Finding You by Hendrix Lena

Author:Hendrix, Lena [Hendrix, Lena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Contemporary, Adult
Amazon: B091V6X69L
Goodreads: 57506115
Publisher: Lena Hendrix
Published: 2021-05-26T07:00:00+00:00

TWENTY

JOANNA

All I wanted was to get a quick dinner and spend the night wallowing in my dingy motel room. Seeing Lincoln perched on a stool in a dark corner of the bar was a shot to my system.

Once our eyes locked, I knew I couldn’t hide from him. I quickly decided I was just going to face him head-on. It wasn’t the first time I’d been friend-zoned, and it wouldn’t be the last.

As it turned out, our conversation was easy, natural almost. Though I felt a tingle every time I heard Lincoln’s deep laugh—it rumbled through me and a warmth spread down between my legs. I tried to push those warm feelings away. He agreed that we could be friends . . . We even shook on it.

But damn. He looked so delicious. There was something about his dark, moody, scruffy exterior that just worked for me. It worked for the majority of the women in the bar too. I wasn’t a fool and could see the envious glances that were shot my way. God, why did I suggest we could be friends?

I tried to focus on the band—Colin was impressively talented, and I couldn’t believe I never knew that about him. I hummed along to the cover songs I knew and willed myself to just enjoy the moment and completely ignore the desire to crawl into Lincoln’s lap in the dark corner of the bar. But I loved the way his T-shirt fit tightly across his muscular chest. His dark hair, short at the sides but longer at the top, was begging me to run my fingers through it, pull just a little. If our time after his shower was any indication, Lincoln liked his sex just a little rough. Every time he took a sip of his beer, I had to look away and not think about his full lips as they found the thin skin on my neck.

I couldn’t help myself, and I asked about his tattoos. I had to know if the wings on his forearm really had been Valkyrie and if there was any connection to the letters I had written him so many years ago.

None of them are special.

Those words gutted me. I tried to hide the tears that burned at the corners of my eyes. When he covered them with his hand, I couldn’t help but share the sadness that crept into his eyes. There was something there—deep and dark—that was haunting Lincoln Scott.

A rolling ache spread across my chest. I wanted nothing more than to take away the sadness that darkened his expression. I was relieved when the moment passed almost as quickly as it had come.

A silent war waged inside me—I was supposed to be his friend, but all I could think about were the stolen moments we’d shared this weekend. Lincoln was still a mystery to me. He was dark and moody but also had a witty sense of humor and wasn’t afraid to laugh at himself. I craved more of those moments where he shed his tough exterior.

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