“I definitely don’t.”
“Fine. Continue.”
“The pier wasright there.” The sensation threatened him even now, the pull of the waves, the water soaking into his nose and ears. The roar rushing in his head. “I floundered until this old man in a fishing hat threw me a rope off the dock.”
Zoey’s eyes widened. “Who was it?”
“Don’t know.” Linc shrugged. “I’d never seen him before. Haven’t ever seen him since.”
She nodded slowly. “Wow.”
“So, yeah. It feels like that.” Like he needed rescue. He rocked in double time, fighting to fill his lungs even though he was no longer under the bay. “I never had a real dad. How the heck am I going to be one?”
“I know your parents died.” Her eyes softened. “But your uncle was there for you, right? He seemed like a good man, the one time I met him.”
“He’s not my uncle. Uncle Lyle and Aunt Carrie were my foster parents.”
Zoey gaped. “Linc.”
Okay, so maybe he didn’t tell her everything. “It is what it is.”
Her mouth had yet to shut. “I had no idea you were a foster kid.”
“Mission accomplished.”
She frowned. “Why? It’s not something to be ashamed of.”
“I’m not ashamed. It just leads to questions I didn’t—don’t—want to answer.” Like what had happened in the courtroom that day when he was eight. A week before, he’d nearly drowned in the bay.
Some days he sort of wondered if that old man should have let him.
Zoey still looked confused. “I thought your parents died when you were young.”
“Mom did.” Eyes stinging, Linc looked down at the boards in the deck floor. He should sand them again, paint a fresh coat of varnish. Keep them looking nice despite the wear and tear of age.
She hesitated. “And your dad?”
His throat tightened. “Let’s just say I’m dead to him.”
Zoey’s hand was on his wrist, then, and he stared down at her white skin resting on his tanned forearm. “It’s his loss, Linc.”
The words slid like a balm over his heart, and for a moment, he relaxed into the warmth of them. The warmth ofher. He stopped rocking, looked up to meet her steady blue gaze. Good ol’ Zoey. Someone who saw, who cared.
Who chose to stick around despite his rough edges and sharp corners.
But no one stuck around forever, did they? He’d taken a chance with Kirsten, put down his guard long enough to realize it had protected him for a reason. It was much better for people to think of him as tough guy. As muscular Linc with the man bun and tattoos. Made them keep their distance, which he preferred.
Except with Zoey. She’d somehow decided years ago to vault over all his boundaries and nestle in like a burr on his sock. As a friend, that was fine. Nice, even, sometimes. But getting too open with her, letting down his guard…he couldn’t risk losing what they had in their friendship. Couldn’t risk something leading to more and blowing up in his face.
She was more valuable than that.
He stiffened, withdrew his arm, ignoring the tingles racing down his skin. “I’ve got to figure out what to do about Amelia. I mean, she’ll have to start school and stuff soon, right?”
Zoey’s hand fell to her lap, and she blinked rapidly, as if trying to catch up. “Right.”
“I don’t know how to enroll a kid in school.” That task seemed downright impossible. “What grade is she even in?”
“She’ll know. The school will know too.”
