Luke laughed. “You have a hero complex.”
She shrugged. “So what?”
Shea held up her hands. “All I care about right now is that Tiffany is stuck on a toilet somewhere.”
As I laughed, I looked around at my friends. I’d totally grown attached to this crew and to my new life. Worry for Mikey and my mom, and the fact that this devil mark was permanent nagged at my insides, but overall, I was counting my blessings.
After all the fuss we’d made, Tiffany never ratted us out. It might have helped that Shea slid a note under her door that read, ‘snitches get stiches’ in red paint that looked like blood, but the fact that she didn’t tell on us actually scared me a little. Was she plotting revenge? Either way, we’d made it through the week, and were now minutes from leaving on our first weekend out in the war zone as Fallen Army reserve soldiers.
“Got you a present,” Lincoln told me as we stepped out of his trailer. He had somehow snuck a box into his hands that I hadn’t seen before.
“A prezzie? For me?” I spun, and ripped the shoe box out of his hands. It wasn’t wrapped, which was so Lincoln. But he’d put my name on the top in pen with a small heart to dot the i. Again, so Lincoln. He was super romantic without trying too hard.
We hadn’t really gotten each other presents before. For my last birthday, he’d bought Shea and me dinner. Then for Christmas, he got me a glitter unicorn phone case, and drew black angel wings onto the horse with a Sharpie. I’d gotten him guitar picks.
“Eager much?” he laughed, as I ripped the lid off without fanfare.
When my eyes fell on the steel cuffs, I gasped. “Are these…？”
“Custom battle cuffs. Made with the same stuff as our shield armor, so you can stop a sword with them if you need to,” he confirmed.
My heart thumped wildly in my chest as I gazed at the man before me. Lincoln was my family. He’d lost his family, and moved out into this lonely trailer, until I shoved my way into his life, and now here we were. Whether he liked it or not, he was stuck with me.
“I’m going to marry you one day,” I said suddenly, then winked to make it more lighthearted than I truly meant it. But seriously, I needed to lock this dude down before he realized he could probably do better.
“Hey, I’m supposed to be saying those things,” he answered with a grin.
I scoffed. “Don’t be sexist.”
He rolled his eyes. “Woman, try them on. Do you have any idea how hard it is to measure your arms while you’re sleeping? You shove them between your legs!”
My laughter rang out, filling the air around us as I popped on my tiptoes to plant a kiss on his lips.
My mom told me once that your first love was dangerous. First love could make you, but also destroy you. If Lincoln was to be my destroyer, I was okay with that—it was worth the making of me.
I finally reached in and pulled the cuffs out, letting the box fall to my feet. Tilting my arm to the side, I slipped the cuff over it and then straightened it so it fit neatly in place.
“Like a glove,” I told him.
They were exquisite. The front had an engraved pair of angel wings on each cuff, with my name underneath. They shined in the sunlight, showcasing their fresh silver polish.
“They should save your ass on Fight Night.” He ran a hand through his hair, smoothed his shirt, and tucked it into his pants. We’d totally just had a quickie in his trailer, so he was trying to tuck in his uniform, hiding the evidence.
I smoothed my hair as well. “So, third year I get to move into the Fallen Army barracks, and I can keep those living quarters even after graduation?” I asked. I’d read the salary package with an eagle eye. Mostly because it was the best job I’d ever had, and I was going to need to take care of my mom and Mikey.
He ran a hand down the side of his trailer, looking at it fondly. “Yeah. Some students like to stay in the dorms if they have younger siblings there, like Angela and Luke, or you and your brother. I used to share an apartment in the barracks with Noah, but…”
I knew this shit was painful for him to talk about, but I wanted to know everything about him. Like why he was the only guy who lived on campus in a trailer.
“After my family died, I didn’t want to step foot in our family home. It was like a memory crypt. But this was our camping trailer. Just enough good memories that it wasn’t overwhelming.”
Oh God, I felt bad for asking.
I placed my hand over his. “It’s a pretty sweet little pad,” I told him.