Page 33 of Burden of Proof

“Interest,” I said, because it felt like the truth.

“No wonder you were giving up escorting if you catch feelings for every John you fuck,” he said, laughing bitterly.

“I never caught feeling for any of them,” I said, hushed. “I started the work on accident, and I kept it up because I was lonely and bored.”

“And now?”

“You’re far from boring,” I told him.

Lincoln made a noise I couldn’t make sense of, then said, “I’ve got to go.”

“Can I see you later?”

“Why?” he rasped.

“Do you want the truth?”

“Always.”

I leaned against the closed door of the stall, pressing as much of my overheated neck against the cool metal as I could manage.

“Partly because I want to talk and partly because I do really want to see your face when you come.”

On the other end of the call, Lincoln sucked in a sharp breath.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that video since you posted it. Haven’t stopped thinking about you since last Friday.”

He groaned. “What do you do for work, Hunter?”

“I’m a lawyer.”

“So, of course you know the right things to…fuck…” Lincoln stopped talking, and there was indistinct noise in the background of the call. “Just listening to a voicemail, Si. I haven’t forgot about you.”

And then the call disconnected.

“Fuck.”

I shoved my phone back into my pocket and unlocked the door. Taking a look at myself in the mirror, there was no denyingthe flush in my cheeks and the dilation of my pupils. I turned the cold water on and splashed some on my face, pressing my damp and cool hands against the back of my neck before drying them off. When I felt like I could think again, I headed back to the booth.

“Long piss,” Finn said when I slid back into my seat beside him.

“You know how it goes.”

He hummed agreeably, scratching the side of his lip.

“So, when do we want to go to San Diego?” He looked pointedly at Smith. “Do we all even want to go?”

“Silas is worried about how his best friend is adjusting to life on his own,” Marshall said, “so I’d like to stay close for them both while they sort that out.”

“Both?” I asked.

“The two of them are close,” he said. “And if you must know, I’m rather fond of Lincoln.”

Finn smirked. “Trying to start a harem or something?”

“It’s platonic,” Marshall said.

I tried to fight my frown, thinking about how close Silas and Lincoln had been Saturday morning at Marshall’s house. How they’d come so close to kissing and right in front of us both.