Chapter Seventy-Three
Michaela
As Lincoln swung his door open, it occurred to me this was the first time I was here and not for s*x. I hadn’t been back to his apartment since December.
A large black suitcase sat by the door. “When do you leave on tour?”
“The next concert is Wednesday. Sit at the table. Warming this will only take a few.”
He had a small dining table in the corner, next to his kitchen with newer cabinets than my apartment had. He removed a baking dish from the fridge, then scooped portions into bowls and popped them in the microwave.
“Let me freshen up. Feel free to pour yourself a drink.”
I was left alone with the timer counting down from five minutes. A photo on the shelves in the living room caught my eye and I crossed the floor to pick up the frame.
It was me at
