Page 28 of Cross the Line
‘Okay,that’sa reach.’ She snickers as the voice coming from the GPS tells me to make a left at the busy intersection ahead. ‘If I’m your good-luck charm, what will you do when I’m gone?’
Focused on merging into the left-turn lane and driving defensively so that one of these dumbasses doesn’t crash into me – I’ve had enough of that lately – I ask, ‘Who says I’ll ever let you go?’ The words snap off my tongue before I consider all the ways they could be taken.
Willow scoffs, thankfully interpreting my question as a joke, her laugh ricocheting through the car. ‘What, are you going to make me your hostage?’
I pitch my voice low and sinister, playing along, even though for once I’m not sure whether I was kidding. ‘Tell your family to pay a ransom of one million dollars, and I’ll consider letting you leave.’
She’s grinning when I dare to look over, her dimples deep and her eyes nearly closed. ‘That’s not going to help your image. Keeping a poor, innocent girl captive? Not a good look.’
I hit the gas and make the left just as the stop light above us turns yellow. ‘I don’t think you’re that innocent.’
Instantly, the air shifts. Fuck, I should have kept my thoughts to myself. Mom calls my inability to do so a curse, and right now, I’m inclined to believe her.
Willow draws in a breath. ‘Okay, I . . . I think we need to address the elephant in the room.’
‘I told you to never bring up the size of my nose,’ I whine, going for distraction so we can avoid the conversation she’s intent on having. I can’t do this right now. Or ever. I’m just going to get myself into more trouble. ‘YouknowI’m self-conscious, Willow.’
That shocks a snort of air out of her, and I grin in victory, even though she’s quick to quiet herself.
‘Dev, I’m serious,’ she says, though her grin and the laughter in her tone say otherwise. ‘And I thought you knew better than to buy into Eurocentric beauty standards. Shame on you.’
That comment has me laughing before I can think better of it, still so surprised when she banters with me. She was like this when we were kids, keeping up with Oakley and me like it was natural. But the older she got, the more it faded. Like a shell was closing around her instead of opening up. She got . . . quiet. Reserved. Like her lightness had been stripped away. By the time I left to race in Europe full time at eighteen, she and I barely spoke any more.
And it went on that way for years. It wasn’t until after the Jeremy fiasco that I made a concerted effort to reach out, to make sure the glowing girl I’d grown up with hadn’t let that light be fully extinguished. It started as a favour to Oakley, checking in on her and reporting back. But eventually, it developed into a need to know more for my own sake.
It was casual, though. We didn’t have deep conversations or exchange more than a few texts every couple of weeks. But she was opening up again, even if it was only an inch at a time.
It was why I was so surprised when she confessed that she’d had a crush on me. It was bold. Not something the closed-off Willow would have done, with the aid of alcohol or not. It was a glimpse of the old Willow. The fearless girl I’d known for so long. The one who could give as good as she got.
The one who has me feeling things I shouldn’t.
‘Okay,’ I force out. ‘Let’s talk about it.’
We finally get caught at a red light, so I take the opportunity to look at her full-on. If this is what she wants, then I’ll let her guide the conversation. I’m not about to talk myself into a hole that I can’t dig myself out of. I’m already on the edge of one anyway.
She scrapes her teeth across her bottom lip and watches the traffic through the windshield. ‘What happened over Oakley’s birthday weekend last year . . .’ she says, fingers twisting in her lap. ‘I don’t – I don’t regret it, okay? I won’t sit here and try to tell you I was lying about my feelings or that I hated what happened. But I think we both know it was a mistake.’
Keeping my mouth shut, I nod. She’s right. Itwasa mistake. And it was a mistake to let the whole thing slide, as she requested I do that night, even though I didn’t want to. I still don’t want to, but it’s not my call to make.
‘It feels like it’s hanging over our heads,’ she goes on, the words rushed. Her attention is still trained out the window as a flush touches the tops of her cheekbones. ‘I just want to move on and be friends – no weirdness, no flirting. We can do that, right? Put everything in the past and keep this cool?’
If it’s what she wants, I’ll do my best to make it happen, no matter how difficult it’ll be. ‘We can,’ I answer, easing down on the accelerator when the light turns green. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel uncomfortable.’
‘You haven’t,’ she blurts, finally turning to me. She has one leg tucked up under her, and her sundress is inching higher.
It’s taking every ounce of willpower I have to rip my gaze away from her warm brown skin and keep it on the road.
‘We’re good, I swear,’ she continues. ‘And I’m glad to be working together.’
I cling to the chance to change the subject before I yank the car over to the shoulder and push my hands under her skirt. ‘That’s why I dragged you out here with me for the week. I wanted to get started on this as soon as possible.’
Back on familiar ground, she brightens. ‘Then let’s do it. I’ve been thinking about how to frame your return to the world of social media. You need a fresh start. Slate brushed clean, the past washed away, you know?’ She glances out the window at the passing palm trees before looking back at me. ‘You feel like surfing today?’
I shoot her an amused look. ‘Is that actually a question?’ I will never pass up an opportunity to be in the water. My love of surfing is second only to racing.
‘Okay, good, because I have an idea,’ she pushes on, clearly ready to convince me even if I wasn’t on board. ‘For our first post, I want to get some pictures of you coming out of the water. ThinkThe Birth of Venus. But, like,Dev Reborn. A brand-new you.’
‘You saying you want me naked, Willow?’ I tease as I turn into our parents’ neighbourhood. ‘All you had to do was ask.’
