I gave a solitary nod.

"Thank God."

And that was it.

He didn't pester me about the accident or ask for details about what had occurred in the store, which bothered me, because for the first time since everything had happened, I wanted to volunteer that information. I wanted him to know.

Maybe because he'd defended me, a stranger.

Or maybe it was because he'd been blunt, almost hurtfully so, when up until now everyone had used kid gloves with me.

Maybe the hard and ugly love was what I needed.

I'd always been a hugger.

Now, I had to wonder if the accident had changed me from a hugger — to a fighter.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Lincoln

LINC: TELL ME A JOKE.

Dani: Wilbur must really suck at keeping you entertained.

Linc: You're telling me…

Dani: Am I going to have to start looking up jokes in order to entertain you at night? Also, you have to be up in four hours — correction WE have to be up in four hours. GO TO SLEEP!

Linc: Did you just all caps me?

Dani: My finger slipped?

Linc: Finger slipped my ass. I think you just yelled at your elder.

Dani: Oh please. I'm almost eighteen. You're barely twenty-two.

Linc: Been visiting my IMDb page, huh?

Dani: Wouldn't your ego like to know?

Linc: Yes. It needs constant stroking. Quick, give me a compliment!

Dani: You have a killer tattoo.

Linc: Now that's just cruel, I'll have you know me and Bo go way back, even if he does look like shit.

Dani: You named your tattoo?

Linc: Is that not a thing? Do people not do that?

Dani: Maybe people in rooms with padded walls…

Linc: You say padded walls. I say fluffy.

Dani: Still an asylum.

A yellow smiley winked onto my screen, eyes spinning and tongue lolling.

Linc: Bo's offended.

Dani: Do you name everything?

Linc: Would it weird you out if I named my waffle maker Chuck?

Dani: Yes.

Linc: Then no, I don't name everything… *whispers* sorry Chuck.

Dani: GO TO SLEEP!

I grinned hard at my phone. I was too nervous to sleep, not that I'd admit that to her. It helped that the next few emojis she sent were of snakes, spiders, and then a bomb going off killing them all. Wasn't sure how that was supposed to put me to sleep, but it did make me laugh.

Linc: One joke, or maybe even a bedtime story.

I leaned back against my pillows, waiting for her response.

Dani: There once was a spoiled actor named Linc. He choked on Chuck while petting Wilbur, and Bo cried. The end.

Linc: You forgot about Penny.

Dani: Who's Penny?

Linc: Wouldn't you like to know.

Dani: LINCOLN GREENE — sleep. You need it. I need it. The world needs us to have it, otherwise I'm going to be really cranky tomorrow.

Linc: When was the last time you yelled?

Dani: That's a weird question.

Linc: Sorry, too personal?

Maybe I'd overstepped my boundaries. I hoped not because I really wanted to know the last time she'd raised her voice.

Dani: Probably after the accident when I was in a wheelchair and stupid Demetri thought it would be funny to push me around downtown Seaside at epic speeds. I yelled until I was hoarse. It was a fun day.

Linc: I'm assuming you were in the wheelchair because something was broken, and he had the audacity to push you into objects?

Dani: That's Demetri for you. But it did cheer me up. Until then, everyone had been treating me like I was so breakable, so it was nice to have normal. He gave me that.

Linc: I'm beginning to think it's not just the Sour Patch Kids.

Dani: It's not.

Linc: I feel jealous of his ability to be your friend when I seem to offend you every time I open my mouth.

Dani: You're a better texter.

Linc: Thanks, I think.

Dani: Go to bed.

Linc: Fine. And Dani?

Dani:?

Linc: You aren't breakable.

Dani: Thanks.

CHAPTER NINE

Lincoln

DANI: REMIND ME AGAIN WHY I took this job.

Linc: You didn't have a choice. Almost here?

Dani: Yeah, I'm at Starbucks, will be over in a few.

The text ended with a few stunned looking smiley faces, a yawn¸ and then the picture of the ridiculously long Starbucks line.

Linc: Just let yourself in.

My flip flops made a slapping noise against the hardwood floor as I paced back and forth, back and forth in my living room. Nervous energy swirled around me as I cracked first my knuckles and then my neck.

The sound relaxed me more than the feeling.

I cracked my left hand again then my right.

Blowing air out of my cheeks, I sat on my couch and started my deep breathing. In for eight seconds, out for eight seconds, eight times.

I'd tried to stop with my first-day ritual, but the one and only time I hadn't done the whole cracking, breathing, relaxing thing, one of the lights had fallen on me during filming.

During a sex scene.

I'd been naked.

So had she.

Let's just say we both received some fun bruises in places no person should ever be bruised.

Which brought me back to the deep breathing.

I blew out my last breath, eyes closed, envisioning my first few lines. I mouthed the words then, eyes still closed, played with a few voices.

"It's so much easier…" My voice rumbled low in my throat. "… fighting for the bad… giving in to temptation, don't you think?"

No, that wasn't right. My voice wasn't raw enough; it felt forced. I tried again, this time clearing my throat.