Page 67 of Cross the Line
But a loud knock on the door has me rearing back. Dev doesn’t let me go far, though. He reacts quicker than I can, looping an arm around my waist, keeping me to him. Like he’s not concerned that the person on the other side of the door could burst in and catch us like this.
Thankfully, he’s right. Only a voice floats through, telling Dev that he’s needed for interviews.
Over my head, he responds, and then he dips his chin again to look at me. ‘They love to interrupt us, don’t they?’
Glancing away, I force a chuckle at his joking comment. I don’t find the idea of getting caught very funny.
Dev cups my jaw, prompting me to look at him again. ‘Hey,’ he says softly, the humour gone. ‘We’ll talk more about this later, all right?’ He waits until I nod slightly before continuing. ‘I have to get back to the team, but this isn’t me walking away from you. Clearly, there’s something between us. And we have to figure out where it goes from here.’
I nod, swallowing hard. ‘We do.’
‘We will.’ His lips find mine for a parting kiss that leaves me breathless. ‘Go back to the hotel,’ he murmurs, drawing back just far enough to say the words. ‘Get changed. We’re going out tonight.’
——
‘I saw the race!’ Chantal screams when she picks up my call. ‘I can’t believe your boy won!’
I breathe out a laugh, imagining her jumping up and down in our apartment while I’m getting ready alone in another nondescript hotel room. I miss her even more now that I have something major to tell her.
‘Yeah, it was a big surprise,’ I say, cradling the phone between my ear and my shoulder as I paw through my suitcase, searching for an outfit to wear tonight. ‘Hey, are you . . . Are you busy right now? I can call back later.’
‘Pfft, as if I’ve got anything better to do.’ Something that sounds like a chip bag crinkles in the background. She must be settling in to get caught up onLove Island. Normally, I’d be right there with her. ‘Hit me. What’s up?’
I’ve been dying to talk to her about what happened with Dev since the second he stepped out the door of his driver room, leaving me to press my fingers to my swollen lips and replay the memory. It was . . . amazing. Fantastic. I felt absolutely schoolgirl giddy, but what comes next makes me anxious. Undoubtedly, I need a second opinion. I’ll probably force Grace to go through it all with me too once she answers my texts.
‘I . . .’ How the hell do I even start this conversation? ‘Dev, he . . .’ I take a shuddering breath. Fuck it, I just need to get it out there. ‘Dev and I kissed today,’ I blurt.
Her gasp is followed by shocked silence that lasts so long I worry the call got disconnected. But nope, she’s still on the line when I pull the phone back to check. And I’m glad I do, because her shriek a second later might have burst my eardrum if I hadn’t.
‘Iknewit would happen!’
I wait another beat before putting her on speakerphone, setting the device next to my suitcase and sitting cross-legged in front of it. ‘Yeah, you and Grace called it,’ I mumble, still in disbelief that it happened. ‘I probably should have listened to you guys in the first place.’
It might have saved me some restless nights and days of pining if I hadn’t insisted that Dev and I keep things strictly friendly. But honestly, I don’t regret the path we’ve taken, because it means we’ve both had time to think about it. To let our feelings grow without the pressure of knowing that this was on the horizon. I like how we got here. I like how we’ve found our way to each other. It feels right, even if we have a lot of details to work through.
‘I’ll forgive you for this misstep,’ Chantal teases. ‘So, are you done acting like you two aren’t in love with each other?’
My face flames, and I freeze with my hand on a pile of dresses. ‘I – I wouldn’t gothatfar,’ I stammer. ‘But . . . I don’t think we’re just friends any more.’
Her voice is softer when she speaks again. ‘You haven’t been for a while, babe.’
She’s not wrong. We’ve been dancing around our feelings for ages now. But am I ready to give in to the pull, the magnetism, that exists between us?
‘I don’t even know what Iwantfrom him,’ I confess to her. ‘A one-time hookup to get this out of our systems? A friends-with-benefits situation? An actual relationship?’
Saying the options out loud makes everything feel a little too real. As anxiety rises in my chest, I barrel on. ‘Maybe a hookup is all this can be. Once my contract is finished, he’ll still be travelling around the world while I’m back in New York, and there’s a chance I won’t see him again for months. How’s a relationship supposed to work like that?’
‘There are plenty of drivers who have partners and families,’ Chantal points out. ‘They seem to be doing just fine. Why would you and Dev be any different?’
I suddenly can’t seem to think of any of those reasons, but I’m sure there are thousands just waiting to spring up and tear us down. Do I want to risk that? Can I take the leap of faith that would be necessary to even pursue something with him?
‘No matter what we do, it won’t be easy,’ I finally say. That’s the only conclusion I can come to right now. Because the idea of being without him feels just as hard.
‘Easy is overrated,’ she counters. ‘What matters is making yourselves happy.’
And therein lies the problem – I don’t know how to do that.
There’s one thing I do know, though. ‘I’m scared, Chantal,’ I whisper.
