While sunning ourselves on Santa Cruz beach just days before our junior year, something happened to make another ordinary day in the sand extraordinary.

Resting my head on Lincoln’s bare chest, eyes closed and face tilted up to the sun, he played with a lock of my hair while his other hand rested on my bare stomach. I was the happiest I’d been since my father’s death. Even though his parents didn’t know we were dating yet, our classmates knew we were serious, and they were pretty accepting. Ellee and her boyfriend hung out with us a few times, and once we were joined at the arcade by a handful of Lincoln’s basketball teammates who didn’t even give him the usual shit about spending all his time with me.

As he continued to massage my scalp that afternoon, my body heated to unbearable levels. The shy kiss at the museum the summer before had progressed into steamy make-out sessions under the covers of the bed in his parents’ guesthouse where we tested the limits on how far we were willing to go. His family was never around, so we were allowed ample time alone. I was nervous to go all the way with him, but ready at the same time. Lincoln was the most thoughtful and beautiful guy I had ever known. Long before I gave him my body, he already had my heart.

“Are you excited about going back to school?” I asked.

After a long moment he finally answered. “Not really. You?”

“This year’s going to be…different. Do you think your brother knows we’re more than friends?”

“I won't let that asshole bother you whether or not he does. My entire family’s messed up, Quinn. If I was ever forced to make a choice, it’d always be you.”

Sighing, I spun around on my belly to face him. Once our eyes locked, it was hard to breathe. Between his dark brown gaze and the scent of coconut sunscreen on his golden skin, I was at a loss for any rational thoughts that didn’t involve getting naked together. I steadied myself on his chest as he ran his thumb across my lips.

“I love you, Quinn.”

The words were so heartfelt and so unexpected that I almost burst into tears.

“I love you, too,” I whispered.

I swear he looked ready to cry just then. “I know I shouldn’t,” he said in a voice so faint that I almost didn’t hear him, “but I can’t seem to stop myself.”

Stomach clenched, I stopped his fingers still busy against my lips. “You mean because of where I come from?”

With a quick shake of his head, he bent in to kiss me, erasing my doubts with love and adoration. He lowered me down to my back in the sand, his lips as gentle and attentive as his caresses to my warm skin.

I didn’t give his comment any more thought, especially after we hurried back to his guest house and made love for the first time. It was sloppy and awkward because Lincoln was a virgin. I cried all the way through it because I was not.

I would’ve given anything for Lincoln to have been my first.

---

As I’m revisiting that day on the beach, I rub my empty ring finger and watch the weekend crowd enjoying the beautiful summer day. When I ran off to see Lincoln at the hotel, I left the engagement ring and all my belongings in the apartment, and spent the next several nights on my mom’s couch. My mom’s clothes fit me now that she’s put on a little more weight than her days of heavy drug use, but I’m eager to get my own back so I can at least attempt to feel normal again. With any luck, Kellen didn’t incinerate everything I left behind after I changed phone numbers. If I want contact with either of the Farrington brothers, it’ll be on my terms.

It’s funny how in the week since Lincoln’s return, my life went from being considerably messed up to utterly fucked. At least the truth began to finally repair my relationship with Mom, and even made me appreciate her struggles. All this time she thought her husband had stolen from his employer because their life together wasn’t enough. I can almost understand how it was better to be numb from drugs than deal with the falsified reality. We were far from done crying together after I told her everything, although some of the tears were shed through smiles as we re-lived better days.

As Lincoln’s confession ran through my mind every night, each time seen from a different point of view, it’s been impossible to catch any sleep despite being emotionally drained and confused by my varied emotions. While I’m not about to empathize with someone who was an accessory to my dad’s murder, a small part of me aches for the boy who was forced to watch as a man’s head was blown to bits.

Every morning Mom makes breakfast before leaving for work, and I spend the daytime cleaning her apartment, wanting to do something thoughtful for the woman I’ve neglected for too long, as well as keeping myself busy. I have no idea what I’ll do next, and need her to be okay with me as a potential roommate in case I run out of other options.

I’ve been such a mess that I knew going back to work would be a waste of my time. Pamela has been covering for me, saying my mom is attending four meetings per day in an attempt to stay sober, and needs all the support she can get. Somehow I’ll have to ask for a more permanent leave of absence without getting fired. More importantly, I need to figure out how I’ll get my hands on that account in the Caymans now that Lincoln’s out of the picture.

Before I have a chance to decide my next move, Pamela approaches me on the park bench with two coffees and a bag of donuts, her perfectly sculpted eyebrows raised over her oversized sunglasses. Per usual, she’s impeccably dressed, this time in a trendy pair of flowing white pants and a black-piping cropped top, several different length necklaces dangling over it. The recently dyed dark red hue of her long, straight hair matches her quirky personality and the slight dusting of freckles on her high cheekbones. To top it all off, she’s wearing the cutest little white fedora that makes her look like a celebrity in disguise.

With the sight of my friend, I’m able to appreciate how she’s as strikingly beautiful as she is bold and supportive. When I called her earlier with a summary of everything that’s happened, she told me she was coming to see me whether I wanted her company or not.

The thin gold bracelets on her wrist clank together as she hands me one of the paper cups. “You look way better than I expected.”

“That’s because I ran out of tears,” I grumble. “You should’ve seen me a couple days ago.” As she takes a seat next to me, I balance my coffee on my knee and slump forward. “Did Preston ride your ass about all the days I’ve missed?”

“Nah. He even let me out early yesterday, said since you’ve been gone all week, there wasn’t much for me to do anyway. He’s actually pretty chill about the whole thing.”

Relief springs into my gut as I pass her a half-hearted smile. “Thanks for covering for me. Guess I should be grateful his ex-wife was an addict.”

“I wish you would’ve told me sooner what’s going on. I can’t believe all this time you’ve been living a double life.” She responds to my smile with a deep-set scowl. “For the record, I always hated Kellen and thought you were making a colossal mistake when you told me you were engaged to him. Glad to hear you’re not serious about the asshole.”

“I’m serious about making him suffer.”

“What about this Lincoln guy…the twin? Sounds like you have a pretty intense history. You really think you’re done with him?”

“I don’t know what to think. This has been the craziest week of my life. I’m still trying to process everything.”

She stretches an arm out on the back of the bench while taking a sip of her drink, shrugging. “You’ll figure it out. If you need a place to crash until everything clears up, you’re welcome to the hideaway in my spare room. It’s not too comfortable, and you may wake in the middle of the night with Bowie lying on your face, but my shitty bed and ill-mannered dog will be good motivation for you to find your own place.”

“Thanks, I might need it. Things are better with my mom, but it’d be nice to have a little privacy. I’m honestly a little worried that Kellen hasn’t stopped by, looking for me. He’s not one of those guys who quietly walks away from something he wants.”

He’s made it crystal clear that he wants me whether I’m still game or not. The idea that he’ll continue to pursue me until he gets his way makes it hard not to run straight back into the safety of Lincoln’s arms whether or not I’m able to forgive him.

Pamela’s peach-colored nails tap on her coffee cup as her crossed leg begins to bounce. “This whole situation is making me nervous. Are you sure you don’t want the cops involved? Kellen sounds dangerous—the rest of his family too.”

“Linc’s not dangerous!” I snap. Looking away from her, I suck in a slow breath. What would it take for me to actually hate him and quit defending his honor? “At least not when it comes to me.”

“Sorry, Cam. I just mean…shit. You got yourself in pretty deep with everything. Murder? The mafia? Computer hacking? A fake engagement followed up by a real one? Do you have any idea how you’re going to fix this colossal mess?”

“Not in the slightest,” I answer with a hundred percent honesty before turning to her. “The only thing I know for certain is that I need to get my things back from Kellen’s, and I’m too afraid to go back there alone.”

Laughing brightly, my friend throws her oversized handbag onto her lap and pats the contents. “In that case, it’s your lucky day. I was finally approved for that conceal and carry while you were gone.”

The entire time we’re throwing my things into garbage bags and every decent container we can get our hands on, my heart hammers in my chest with the force of an anvil as I wait for Kellen to come flying through the door. As much as I’m accustomed to the eerie stillness of the place by now, flashbacks of sleeping with a knife the other night have my stomach flipped upside down, filling me with a sickening unease.

By some miracle, he never appears, and there’s no need for Pamela to draw her gun. We’re able to get everything I own that isn’t in storage or at my mom’s into the trunk of her sedan by lunch, with enough time to spare that I’m able to slip into a pair of skinny jeans and a tank top. We celebrate at our favorite little dive bar near the pier, drinking way more than I intend. At least when I’m buzzed, Lincoln’s betrayal hurts a little less.

While Pamela flirts with a wild group of tourists from Wisconsin, I take a stroll down the pier with my phone in hand, occasionally looking down at Lincoln’s number, the green call button below it waiting to be pushed.

If I had kept track of all the secrets we kept from each other since day one, it’s more than likely he’d be in the lead. But who am I to say my secrets weren’t any less scarring? If he loves me the way he says he does, I can’t begin to imagine how much I hurt him by announcing that I was marrying his brother. I can’t imagine what he felt when I finally admitted to what happened the night of our senior prom. I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been for him to tell me that he was there to watch my dad die.

Leaning against the railing overlooking the water, I close my eyes as the squawk of sea gulls and chill of the salty air are replaced by memories of the last week. Passionate kisses…eager touches…devotions of adoration and revenge…the way he looked at me when I brought him his favorite banana bread…nothing will ever compare to being fiercely loved by the adult version of Lincoln Farrington. If he meant half the things he said, it shouldn’t matter how we first met. Like Mom said, he cared for me when she couldn’t. When no one else did.

Although he was holding back something that would’ve saved my mom unnecessary years of heartache, he only did it because he thought he was protecting me.

Before I know it, my thumb presses on the send button. I bring my phone up to my ear, holding my breath as it rings again and again. I have no idea what I’ll say to him, but I’m dying to hear the deep rumble of his voice. I want him to tell me that we’ll find a way to work things out together. I want him to tell me that he still wants to spend the rest of our lives together.

Above all, I want to hear him say that he still loves me.

But his phone merely continues to ring before kicking into a generic voicemail. I’m not even given the satisfaction of hearing him say his own name.

“Hey…” I start slowly while attempting to swallow the sudden lump in my throat. “It’s me. I changed my number so Kellen couldn’t get a hold of me. I’m going to be staying with a friend. She helped me move my things out of the apartment. I know you’re busy training, but I really need to hear your voice, so call this number when you get a minute, okay? I…uh…miss you, Linc.”

I end the call with a heavy wave of sadness. In my heart I wanted so badly to say that I love him, and that I made a mistake when I left him at the hotel, just as he made a mistake when he left me before graduation.

Pamela has this theory about how you can forget your worries with booze, then wake with a new perspective on things, so we spend the rest of the afternoon getting hammered with the guys from Wisconsin. Turns out we’re perfectly paired as they’re in town for a bachelor party and also looking to get shit-faced. We stop drinking long enough to stuff ourselves with pizza for a late dinner, then end up at a new nightclub near South Beach.

The five handsome men, most who are in their early thirties, are sweet enough to turn down their flirting when I tell the two who are single that I’m engaged. But then I spend the next hour obsessing over whether or not I still want to marry Lincoln.

Even though I’m seeing double around the time midnight rolls around, I continue to check my phone every ten minutes, hopeful Lincoln will return my call, and almost burst out of my skin when an unknown number pops onto my screen with an incoming call. I answer it with heavy reluctance, still not completely convinced that I’m ready to speak to him. My heart says otherwise, skipping with the idea of hearing his voice again. Whether or not he played a part in my father’s death, I still love both the sweet boy who was my entire world, and the fierce man who wants to protect me.

“Quinn?” Between loud noises in the background, a spotty connection, and the obvious strain on his voice, I can barely hear him.

I hold my hand over my other ear and step out into the hallway. “Linc! What’s going on? Where are you?”

“Kellen…knows about us…worried he’ll…something to hurt you.”

Panic swells in my throat until I can’t breathe. “Are you okay? Did he threaten you?”

“He wants to meet…Luxco…tomorrow night…ten o’clock.”

“I’ll be there!” I promise, squeezing the phone tighter when met with a loud burst of static. “Linc, are you there? Did you hear me? I’ll be there!”

When my phone chimes with the disconnected call, I make a promise to myself. If anything happens to Lincoln, I’ll kill Kellen myself.