Capture (Seaside Pictures 1)

"You have a tattoo."

I rolled my eyes. "That's why you stopped? Pris let me get a calf tattoo after my parents died. It was the one thing she let me do to honor them, even though it took weeks of begging." I'd wanted a set of angel wings, kind of like the tattoo Demetri and Alec had, though mine was larger, taking up a good quarter of my calf. It was black and white with red dates sprawled along the tips of the wings.

"It just…" Lincoln shook his head and then placed his hands on his hips. "… it's surprising, that's all."

I reached for him.

But he stepped away, out of my reach, both physically, and as his eyes shuttered closed, I realized, emotionally too.

"So that's it?" My words sounded heavy as they floated into the air, into the universe, waiting for him to say something that would ground the words, that would make them seem less bleak.

"Sorry." Lincoln flashed a wary grin. "Maybe this isn't smart, you know? I mean…"

"If you say I'm seventeen one more time, I'm going to push you off the balcony." My body shook with pent-up rage, and then when I glanced down, a wave of embarrassment washed over me. I was nearly naked. In his bed. And now he was turning me down? Couldn't he have at least turned me down when my clothes were still on? Quickly, I grabbed the comforter and wrapped it around my body. "You should go."

"But—"

"Sleep on the couch or the other bedroom. I'm tired."

"Damn it, Dani. Just let me explain."

"Fine." I flopped onto my side, the comforter still covering me in all the necessary places. "You have two minutes."

He gulped, his eyes trailing down the silhouette of my body.

"Ninety seconds."

"Fine," he snapped. "I don't want you like this."

All I heard was "I don't want you." The this wasn't important. The this didn't matter. It was just the end word that made the sentence seem less horrifying. The don't was bad enough, the want, even worse, but like this? That was a pity ending to the sentence. And I'd had enough pity to last me an eternity.

"Wow, Linc." I couldn't keep the sarcasm out of my voice. But at least it masked the hurt. "Didn't know you were so specific with who and what you slept with."

It was a low blow.

Especially since I knew he wasn't the type to take that type of insult without getting angry.

And angry? Was an understatement.

"Bullshit!" he yelled. "Really? That's what you have to say when I'm trying to be the bigger person here? Damn it, you really are immature if you think that's the reason I'm walking away right now."

"Funny, because you don't seem to be moving." I needed him to leave; I was desperate for it. I didn't want him to see me cry. Emotion welled in my throat, threatening to choke me. It was almost worse than when the words got caught, and, for once in my life I was upset over the fact that I could talk; my words had made things worse. Usually it was my silence. Ironic. And I hated it.

His muscles flexed as he clenched his fists and whispered in a hoarse voice, "Watch me."

He left.

Slamming the door behind him.

The sobs broke free seconds later as I cried against the strange pillow in the strange condo I should have never been in in the first place.

I didn't belong in his world.

So maybe it was good that this had happened. Because there would never be a place for me. I would have been a one-night stand, right?

So why did it hurt so much?

And why did it feel like the minute he left, he took a part of my heart with him?

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Lincoln

THE SOUND OF MY ALARM WAS more irritating than the fact that somehow I'd managed to sleep wrong, and my neck was currently twisted so hard to the right it hurt to breathe. Damn couch.

I hissed out a curse as I wobbled to a sitting position and rubbed the back of my neck, memories of the previous night hitting me upside the head like a two by four.

Dani had been so upset — maybe I should have been honest about the whole thing. Seeing her face, seeing that tattoo that I could have sworn I'd seen before — it made me pause.

And that pause was long enough to allow my brain to start working. Sleeping with her after knowing her, what? A little over a week? Not a good idea. Hell, it was one of the worst ideas I'd ever had. Who cared if I'd kissed her? Who cared if I was attracted to her? She wasn't one of those girls, the type you slept with, then left in the early daylight by jumping out the window.

And I was treating her that way.

I was ashamed of myself.

And I'd hurt her in the process. Damn, if she only knew it wasn't for lack of wanting her. It was because I wanted her that I hadn't slept with her.

But explaining that to an overly emotional woman? It wouldn't sink into her consciousness; all she could focus on was what I didn't do, what I didn't say, when she should be focusing on the simple fact that I'd stopped something that should never have started, at least not yet. I hadn't even taken her out on a date, for shit's sake! And what? I was going to have sex with her?

I punched the couch cushion.

It didn't make me feel better.

Nor did the fact that my phone wouldn't stop going off with text alerts. Finally, I swiped the screen to find out what was so important.

Curses exploded from my mouth so loud that I must have woken Dani. She ran down the hall, her shirt barely covering her tight ass. "What happened?"