The next second, he made her sit on a cabinet.
With both his hands on it, he stared at her with a smile.
"Lincoln, what are you doing?" Zayla glared at him.
Between him and a wall, she could hardly jump down from the cabinet. Otherwise, she would be even closer to him.
She had no choice but to move backward, pressing her back against the wall.
"You are angry," he said in a firm voice.
"Sure! You talked nonsense in front of Mrs. Vaughan and said that I was your girlfriend. Can't I be angry?"
"Didn't you lie to her? You told her that you were just eighteen, didn't you?" Lincoln laughed.
Zayla was 22 years old.
With her hair in a ponytail, she was dressed in a white T-shirt and a pair of light-colored tight jeans. Since she didn't wear any makeup, one could see her delicate and lovely face clearly. It was not an exaggeration to say that she was only 16 years old.