Page 36 of Carry On

“Clearly not hard enough,” I muttered. My fingers slid off the strings of my guitar as I debated ignoring him—not that it’d do any good. The man was persistent. I’d give him that.

I’d found a new spot in a different part of town, something across from a coffee shop. The owner was a nice guy and didn’t mind my presence there at all. Hell, he usually brought me a fresh cup of coffee at the start of the day.

I’d managed to avoid Lincoln for a week.

It’s not hard to avoid someone who isn’t looking for you,the voice commented.

Considering he was here… I found that notion hard to believe.

“Is there a reason you’re avoiding me?” Lincoln asked when I finally glanced up at him. Did the man always have to look so goddamn good? Put together, fucked over, or dead asleep, he was too attractive for his own good. And my own.

“Never said I was avoiding you,” I grumped and leaned back against the brick wall. I sighed. This man would wear down my resolve to avoid himjust by existing. What the hell was wrong with me? Why did he affect me like this? “I’m just… out here doing my thing.”

He made a sound, nodding and completely unimpressed with me.

“Come on, Nash,” Lincoln said. “I want to take you to dinner.”

“No.”

“I mean it, anything you want. I have something I want to talk to you about.”

“And if I said I wanted a steak and lobster dinner?” I didn’t. I hated seafood of any kind. I just wanted to get under his skin for having audacity.

“Do you want a steak and lobster dinner?” Lincoln demanded. When I said nothing, he rolled his eyes. “That’s what I thought. Stop being so difficult, and let’s go.”

“That is my middle name,” I told him without standing up.

“All right, Nash Difficult Calhoun, get your ass off the ground and let’s go.”

“Yeah,” I drew out the word as I considered him, “you sure as hell like being in charge, don’t you?”

“Please,” he scoffed. “We both know you’re just fine with being told what to do.”

Under the right circumstances, absolutely. This wasn’t that.

“Now, get up.”

I refused the idea of a nice restaurant—though he fucking tried—and settled on a simple diner just to get him off my back. In the end, he looked more out of place with his thousand-dollar suit than I did with my worn clothes and old work boots. At least that small fact made me feel a little better about the whole situation. Even still, I struggled with ordering anything. I was trying to save what little I did have to get my ass out of town. The items on the menu were out of my budget, which was gas station protein bars at most.

“Order whatever you want, Nash,” Lincoln said as if sensing my struggle. That was easy for him to say. This was pocket change to him. “I offered, which means it’s on me.”

He pities you, the voice cut in.

Yeah, he did, and I knew that. It wasn’t hard to figure that shit out when there was a gaping canyon between the two of us. Lincoln and I weren’t a little different. We were from completely different worlds, just two men pretending like we existed in the same space.

“I mean that,” he added softly, and my gaze flicked to him. He nodded slightly to the menu that sat open in front of me. I realized it was pointless to argue with him. If I did, he’d probably order the whole damn menu to prove a fucking point.

“You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?” I grumbled but grabbed the menu anyway. He said nothing as he waited for me to make a decision.

I picked something simple—something bland—because I didn’t think my stomach could handle more. I’d lived on quarters of protein bars, water, and alcohol for so long that I wasn’t sure my stomach could handle a full meal.

“I have a proposal,” Lincoln began after the waitress left with our orders. I arched a brow but said nothing. “I want you to marry me.”

He what?

I scowled because I had to have heard him wrong. There was no way in hell this goddamn man had said those words out loud.

“I’m going to need you to repeat that.”