Sebastian drew himself up indignantly. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Of course not,” Lincoln said.
Sebastian couldn’t keep still. He began gathering his dirty clothes and toiletries in jerky movements and cramming them into his duffel bag. “None of these women are saying I did anything wrong. Are they?”
“They are not,” Lincoln said.
“There’s nothing wrong with hookups.” Sebastian yanked his bag’s zipper.
“Not a thing in the world,” said Lincoln. “But, just the same…” Lincoln ran his hands over his head. “It does call to mind West Elm Caleb.”
Sebastian exhaled noisily. Ever since he’d read the post, he’d felt the specter of West End Caleb, a serial dater who’d been TikTok-infamous a few years back, floating in the hotel room’s air, waiting to be invoked.
“West End Caleb told girls he was in love with them,” Sebastian said, his voice clipped. “He told them all that they were beautiful and special and perfect. He sent them playlists. Then he never called them again. That’s why he was a bad guy. I never did any of that! Nobody’s saying I’ve done anything wrong!”
“No-o-o,” Lincoln said, stretching out the word in a manner suggesting that he really meant “yes.”
“Like, on Tinder. I only matched with girls in the ‘free tonight’ category.”
“？‘Free tonight?’ That’s a thing?”
Sebastian nodded. Lincoln looked slightly horrified, before saying, “I guess it’s better than ‘booty call.’ Or ‘DTF.’ Or ‘U up?’？” He shook his head, then looked down as his phone chimed.
“What?” Sebastian demanded as Lincoln started laughing.
“Okay. I’m sorry. It’s—well. This one girl compared your bedroom to a clown car.”
Sebastian growled.
“It was funny!” Lincoln said.
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Sebastian said again.
“Yes. I agree. I agree completely. I’m on your side. Come on.” Lincoln pulled up the blankets and smoothed the pillowcases until his bed looked just as pristine as it had when they’d walked into the room.
“You know there are people who do that,” Sebastian said.
Lincoln just grabbed his bike from where it was leaning against the wall. “This will blow over.” He paused as Sebastian wheeled his own bike toward the door. “Except, here’s an idea.”
“What’s that?”
“Abby,” said Lincoln.
Sebastian tensed. Did Lincoln know he’d slept with Abby, too? And did Abby know about the video?
This was bad. Very bad. “What about Abby?”
“How about, just as a thought exercise, instead of trying to hook up with her, you try to be her friend?”
Sebastian stared at Lincoln. Lincoln met Sebastian’s gaze with his eyes wide open.
“I wasn’t trying to hook up with her,” Sebastian finally said, praying that Lincoln didn’t know he already had.
“I’m just saying, you have an M.O.,” said Lincoln. “And not a lot of female friends.”
“Lana is my friend,” Sebastian protested.
“Lana is my wife,” Lincoln said. “And, thus, the only woman who’s completely and indubitably off-limits to you.” He looked sternly at Sebastian. “It’s just an idea. But maybe, just this once, you try to do things differently.”
Sebastian nodded. He wasn’t holding crossed fingers behind his back, but he also wasn’t verbally agreeing to anything… which, he thought, would give him plausible deniability in case anything did end up happening with Abby. Although that wasn’t looking likely, he thought, glumly wheeling his bike out into the parking lot, preparing to start the day’s ride.
Abby
Lizzie had done a seven-day trip from Buffalo to Albany, along the length of the Erie Canal, and had warned Abby about the scenery—or, more accurately, the lack of scenery—that upstate New York would feature. “It’s pretty, but it’s not superinteresting,” Lizzie had said. Most days, they’d be covering similar terrain—a relatively flat path, sometimes paved, sometimes lined with dirt and crushed cinders, with a body of water—the Hudson River or the Erie Canal—off to one side, winding through forests, meadows, historic sites, and the scrubby backyards of small towns. Sometimes, they’d see the remnants of the railroad lines that had run before the trails had been converted—rusting trestles and decaying wooden ties. They’d ride through cemeteries, and pass monuments, old battlegrounds, reservoirs, and public parks. Pretty, Abby thought, as she led the group back onto the trail, but not very exciting.