Fool Me Twice Page 13

  I may or may not walk us all the way back to the dorms and up to my room in that exact position.

  27

  Henley

  It’s a rare night when Lincoln decides studying is more important than going out, but alas, tonight is such a night.

  “This is so boring,” he whines, flopping back on my pillow.

  We’re sitting on my bed, at opposite ends, with books stretched between us. Lincoln has been complaining every few minutes, throwing his books and trying to distract me. He’s literally the worst study partner I’ve ever had, but he’s so freaking gorgeous that I can’t really be mad.

  The only reason he decided to stay in tonight, and convinced me to do so too by bribing me with calzones and sex, is because he has a huge exam coming up in one of his education courses. Midterms are coming up, and almost everyone on campus is bugging out. Not me, though. I’m doing so well in my courses that I don’t need to worry about it. Plus, all of my exams are project based and I kick ass at what I’m studying to do, and I can admit that with a cocky confidence.

  “You’re literally the worst studier I’ve ever seen in my life.” I chuckle.

  “I don’t even need this shit. I’m going to be a football player, and that’s it. You get to go to school for the thing you love, photography. Why can’t I simply attend this school and just focus on football twenty-four seven?”

  “Because that’s not the way this works, and you know it. Two more years, Stallion, and you can do that all the time. But if you don’t pass this class, you can say goodbye to that football field. So you need to study.” I give him a stern look.

  “Oh, I like you when you’re bossy. Come be my teacher, Jimmy.” Lincoln tries to grab for me, his voice going all porny.

  I kick a leg out at him. “Stop it, you’re deflecting. And trying to distract. We’ve barely been at this an hour. I don’t want my boyfriend getting kicked off the team and out of school because he can’t remember which grade level sex education is taught in.”

  “Oh, I’ll teach you about sex education, you don’t have to worry about that.” He all but tackles me until we’re lying on top of our textbooks with him in between my thighs.

  Lincoln swoops down and kisses me gently, with a teasing smirk, before I can protest any further.

  And damn, why is he so good at this? I could fail out of Warchester with him as my boyfriend. The distractions are endless.

  Boyfriend.

  I could have told him no. I could have rejected his offer to be his girlfriend, to be a couple. Right there, on that sidewalk, I could have ended this entire thing and it still would have hurt him. I saw it in Lincoln’s eyes as he was pouring his heart out. I could have shattered his feelings and been able to cross off that bucket list item successfully.

  But … I want to be his girlfriend. I want him to be my boyfriend. And if I’m being honest, it has nothing to do with getting revenge for Catherine. Oh, I can lie to myself all day long, convince myself that I’m only bringing him in deeper, hoping he’ll fall in love blindly, to then turn around and really hurt him on a cellular level.

  That’s just not true though. When he was standing in front of me, telling me all the ways he cared about me, I was just a girl and he was just a boy. Two people who really have formed something. And it scares the shit out of me.

  I’m committed to completing Catherine’s list, but how am I going to do that now? When Lincoln means so much to me. When I’ve realized that he’s the only guy I might truly want to be with. Panic has begun to set in.

  I could move forward with my plan and potentially break both of our hearts. I could ignore it, betraying Catherine and feeling guilty for the rest of my life. I could come clean to Lincoln, tell him about the list and see his reaction. If I tell the truth about it, he can’t be that mad. Right?

  Or, I could shove this to the back of my brain and procrastinate doing anything. Living in the moment is so college, and I’m grasping onto that for now.

  “Come on, you have to study!” I try to shove at his chest.

  “I need a break,” he whines, getting off me to sit upright on the bed.

  “Fine, but let’s have a snack and watch something.”

  If we had sex right now, we’d surely be done studying for the rest of the night. Lincoln and naked skin is a dangerous combination. Plus, I am hungry.

  “Fine. But only if you make that popcorn.” He rubs his hands together and grabs my remote.

  The kind of popcorn Mom buys and ships to me in a package has become Lincoln’s new favorite snack. He ransacks my room and cleans it of all food by the time he stays the night. The guy is a human garbage disposal.

  As soon as I hit the buttons on my microwave for the popcorn setting, I bounce back to the bed and grab the remote from him.

  “Nope, my turn. Last week I had to watch an entire tournament of hockey, and that’s not even your sport.” I stick my tongue out.

  Lincoln chuckles. “Sports are sports, babe, I don’t discriminate.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “Babe? No. If you want to be affectionate, it’s Jimmy.”

  The smile on his lips is pressed into my forehead. “You’re my Jimmy.”

  I flip through the documentaries on Netflix, most of the murder ones I already watched. And then a new one catches my eye. “Oh! Let’s watch this!”

  “Not another one of these,” Lincoln complains. “I’ve seen enough police evidence photos and blood spatter residue to last a lifetime, thanks to you.”

  The microwave goes off and I hop off the bed, prancing across the room. “Come on, I love this kind of stuff. And you wanted to date me, so you made your bed.”

  Lincoln’s grin is devilish. “And I’d love to unmake yours.”

  I roll my eyes as I join him with the bowl of popcorn, that he immediately starts to devour. I press play on the documentary, and we’re quiet for a few minutes.

  An idea strikes me.

  “If I asked you to help me bury a body, what would you say?” I ask him, snuggling back into his arms.

  I can hear Lincoln thinking. “I would want to know the details. Who was it? Why did you kill them? What’s the plan for avoiding detection?”

  I scoff. “Jeez, good to know you wouldn’t help me in a time of need! You’re not supposed to have questions, you’re just supposed to be my ride or die. I won’t be fucking calling you if I murder someone. You might as well call the cops on me.”

  He pushes up, scooting so he can look at my face. “No, no, I take it back! I’ll be your ride or die. No questions asked. I’ll chop up body parts for you, Dexter-style. Put em in bags—”

  “No, you already gave your answer. Your help when burying a body comes with strings attached, or questions that is. You’ve made your loyalty clear.” I hold a hand up, teasing him.

  “I’d do anything for you, Henley.” Lincoln’s tone is more serious, all the banter we’ve been swapping back and forth over the last minute all but gone.

  My heart does a nosedive straight to my feet. Because I can tell he really meant that.

  And now that I’m stuck between a rock, Lincoln, a hard place, and Catherine’s list … what would I do for him?

  Would I be willing to choose him over the best friend I ever had?

  28

  Lincoln

  She’s up there, in the stands.

  My first game as a starter, and my girl is in the stands. Who knew I’d ever be saying the words, “my girl.” Certainly not me. Especially when it came to football season.

  I’ve always been the kind of man who thought that having a woman in my life, that dating, would be a distraction. Love was just for suckers, even if girls were fun, and I wouldn’t be the kind of person to fall into it without control over my internal organs.

  Except now, I’m exactly that person. My nerves are rife with adrenaline just knowing that Henley is going to be watching me start my first game for Warchester. And bringing her here, to California where the game is going to be played, it’
s a big deal. Only players with serious girlfriends, or sometimes even wives, do that. But I knew, when I got the call from Coach that I’d be starting, that I wanted Henley there with me. She was my support system, and even though we’d only been seeing each other for a couple of months, and dating officially even less than that, she was quickly becoming my everything.

  If I’m telling the truth, I’m in love with Henley. Not that I can say that to her yet. It’ll freak her the fuck out, so badly that she’ll go running to some place I probably won’t be able to find her.

  “Kolb, I want to see precision tonight.” Coach points his finger at me on the sidelines, and I jump up and down, like I’m preparing to go into a cage and slaughter my opponent.

  I’d won the last three games as the second half starter and had outshined the junior quarterback by a mile. I worked hard at practice, stayed late, got up early to go to the weight room, and supported my teammates as much as I could. It was nothing against their former starter, but this was my time.

  The national anthem begins to play, and my blood courses through my ears. I was destined for this, made to be here in this moment. And made to excel beyond this. I’m so amped up, it feels like my bones could jump out of my body with just the smallest jostle.

  Before I listen to Coach, before I march out onto that field to do battle with my guys, I glance up. Fifty yard line, eight rows back. I know that’s where she is because I got her the tickets, wanted her right in my sight line.

  Henley’s eyes are glued to mine, the surety in them so fierce that it makes me even cockier than I was coming into this. I’m going to win this. For my team, for me. For her.

  She gives me a single nod, and I give it right back, knowing that whatever happens, I’m coming home to her later.

  How is it that the concerns I always used to have seem less worrisome, now that I have her? It’s like the stress I used to feel, or the problems I’d create, they’ve just dissipated now that I have someone I love more than myself. Is that what all the fuss is about? Is that why men have gone to war over this, why couples have walked through fire just to be together?

  Because I’d do both of those for Henley.

  The captains walk out for the coin toss, and I’m not one of them. Understandable, as I’m only a freshman, but I plan to be walking to midfield soon enough to claim heads or tails. I’m the quarterback now, and I plan to be the leader of this team, even if I’m the youngest guy on the roster.

  And then it’s time. Time for me to march out onto the field, command my troops, and execute plays. I was born for this, I’ve been working my entire life to get here.

  Within the first five minutes, we’ve scored two touchdowns. One rushing and one with me at the helm, throwing a gorgeous sixty-yard pass to one of my wide receivers.

  Come the two-minute warning, Warchester is winning fifty-five to seventeen.

  As I run off the field when the final whistle blows, teammates clapping my back and coaches yelling in my ear that I’m a goddamn genius, there is only one set of eyes I search for.

  When I find them, I glimpse tears. Henley is crying for me. They’re running down her face in happy little rivulets, and my heart beats so hard against my rib cage that I’m sure it’ll burst free.

  It’s at this moment that I know, even if she isn’t saying it, that she loves me, too.

  29

  Henley

  “I don’t think I can do this.”

  The instructor pulls the strap at my leg, essentially cutting off my circulation while also giving me some sort of weird, sexual adult diaper. The harness would highlight any man’s package, but on a woman, it’s just digging into places I never wanted to have something dug into.

  “You’re the one who ‘promised’ her friend. And now we’re here, so you can’t chicken out.” Lincoln’s smile is on full megawatt brightness, and he seems to welcome the idea of death we’re about to invite.

  Meanwhile, his package is highlighted … and looks more enormous than ever. How is it fair that I have the biggest camel toe of my life, and he looks like some boner god as the rest of the females standing on this bridge eye his cock through his basketball shorts.

  We’re standing at the top of the Bridge to Nowhere in El Segundo, California, helmets on and eyes glued to the rocks hundreds of feet below. And for the first time since I was given this list by a dying Catherine, I am questioning one of the items on it. It wasn’t dying my perfectly blond hair or camping in a goddamn tent. It wasn’t even tricking her ex-boyfriend into loving me and then breaking his heart. No, I had no problem with those questionable tasks.

  Well, at least not until I was falling head first in love with the ex-boyfriend. Now it’s a damn problem but it wasn’t in the beginning.

  No, it’s bungee jumping that’s got me shook, and now I’m wondering what the hell Catherine was thinking when she put this on here.

  When Lincoln asked if I’d accompany him to his game out here, I looked up one of the only certified bungee jumping places in the continental US. It’s about an hour from the site of the stadium he won the game at last night, and since we had an extra day out here before having to return to Warchester for classes, we decided to come out here. I’d told him that a friend, the same one I promised I’d go camping, had influenced me. He hadn’t pushed, which I was thankful for.

  “Yeah, but I don’t think I can do this.” I wriggle myself, not sure how I’m going to get free of this bungee.

  Especially when I’m strapped to my boyfriend.

  Lincoln insisted on doing a jump together; he said he’d like to feel my boobs pressed against him if he was about to die. Not to mention, he could get in serious trouble from his coaches if they found out we were doing this. So, I capitulated, since I was the one who asked him to come do this in the first place.

  “Too bad. ’Cause we’re up.” He shimmies us so that I have to follow, since I’m strapped to his body.

  I will say, I got some beautiful photos of other people plummeting to their deaths. Of course, I’d brought my camera, never one to pass up a unique situation to photograph. While Lincoln and I were waiting for our scheduled time slot, I shot some of the other jumpers. The material was really great, and I knew that it would really impress Kyle, my photography professor. He’d become somewhat of a mentor throughout the semester and was even talking about helping me nab an internship at one of the prestigious magazines he had affiliations at.

  But apparently, I was going to risk all that to plummet to my own death.

  We’re helped up onto the jumping ledge by the professionals who have already schooled us in how to fall, how to dangle, and all the other safety stuff we had to take in the pre-jump course. Which was only thirty minutes ago. How I’m supposed to prevent myself from serious brain injury when I was only taught how to do so less than an hour ago is beyond me.

  I close my eyes as they count us down, every limb stricken with paralyzing fear.

  “You’re going to do this. It’s going to be incredible,” Lincoln whispers in my ear and places a kiss over my lobe.

  It distracts me just enough that I don’t see it coming when he tips us over the edge. A blood-curdling scream leaves my throat as we fall, the freeness of it almost eclipsing the sheer terror. Lincoln is yelling and laughing all at the same time, and it’s too intense, so I shut my eyes.

  I think of Catherine, picture her face. She’s smiling, one of her effervescent, blissful grins that always made me giggle just a bit. She would have been terrified of this, but after the initial fear seized her, she would have loved this.

  So, I focus on that. I hold tight to Lincoln, open my eyes and stare at the landscape around us as we fall. I wish I could capture this with my camera; I wish that Catherine could have seen this for herself.

  Even though I know this is mere seconds, the fall seems like hours. The canyon and the water seem to stop, our bodies going in slow motion, and I press my cheek against the boy I’m not only falling with, but falling for.
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br />   Once I let go of the fear and allow the tranquilness of this to set in, my bones relax and complete calm settles over my body. When the tether hits its restraint as we hit the bottom of the rope, I’m not even nervous for the recoil.

  No, I welcome it, laughing like a fool as we bounce back and forth, our bodies flying this way and that.

  And when we finally come to a stop, hanging together like bats, our hands almost able to touch the water below, I look at Lincoln.

  His lips come over mine, and the urgent kiss sweeps my body into a flurry of goose bumps.

  “That was …” He trails off, wonder lighting up his face.

  “I know.” I nod, knowing exactly the words he can’t say.

  As we’re getting unhooked from our harnesses, I feel Lincoln’s eyes roaming over my body. My nipples harden, and I’m panting. I could blame it on the whole cheating death thing, but I know what this is.

  I want to fuck the life out of him, and I want to return the favor.

  Something about the adrenaline of it, the raw feeling of almost dying but surviving the fall, it gets to you. I feel like my whole body is vibrating, operating on some other level, and the only thing I want to do is shed all of my clothes and have Lincoln bury himself inside me.

  By the way he’s squeezing my hand, I know he’s about to whip out his cock and thrust it at me. We’re both turned on to the highest degree, our bodies pinging electric currents off each other on the maximum setting of desire.

  I can barely keep my hands off of Lincoln in the rented car we drove out here. My lips are on his neck, his fingers dance across my covered thighs, and he moves one of my hands to feel the rigid swell of his cock through his shorts.

  “If you don’t stop, I’m going to have to pull this car over right here and fuck you in the back seat,” Lincoln growls.

  “So get us to the hotel faster.” I moan, knowing we’re just minutes away.