Page 15 of Good Girl’s Guide to Love (Guide to Love #4)

linc

“You? You’re her boyfriend?”

“I am. And you are?”

Obviously I’m not. I don’t even know my supposed girlfriend’s name. But from the second I saw the cute nurse from the children’s hospital while I was standing on stage with my teammates, I couldn’t stop looking at her.

I don’t know how I saw her. It’s not like the karaoke stage has the bright lights of the Grand Ole Opry, but there is a spotlight, meaning that when me and my boys were making asses of ourselves, I could only see a little bit of the audience.

But I could see her clear as day.

When I saw that smarmy jackass approach her, and her reaction to him, my feet were already marching toward their table. Where I came up with the idea of saying I’m her boyfriend? That I’m not sure.

Dipshit puffs out his chest, which doesn’t do much considering I’m close to a foot taller than him. “Dr. Jonathan Ainsworth. Her boyfriend.”

“Ex,” my new girlfriend says quickly. “He’s my ex -boyfriend.”

Oh, this is going to be good...

“Huh. You never mentioned him, babe. Must not’ve been that important.” I lay it on thick as I step in front of her, blocking out Dr. Dipshit. I lean down, making it look like I’m kissing her cheek. “Are you okay?”

I’m so close I can feel her skin against mine as she squints and tips her head side to side. I push down the warmness I feel, simply because we have a bigger task at hand.

“Do you trust me?”

The question is a lot to ask of a stranger. She doesn’t know me from Adam. I’m sure by now she knows my name, and depending on if she’s a football fan, she probably knows my reputation. Which means she might just say no.

That’s why I feel a new rush of heat surge through me when I simply hear one word.

“Yes.”

I smile and give her a small kiss on her cheek, one that lingers a little longer than it probably should, but hey, I’m her boyfriend, aren’t I? “Then follow my lead.”

I turn back around and pull—fuck, I forgot to ask her name, again—girlfriend into me, throwing my arm over her shoulder for a little extra emphasis. “Sorry, Jimmy. I hadn’t seen my girl here all day. I’m sure you remember what that’s like.”

“It’s Jonathan.”

“What’s Jonathan?”

“My name.”

I almost have to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

It’s so easy to get under this guy’s skin.

“Apologies. But anyway, I hadn’t seen her all day.

That’s what happens when it’s almost football season.

You a Fury fan? I’m Linc Kincaid by the way, starting tight end.

Anyway… Babe? You want to come over to our section? The guys can’t wait to see you.”

I start to pull her away when dipshit steps in front of us.

“Why are you calling her that?”

I’m confused for only a second before recalling the few names I’ve used for her. “Well, I call her my girl, you know, because she is. And babe? I don’t know. It’s just always felt right. Wait. What did you call her? Did I repeat? God, James, I’m sorry. I hate being unoriginal.”

Girlfriend’s face lights up and dipshit’s becomes as red the lights coming from the stage.

“I didn’t. She hates nicknames.”

“Huh. Weird,” I say, pulling her in closer so I can kiss her temple. You know, for emphasis. “She’s never had a problem with me using it. Must’ve been a you problem.”

To say that I’ve been an antagonizer my entire life would be an understatement.

From a young age, I knew how to get under people’s skin.

Over the years it’s served me well—and gotten me into trouble.

In football, it allows me to get into the head of whoever’s covering me, throwing them off their game before I go out to pull in a pass.

Who knew I could use this power for good, piss off a dipshit, and save a beautiful woman? All without raising a fist. Look at me, evolving.

“I don’t know who you are,” Dipshit says, stepping up to face me. It’s comical, really. I have to literally look down on him, which is also why I can see that whoever glued his toupee on did a horrible fucking job. “But you aren’t Ainsley’s boyfriend. She doesn’t date tattooed thugs like you.”

Ainsley…what a beautiful name. I don’t know what I expected it to be, but it wasn’t that. But I like it. It’s so…her.

As for the name Dipshit called me, I’ve been called much worse by men who have the height and weight to turn me into a greasy spot on the field, so I don’t know why dipshit’s little dig is making me see red right now.

I ball my fists, doing my best to temper my anger, when I see my six-foot-four, three-hundred- and-fifty-pound best friend step up next to me. “Everything okay here?”

“We’re just fine,” I say. “I didn’t realize my girl here had come in with her sidekick, so I thought I’d bring them over to our section, if that’s okay?”

I level a look to Wyatt, who hopefully picked up on my use of the words “my girl.” Luckily, this man knows me well enough to know that something’s up, and now he’s just along for the ride.

“Absolutely,” Wyatt says as he walks over to her friend. “Come on. We’ve got drinks waiting and a queue full of karaoke songs.”

Wyatt holds out his arm for Ainsley’s friend, and I keep my hand on the small of her back as she grabs her purse off the table. Dr. Dipshit looks on in disbelief.

“See ya, Jimothy,” I say, giving him a slap on the shoulder. “Actually. No. I don’t want to see you. Because you’re the ex. I’m the now. And neither of us want to live in the past.”

“Holy Moses, what was that!”

I laugh at Ainsley’s choice of words. “Holy Moses?”

“She doesn’t swear,” the sidekick explains, extending her hand to me. “That one is in her regular rotation. I’m Mia, by the way.”

“Linc,” I say, shaking her hand back. “And this guy who came in as my backup is Wyatt.”

“Oh, I know,” Mia says as she turns to Wyatt, a smile on her face that says she knows exactly what, and who, she wants. “Offensive guard. Played on the left in college but transitioned to the right side as a pro. Played with Linc at Mississippi State.”

Wyatt’s eyes light up. The man is a sucker for a woman who can throw some stats his way. “You know your football.”

Mia shrugs. “I dabble.”

I smirk as the two of them fall into a conversation, which I’m sure is going to lead to things that will end tomorrow morning. I know how Wyatt operates, and judging by Mia’s boldness, he’s about to have a fun night.

Which is fine by me. With him distracted, I can concentrate exactly where I want: on my, at least tonight, fake girlfriend.

“I need to thank you,” Ainsley says. “I don’t know where you came from, or how you knew to come in and intervene, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to thank you enough.”

“You don’t need to thank me at all,” I say. “But are you okay? I could tell that you were shaken up, and then it seemed like he was getting rough.”

Ainsley nods, her crystal blue eyes looking down for a second before meeting mine again.

“Jonathan. I haven’t seen him in a few years.

Since we broke up. He moved, and I didn’t know he was back in town until he showed up out of nowhere.

I was shocked when he said he was moving back to town and that he wanted to get back together.

I froze. I don’t know what would’ve happened if… ”

She trails off, and I push back the anger that I thought had subsided. He looks like the kind of guy who can’t take a hint, or thinks his title of doctor gets him things he hasn’t earned. Now I’m even more glad I stepped in.

Though I do wish I wasn’t on a strict no-fighting warning. It would’ve been satisfying to bust his nose open.

“No thanks needed,” I say. “Well, except maybe one thing.”

She looks almost relieved that I’m asking something of her. “Anything. Well, maybe not anything. Anything is a lot. But my brother knows a lot of people, so maybe anything is closer than I think?”

I laugh because this rambling is definitely different than the girl I first met who said all of three words. “I don’t think we’ll be needing him. I just think now that I’ve run you over, saved you, and at least for tonight, am your boyfriend, maybe we can have a proper introduction?”

Her cheeks turn rosy. Damn. She’s fucking adorable.

“Yes. I’m Ainsley Banks.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Ainsley. I’m Linc. Linc Kincaid.”

Her blush deepens. “Yeah, I know.”

I swallow the frog in my throat, hoping that it’s not because she’s a fan of sports gossip. “I hope I wasn’t out of bounds before. It just looked like you needed help, and well, a lot of times I act without thinking.”

She smiles and shakes her head. “That’s how most of my family operates, so I’m used to it.”

“Not how you operate?”

She shakes her head and sends me a bashful smile. “Oh no. I’m the oddball in that sense. I overthink everything and then usually don’t do it because of the one thing that could go wrong, even if there’s a million things that could go right.”

“So you’re not a risk taker?”

“Absolutely not,” she says with a laugh that hits me square in the chest. It’s light and a little shy. And right now, I’m not as mad as I was that Wyatt dragged me out tonight. “Coming here tonight was as big of a risk as I’ve taken in…well…longer than I care to admit.”

“I mean, I get that,” I say as I look up at the stage and see two people singing a duet that sounds more like cats dying. “Karaoke can be intimidating if you don’t like putting yourself out there. Or, you know, risking your dignity.”

“Oh I could never get on stage. I meant just physically coming here. I’ll never actually sing. That’s way too much.”

I laugh and grab a beer out of one of the buckets in the VIP area the team secured for tonight. “Want one?”

She shakes her head. “No, thank you. I don’t drink.”

“Really?” I ask. “So you don’t drink. You don’t swear. And coming here was a risk?”

She nods, that blush coming back over her cheeks. Goddamn it, if she keeps doing that I’m going to keep wondering where else she’s blushing…

“That’s me. Your boring, good girl.”