8. Bryanna

My confusion and anger comes to the surface again right after I finish one more cupcake and my caramel macchiato. Don’t laugh. It’s like my body knows what I need so it urged me to feed on some energy before prosecuting what my heart want.

Probably twenty minutes behind Adrian’s departure, I put the remaining cupcakes in the fridge and head straight to shower. I have one mission and I want to get my hand on it as fast as I can.

I cannot wait to tell Lincoln what’s on my mind.

I cannot wait to tell him to shove his unneeded judgement to where the sun don’t shine.

An hour later—God, I hate driving in this city—I charge into Stewart’s, having no care about the closed sign on the door. I know he is here. He must be. There’s no other place Lincoln will be but here.

The brightly lit room welcomes me. But the broody butthole behind the bar?

Not so much.

Lincoln stares me down like he doesn’t have any idea what I am doing here. Well, maybe he doesn’t, but it is just because he didn’t know that he don’t have the right to pry into my personal business. That’s my mission; I’m here to make it known to him.

“What is your problem?” I ask, few steps away from him. No chit-chat. I am nothing if not a straight-shooter.

“What do you mean?” He put the glass he has been drying with a white clean rag on the counter. Confusion is written all over his face.

I'm not buying his act. “Seriuosly?” I ask with my hands o my hips.

Lincoln shrugs those wide shoulders in response.

He just shrugs!

My irk-meter is blown off to the roof by the way he was acting. “What the hell is wrong with you? We had never really spoken and suddenly you thought you have the right to meddle into my life? You are Adrian’s best friend but you’re not mine! We are not even friends. So why do you care, huh? What makes you think it was okay for you to talk about my business behind my back? And to my own brother?” I yell out in exasperation.

Suddenly silence dominates the air. My heavy breath is met with no acknowledgement from him. No, I don’t take his shaking head as a proper response to my outburst. I am mad and he won’t get away with it.

I step closer until only the bar separate us now. “You really are a jerk, you know that?” I say to his face. “Remember how you manhandled me that night? And, now, this? If you still don’t get it, let me spell it to you, Mister I-dont-give-a-fu-ck-about-anyone-else’s-feelings. You have no say. You. Have. No. Say. So, stay away from my business. Stay away from my life. Stay away from me. Just like before.”

Something flashes in those brown orbs and it was gone before I can figure out what it was. It happened so fast I am not sure it was real or not. We stares at each other, doing this staring contest again. But, now I intended to win.

“Well, that’s hot,” familiar voice chimes in.

I hold my gaze until Lincoln shifts his to Tris who I reckon is standing behind me somewhere. What I cannot hold is the thriumpant smirk that lift the corner of my lip. Yes, I win! Thanks, T.

Tris perched her mid-forty-but-looks-like-thirty-something body two stools from me and beams at us. “Is this finally happening?” she asks, wiggling her brows. “Are you two finally realize you are made for each other? Because if that wasn’t a lovers’ quarrel, I don’t know what that was.”

She sighs dreamily. “You know, I always thought that you both will end up together. Look at how perfect you are! A broody mug and an angel. I couldn’t find any better match than the two of you.”

I can hear the smile on her lips. The excitement that shine from inside her is difficult to ignore. But as tough as it is, I have to crush her hope.

Lincoln beats me to it. “Shut up, T.”

That is the first word he said after my rant, and that was not the answer to my questions. That was not even for me. I don’t think I can get any angrier, but the matter of fact is, I do.

“Sorry, Boss,” T continues. My guess is she misinterpret the sparks of anger that floats around us as another kind of sparks because she doesn’t stop. “But, seriously, Sugar, you don’t have anything to worry about this beast here.” She throws her thumb at Lincoln. “He is a real teddy bear. Trust me.” She then pats my hand a couple of times. “You will be lucky to have him.”

She veers off of the track too far. I have to stop her. But, heaven forbid if I have to do anything. Again, Lincoln beats me. “Shut the fuck up, T.”

I cannot believe my ears.

I grip the edge of the counter hard enough to restrain me from exploding. He don’t get to speak whenever and whatever he want! And that was no way to speak to an older lady.

I slide my eyes to Tris to convey my apology for this bastard’s rudeness before I am back at those browns. It’s darker now. “You shut up, you impolite jerk!” I growl through clenched teeth. “And there aren’t any lovers in here, T. It will never be,” I enunciate each words in my last sentence slowly.

Another thing flashes again behind those eyes, deeper than before and making them even more darker. I blink in confusion at what I was just witnessed. It’s gone though, but the noticable aftereffect is there. Lincoln’s usual golden brown eyes is dark and gloomy. It’s like he is feeling sad.

I shake my head internally, refocusing myself on the task at hand. “Stay away from me, Linc,” I command. Then I send Tris a small smile. “See you around, T.”

With that, I leave the brightly lit room and the two persons behind. I don’t know why, but with every step I take I feel this upleasant feeling in my stomach. It’s getting worst when I reach my car.

What is happening to me?

I rethink about what happened, what I said. I rethink about what Lincoln did and said. And then my mind recalls his dark and gloomy eyes.

Why does his eyes look so sad?

I shake my head. Stop thinking about it!

****