Hey! I never said anyone had to pick sides this time. We didn’t break up. I just needed to figure out my life.
Finn
Good. I got us BFF bracelets to wear to my premiere.
Cage
I just vomited in my mouth.
Finn
Because you were looking at Mr. Wigglestein’s oversized testicles?
Cage
No. Because you are a suck-up.
My Uber is here. I’ll text you jackasses later.
Cage
Make things right. We need him to put a ring on it and seal the deal.
Georgia
Go get your man, Brinks!
I chuckled and tucked my phone into my purse before sliding into the Uber. The drive to the swanky hotel was quick, and I knew Lincoln would be out of practice by now, and I wanted to surprise him.
Otherwise, I’d be sitting out in the hallway, waiting for him until he returned.
“Thank you,” I said to the driver as I hopped out of the car after he pulled beside the curb. Butterflies fluttered in my belly.
I’d barely slept, barely eaten, and barely functioned during our time apart. I’d thought about what I wanted in life, and it always came back to him.
After I’d allowed myself some time to sulk about my dream job being an enormous joke, everything became clear.
I’m my own person. I didn’t need to fear being overshadowed by my boyfriend’s fame, because only I could allow that to happen.
And I wasn’t that girl.
Not now. Not ever.
I was confident in who I was, and I wouldn’t allow my insecurities to get in the way of my happiness.
And he’d given me the time that I needed.
But now that I was here, I had no patience. I wanted to be with him right now.
I hurried to the front desk, admiring how nice the place was. There were crystal chandeliers hanging above. Black velvet couches with white floral arrangements were placed around the impressive lobby.
My hotel, where I’d left all my stuff this morning, was a few blocks away and not nearly as decadent as this place.
“Hello,” a woman greeted me. Her black hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and her red lips were perfectly lined.
“Hi. I’m Mrs. Jack Sparrow, and I’m here to check in. My husband arrived a few days ago,” I said, remembering that he’d booked the room under Mr. and Mrs. Jack Sparrow.
She raised a brow. “Do you have an ID?”
I went to pull out my driver’s license and realized it wouldn’t have the correct name on it. “I actually don’t have it with me.”
“Let me call up to the room,” she said.
“No!” I yelled, not meaning to say it quite as loud as it came out. The woman startled.
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry. I’m surprising my husband.”
“Okay.” She raised a brow. “Do you have a credit card or any sort of identification with your name on it, Mrs. Jack Sparrow?”
The way she said my name sounded very snarky, and I did not appreciate it.
“Let me ask you something,” I said, pausing to read her name tag. And wouldn’t you know, it was the name that Lou had called me one too many times. “Bailey.”
“Yes, Mrs. Sparrow?”
“Did you ask Mr. Jack Sparrow for his identification?”
“Well, I wasn’t working when he checked in. But I’m sure someone did. It’s hotel policy.”
“I actually doubt that. And let me tell you what my problem is with this situation,” I said, flailing my hands around. “Haven’t women been held to a different set of rules than men for long enough? Come on. Let’s join forces and agree to say: No more! Power of the woman, Bailey!” I shouted.
“Ma’am, I wouldn’t care if you were a man, a woman, or a turtle. If you want to check in to this hotel, you need to have identification.”
“Fine. Call the room. But just be aware that you have failed not only me but all women far and wide.” I raised a brow as I sulked at the counter.
“I can live with that.”
Damn. This was not going as planned.
But I didn’t even care.
I just wanted to see him.
And I didn’t want to wait another minute.
thirty-two
Lincoln
I strolled into the hotel after going to grab a late lunch down the street with the guys, and the finest ass I’d ever laid eyes on beckoned me from the front desk.
A pull so strong that my head whipped in her direction.
I’d know that perfect peach-shaped backside anywhere.
I’d also recognize that voice, which was currently expressing her displeasure with the woman standing in front of her. She was yelling about women being held to different standards and going on and on about the injustice in the world.
The corners of my lips turned up.
“Mr. Jack Sparrow is going to be furious that you wouldn’t give me a room key,” Brinkley hissed.
“She’s correct about that. Mrs. Jack Sparrow is listed on my room reservation.” I stepped up behind Brinkley and wrapped my arms around her. My chin rested on her shoulder as I breathed her in.
Lavender and honey.
I nipped at her earlobe.
“I’m so sorry about that, Mr. Sparrow. I’ll give her a key now.”
“Hey. Aren’t you going to ask for his identification?” Brinkley asked as she turned around to face me, wrapping her arms around my neck with a wicked grin on her face.
“I, um, oh my gosh. You are…” the front desk lady sputtered as recognition set in, and she whispered. “Lincoln Hendrix.”
I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my wallet, handing her my fake ID. “Captain Jack Sparrow, ma’am.”
Brinkley gaped, and I handed her the other ID. She looked down at it.
“Sweetheart Sparrow?” she said over a fit of laughter.
“You left before I was able to give it to you.” I winked as the woman behind the front desk handed me back my ID, along with the room key for Brinkley.
“I’m sorry about all that,” she said, winking at my girl. “Power of the woman, Mrs. Sparrow.”
“That’s Sweetheart to you, Bailey.” Brinkley chuckled, and I intertwined my fingers with hers and led her down a hallway a few feet away.
I pressed her up against the wall. “I missed you, Mrs. Sparrow.”
“I missed you, too.”
My hand found the side of her neck, my thumb tracing along her jaw. “You here to stay this time?”
“I am.” A tear ran down her cheek. “I’m sorry for leaving. I just needed some time to figure everything out. I was embarrassed and humiliated by what you saw that day. But I shouldn’t have run.”
“Nothing to be embarrassed about, baby. I love everything about you, aside from your stubborn ass.”
“This ass?” she asked, pointing toward her backside.
“That’s the one.”
She tugged me down, and my mouth covered hers. Her lips parted in invitation, and my tongue slipped in.
Goddamn, I missed everything about her.
Our breaths were coming hard and fast, and I pulled back, my forehead resting against hers.
“Come on. I want you to tell me everything. Let’s go upstairs.”
Easier said than done. We were alone in the elevator, and my mouth was on hers once again. Once I got her into the room, I pulled her onto my lap as I sat down on the couch.