

“I want to not be scared.” I exhale a noisy breath, like a woman preparing for a fight. “I wanted to tell you yesterday. And I wanted to tell you the day before, too.”

“Jesus! How long has this⁠—”

“I wanted to tell you, Linc, but every time I tried, I froze up. And because I froze up, I felt shame. I was ashamed of being that same weak chick hiding inside her spiral of bullshit, because I knew what I was doing was bad, but instead of owning up to it, I kept hiding. That’s what I’d convinced myself. But I don’t think this is bad.” Inhaling again and filling my lungs, I straighten my back and glance out at the paper targets sitting just twenty feet ahead of me. “I’d convinced myself it was, since not telling you proved I was ashamed of something.”

“So fucking stop! Stop doing that… That thing! You don’t have to⁠—”

“But I realized I was scared to tell you because my history with men is, obviously, really friggin’ shitty. I don’t trust myself to choose well, and the fact I’ve been with Sebastion and too cowardly to tell you was proof I’d chosen poorly again.”

“Scar—”

“I don’t think I chose wrong this time.” I release a shuddering breath. “I think he’s a good man, Linc. I think he’s a really, really good man who uses crass words and surface-level intolerance to pretend otherwise. I think I’d talked myself into thinking this was bad, since obviously I suck at judging men. But in reality, I think Sebastion is good. So now I’m telling you. To prove my cowardice was never about him. It’s about me.”

“I can’t believe you’re…” He groans. “And him…” He growls. “I can’t understand how you… and then…” He runs a frustrated hand across his face. “Scarlett!”

I whimper and laugh, moan and sniffle. “It’s a lot, I know.”

“You’ve told me about men before,” he grits out. “After Roy. You’ve asked for my advice.”

“Yes.” I close my eyes. “I have. And it wasn’t weird. I gave you a name, you ran him to make sure he wasn’t a complete prick.”

“Scar—”

“It’s a bit like shopping for cars, I think.” I feel as ridiculous as I sound, so I drop back to my elbows and pinch the bridge of my nose. “The one time I shopped for a car alone, I got a complete junker that would cost me far more than the ticket price on the window. I shopped for cars with you after, as in, I asked for you to check them out, and even though things didn’t last with those guys, none of them turned out to be lemons. We dated, they were fine, then life went on, and I wasn’t harmed as they walked out the door. Then all this happened with Sebastion, and when I couldn’t tell you, I was terrified I was falling for another junker.”

“Falling for?” he startles. “Falling, like, over your shoelaces on your way out the door, you mean?”

I choke out a pained giggle and squeeze my eyes shut. “Nope.”

“Scarlett…” He breathes. “I don’t know what you want from me. I can’t…” Like me, he shakes his head. I see it in my mind. “I allowed you to go with him because I thought, of all the dudes on the planet, you would be safest with him.”

“I’m—”

“Safest, because he’s the most capable damn soldier I’ve ever met, but also the most annoying, crudest, insufferable piece of shit I’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing. I was so sure he repulsed you, Scar. Every time he spoke, you raged. Every time he looked at you, you wanted to crush him beneath your shoe. He was supposed to be the sure bet, and now you’re⁠—”

“I’m asking you to come car shopping with me.” I drag my bottom lip between my teeth and bite hard enough to feel the sting. “The morning after my birthday, while it’s just you and me and I don’t have to worry about anything except the law of lemons in car yards, I need you to tell me if I picked a junker.”

“You need my approval?” He groans, the sound drawn out and tripping along our call. “You want me to condone a relationship between my baby sister and that…” He swallows his words. Grunts. Growls. “We talked about him, right? We talked about the reputation he had and the way he treated Nova. We discussed how we met, and his position with Aster’s operation, and, fuckkkk,” he groans. “How much I wanted to kill him, simply because he knew Nova’s name, and that, to me, was too much of a risk.”

“Yes.” Dread swirls deep in my belly. Nausea. Fear. Anxiety. Dropping my chin to my chest, I feel the tears burning the backs of my eyes. “We discussed all that. And we also combed through what was true and what was a shield he used to cover himself while he was working.”

“It was already too much that he knew Nova’s name, Scar! That shit keeps me awake at night. Him being anywhere near her makes me sick to my stomach. But now he knows your name, too. Worse,” he whines. “You’re asking me to give you my blessing.”

Yep. I sniffle. Pretty much. “I’m asking you to help me comb through what’s real and what’s crazy. Because there’s what I feel, and then there’s what my brain screams at me every single time he touches me.”

“Argh!” He yelps down the line, gagging. “No! Don’t tell me about the touching. Never, ever, ever tell me about the touching.”

I hiccup out a tearful snicker. “Sorry. I just meant…” I blink fresh, scorching tears onto my cheeks. “Please help me. I’m driving myself insane over here because I like him. A lot. I keep swinging between thinking he’s the best man I’ve ever met, and thinking I’ve gaslit myself into a whole new mess. So I need you to just be Linc for a minute. Be the brother who would take my call, and when I’d give you a name, you’d write it down all huffy and grumpy, but then you’d do your thing, and then you’d come back and give it to me straight. No bullshit, no biases, no drama.”

“You’re asking me to green-light the guy we all knew as Tank!”

“I’m asking you to confirm if he’s a junker car. But mostly…” Emotion makes my lungs bounce as I bring a shaking hand up and wipe my face. “Mostly I’m scared I’m the junker. I’m petrified I’m broken and worthless and doomed to either keep choosing shitty guys or… being the reason a good guy’s life is ruined.”

There. I said it.

Sniffling, I clamp my lips shut and know, for better or worse, I still un-boiled my spaghetti and did the thing that paralyzes me most. I froze on day one. Froze on day two and three. I’ve frozen way too many times in my life, but here I am, on my own two feet, and I’m determined not to freeze anymore.

“If I said he was no good for you, would you walk?” Linc’s voice comes down the line. Grating. Pained. Nervous. “If I called it and said this was a non-starter, would you believe me?”