Page 44 of Good Girl’s Guide to Love (Guide to Love #4)

ainsley

“There she is, the most popular woman in Nashville.”

I roll my eyes as Quinn walks into Maeve’s house, Grace in her arms. “I’m not the most popular woman in Nashville.”

“Maybe not the most popular, but one of the most envied.” Stella offers her two cents as she walks into the expansive living room of Maeve and Logan’s mansion. I don’t even know if mansion is a big enough word. This house could have its own zip code.

“You guys are exaggerating.” I do my best to play off their words as I set down the two large pizzas and breadsticks we ordered for our girls’ night. “This town is filled with country legends and actresses and beautiful people everywhere you look.”

“That may be true,” Stella says as she brings up something on her phone. “But not every one of those people has the Fury’s hottest player looking at them like this.”

When Stella shows me her phone, I actually lose my breath for a second. I knew there were pictures of Linc and I from our date two nights ago. I thought I’d seen all the pictures that magically showed up on social media the next day.

But I didn’t see this one.

We’re sitting at the bench at the river.

Our ice cream is long gone, and Linc’s arm is draped on the back of the bench.

I’m transported back to that moment, his fingers lazily tracing random patterns across my skin.

I had goosebumps all night, and it wasn’t from any chill in the air.

I don’t know what he said in this moment, but I can tell I’m laughing.

Relaxed. Not worried if we were being photographed or overthinking a single thing.

Then there’s Linc. While my eyes are looking down at the moment, his aren’t. They’re looking right at me, the dimple in his cheek enhanced by his small smile.

And I think he wanted to kiss me.

I had this thought that night as well, but I chalked it up to the romantic setting of the moonlight hitting the river and the show we’d been putting on for whoever Katie sent to follow us. But seeing this? Now I’m not so sure.

Could he? No. He’s been adamant about this not being real. But would he have done it for the plot? Maybe. But would he have looked at me like this? If so, maybe his job after football should be acting, because just looking at this picture, my body is tingling and the butterflies are butterflying.

Snap.

“Why’d you do that?”

Biscuits! I didn’t think anyone was paying attention to me when I pulled on my handy dandy rubber band. “Nervous habit I’ve developed. Anyway, how is everyone?”

Maeve’s eyebrow raise tells me she doesn’t buy it, but luckily my oldest sister doesn’t press on. “I’m fine. But don’t think you’re off the hook just yet.”

“Yes. Because I need to know if this look led to a kiss, because holy shit that look almost got me pregnant.”

“You have a man, Quinn,” Stella says. “I’m sure Porter will get you good and pregnant whenever you’re ready.”

“Oh no,” she says, setting Grace up on the floor in front of us with a host of toys. “Was just a figure of speech, baby sister. Miss Ma’am here is all we can handle for a little while.”

As if on cue, Grace lets out an excited shriek, clapping her hands for extra effect. Because we’re dutiful aunts, we return the applause, and for just a minute, I think that the spotlight is off of me and onto the cute toddler.

I could only be so lucky.

“Okay, so was there like, a lot of tongue? He’s one of those guys that takes your face in his hands and puts you where he wants you, isn’t he?”

“For fuck’s sake, Quinn…”

“What!” she exclaims to Maeve. “I’ve been waiting years, emphasis on the plural form of year, to have this kind of talk with Ainsley. Years!”

“We were out in public,” I say, which isn’t a lie. I know where Quinn wants to take this conversation, and I hate to tell my sister she’s about to be vastly disappointed.

“That didn’t stop you at the karaoke bar.”

I level a look to Stella, who’s giving me a fake-innocent smile. “That was extenuating circumstances.”

“So what you’re saying is that if you’re drunk, you’ll kiss in public?”

“Really, Maeve? You too?”

She just shrugs and sits back with her wine glass in hand. “Just calling it like I see it.”

“Fine,” I concede. “Yes, the kissing in public was a product of what was a crazy night and random circumstances that I guarantee will never happen again. From here on out, all kissing that I choose to do will be in private.”

“I don’t know,” Stella says. “If Emmett looked at me like that? I don’t know if I could’ve waited for privacy.”

I might say I wanted privacy, but Stella’s not wrong.

I wouldn’t have cared if cameras were right next to me.

A full country concert could’ve been playing behind us, and I probably wouldn’t have known.

If Linc would’ve kissed me in that moment, I’d have been done for.

And no rubber band could’ve snapped me out of it.

“Well, we did,” I fib, because I can’t tell them that he didn’t. That would make them ask more questions. “And it was a very nice kiss.”

“Nice?” Quinn asks as she reaches over to grab a slice of pepperoni. “You say nice about flowers. Actually no, nice is reserved for a bouquet of carnations or an ugly sweater that Great Aunt Doris knitted for you that you have to pretend to like.”

“We have a Great Aunt Doris?” I ask.

“Is she the one on mom’s side who makes the pies but the crust is always burnt?”

Maeve shakes her head to Stella. “No, that’s Dad’s cousin, Leslie.”

“We don’t have a Great Aunt Doris! It was hypothetical and not the point!” Quinn takes a few calming breaths and assures Grace that everything is okay. “All I’m saying is that if a kiss with Linc is only nice, then one of you is doing something wrong.”

“Don’t say that,” Maeve says, slapping her arm. “Let this girl have her moment. And her own adjectives. If it’s nice, then let her have nice.”

Nice is a safe word to use to describe my foggy memory of kissing Linc. Because what I actually remember is fire and heat and never wanting to stop. But I’m sure that was a product of the crazy night and the liquor. So for now, we’ll go with nice.

“Thank you, Maeve,” I say. “Now, can we talk about something else?”

I take a breadstick out of the box, and one of the many cups of ranch that came with it.

I knew the conversation would be like this when Maeve suggested that we come over for pizza and wine—and my water.

It’s been a while since the four of us have hung out, and Logan was taking her son to the arcade for some bonus dad-son time, so we have the house to ourselves.

Which means no prying ears of my eight-year-old nephew, giving my sisters cart blanche to ask me whatever they want about Linc.

Sure, there’s Grace, but she’s one. She can’t understand us. Hopefully. She does live with Quinn, though.

“Sorry, can’t do,” Stella says. “Because Quinn’s right, we’ve been waiting years for this conversation. And we have to know…”

“Know what?”

The three of them look to each other then back to me. I don’t know the rest of Stella’s question, but judging by their looks, heightened eyebrows, tilted heads, I think they think I should know.

I don’t.

“Damn, she’s so innocent,” Quinn says. “How’s the sex? And if you say nice, I swear to fucking God I’m going to riot.”

“Quinn! Language!” I say, reaching down and picking Grace off the floor. I cover her ears for dramatic effect, but really, I’m trying to stall while I figure out how to answer this.

“It’s fine. If she learns it now, I won’t need to have the sex talk with her when she’s older.”

“Lucky her,” Maeve says sarcastically.

The two of them start bickering in only the way sisters can, which is great for me. And Grace even helps me out by reaching for my cell phone. She knows Aunt Ainsley has the good games for her to play.

What do I say? I have to speak the truth.

I’m already telling them a gigantic lie that’s killing me inside.

My conscience can’t add another. Plus, these are my sisters.

The women who know me better than anyone in the world.

Sure, they might be hoping that Linc and I are having sex, but when I tell them we’re not, they’re going to think something is up.

Or worse—they’re going to judge me in that sisterly way.

Unfortunately, I feel like that’s my best option.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but Linc and I haven’t slept together yet.”

“Ah, man,” Quinn groans. “I really wanted to know if he could actually pick you up and hold you against a wall.”

My eyes double in size. “What are you talking about? Why would he do that?”

Quinn winks at me. “Well, he could go down on his knees so he has a better angle to?—”

“Stop!” I yell, not wanting to put images into my head that I won’t be able to get out. For better or worse. “What is it with you and Mia and men holding you against walls?”

“Just you wait and see, sister. Just you wait and see…”

I don’t let my mind go down that rabbit hole. “Well, that hasn’t happened. Nor has much else. We’ve only been dating a few weeks, and our schedules are crazy. Plus, we kind of started this in a whirlwind. We’re good with taking the other things slow.”

There. Was it a fib? Yes. But at least I’m now not having to make up the sex things we’ve done that I’m sure would either be wrong or so boring that Quinn would demand to take me to a Kama sutra class.

“That’s understandable,” Maeve says. “We know you like to take your time with things, so I, for one, am glad that you two are waiting.”

“Thank you,” I say.

“Yes, sorry if we bombarded you,” Stella adds. “It was just fun to think about, considering our sister is now in a hot relationship and not with…”

Stella trails off, but Quinn finishes the thought for her. “Doctor Dweeb.”

Normally I’d defend Jonathan, and say he wasn’t that bad, but after how he’s been acting since he arrived back in town, dweeb isn’t a strong enough word. And what I really want to call him I won’t, because it’s words I’ve never said out loud before.