Talkin' Trash
Page 5

“Good,” he grunted. “Let’s go finish lunch.”
I didn’t bother to tell him that I hadn’t even really started lunch. I had one bite of my California Roll, and it was the end piece, the smallest part.
I also didn’t bother arguing with him.
I was there, I was still hungry, and I had no ride home. I wasn’t a stupid girl by any means.
I sighed as I followed him back inside the sushi place I’d just come out of moments before and tried not to let my eyes stray down past his waist.
That way, I could tell myself that I wasn’t staring at his ass, I was staring at his very well-defined back.
It was okay to look, wasn’t it?
Looking didn’t constitute feelings.
“Table for two,” I heard Linc say to the woman who had seated Tyson and me not twenty minutes before.
She glanced at me, her eyes widened, and I found myself flushing.
Linc’s eyes were mischievous when he said, “We have an open relationship. I don’t mind when she sees other men as long as she comes home to me.”
I sighed and followed behind the startled server, happy when she led us to a table next to a window that overlooked the parking lot.
That way I could people watch and not Linc watch.
The less I looked at him, the better.
I was already going to have to ride home with him. I had to prepare myself for having my body pressed to his.
“You look weird in a dress,” he said once we were settled.
I gave him a blank look. “I feel weird, too.”
“Why did you wear it?” he pushed.
Because I thought it might piss you off if you happened to see it.
It was a little on the short side, and I had no doubt in my mind that when I got on the back of his bike later, I’d have to hike it up to almost my waist to be able to get on.
“Because,” I shrugged. “I wanted to.”
He didn’t call me on my lie, even though I was fairly sure he saw it for what it was.
The waitress came to the table then and took our drink orders, and it just so happened to be the same one who had taken my order when I’d arrived earlier.
“Water again?” she asked politely.
I shook my head. “Sweet tea. And a beer—whatever you have on tap.”
Her eyebrows rose, but she politely wrote down what I wanted anyway.
Her gaze turned to Linc and she reeled.
“Aren’t you…”
Before she could finish, I started to laugh. “He gets that all the time. You have no idea. He’s not Linc James, though. His name is Bonard. I call him Bonnie for short.”
The waitress’s shoulders drooped. “That sucks. He’s one of my favorite players.”
I doubted it.
If he was one of her favorite players, there was no way in hell that I would’ve been able to convince her that he wasn’t the Linc. She would’ve caught on to my bullshit in a millisecond.
Linc James was a popular man, and the football world loved him—the big bastard.
“I guess the beer’s for me, but let me have a water, also,” Linc smiled politely.
He didn’t show his teeth, though.
“Thanks for that,” Linc sighed when she walked away. “You have no idea how exhausting it can get sometimes.”
I did.
It happened while I’d been with him more times than I could count over the years.
Even in college, he’d been a big deal.
Now back home, he would’ve been recognized in a heartbeat, and I’d have had no hope of going out to eat with him. Linc James was a popular man, and honestly, the only reason nobody recognized him in this restaurant was likely due to the hoity-toity atmosphere. The restaurant catered to a more refined crowd.
I’d never been to this particular one because it was just too fancy for me.
I preferred places that didn’t look down on me for not eating with a fork when I didn’t want to.
“What was that look for?” my non-date asked.
I pursed my lips. “This place. I would’ve preferred to go to the one down the road. They have better California Rolls.”
I would know. The one bite I had was all it took for me to realize that.
“And they have free margaritas because they don’t have a liquor license, yet. They have applied for their license, but until it comes in, they are giving the alcohol away as a promotion,” I explained.
Linc laughed and stood up. “Well then, let’s go.”
I blinked at him. “Are you serious?”
He nodded, jerking his head toward the door. “They haven’t brought us anything yet, and they don’t charge anything for sitting at their table for thirty seconds.”
I agreed with that wholeheartedly. “Okay, let’s go.”
I was standing up and hurrying in the direction of the door before anybody could stop me.
Linc came much more leisurely, uncaring that we’d just walked out of a restaurant after we’d already placed our drink orders.
But, I reminded myself of the lady’s face as we’d ordered our drinks and gave zero fucks.
Only, once I was outside, I was reminded of the fact that I was wearing a dress and it happened to be super tight.
“I swear I won’t look at your panties,” Linc drawled as he saw me sizing up his bike.
I grinned and hiked my dress up, happy that I’d thought ahead to slip the tight Under Armour workout shorts on underneath it.
“No worries,” I said as I hiked it up to my navel.
The look on Linc’s face was priceless, and it also made something low in my belly squirm.
I ignored that feeling and watched as he threw his leg over the bike.
***
“You want to go for a ride?”
I’d been staring at the bikes in front of me, wondering what it felt like to be on one when he’d come up behind me.
“One of them is yours?” I asked softly.
I didn’t want to turn around. I wanted to be able to speak to him without tripping over my own tongue.
The man was gorgeous. Heart-stoppingly, panty-melting, all-I-have-to-do-is-smile-to-get-what-I-want, gorgeous.
“That one that you were staring at.” Linc pointed, coming up to my side.
It had been the one I was staring at.
It was all black. The handlebars. The brake cords. The engine. The gas tank. The helmet hanging off the handlebars. All of it was black.
I liked it a lot.
And it looked older than all of the others, but also very well cared for.
I liked old things.
One day I wanted to get an old house like the ones Jo and Chip renovated on Fixer Upper and make it beautiful again.
My dream car was a Pontiac GTO. Fully restored, cherry red, fast and loud.
“I think I want to,” I murmured softly. “If we can get out of here without any of our family noticing that we’re gone.”
Linc laughed. “Honey, I’ve been sneaking out as long as I can remember. I could probably break you out of jail and not be caught at this point.”
I snorted. “Hopefully we never prove that fact, because then it’d mean that I was in jail.”
He grunted in agreement. “They were talking about you before you got here, you know. I was told that you’re not all that innocent. Maybe I should start preparing now for that breaking you out of jail thing.”
My mouth fell open in affront.
“What?” I gasped.
He got on the bike and started to wheel it out of its parking spot between two much flashier motorcycles.
“There’s nowhere to sit,” I said. “And you only have one helmet.”
He handed the single helmet over to me. “We won’t ride far. Just up and down the road. I’ll scoot up enough that you have at least some cushion.”
And he was true to his word.
We only went up and down the road twice before he came to a stop and gestured for me to get off.
I did, albeit very reluctantly, and felt my face stretch into such a wide smile that there was no way that my mother wouldn’t ask about it.
“I want to do that again…” I paused when I felt stiff in places that shouldn’t be stiff. “But only after you get a new seat.”
***