Page 72 of Cross the Line
‘You feel so good,’ I whisper. I’ve finally found the strength to break away from her, but my mouth still hovers over hers. ‘Being so close to you for all these weeks but not being able to touch you the way I wanted? I’ve been losing my mind. I can’t go back to the way things were.’
Her lips are swollen, her curls swept over one shoulder, her eyes a little hazy but locked on mine. ‘I don’t think I can either.’ The confession is breathy and soft, but the words are clear. She means it.
‘But I don’t want to jeopardize your career or your reputation.’ I force myself to go on, pulling away a little more at the same time. I peer down the hallway in either direction, but the people who were lingering near the bathroom are gone. ‘I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with.’
She nods, her eyes clearing, and there’s a glimmer of apprehension in them along with the clarity.
‘We shouldn’t rush into anything,’ she agrees, trailing her fingers down my neck to rest on my shoulders. ‘Even if it’s just physical.’
There’s no rushing to be done. I’ve been grappling with my feelings for her for nearly a year now, and in the time we’ve spent together, she’s become my rock. But Willow has always been in my corner. This isn’t new. It’s just constant now, and I’m afraid of ever being without her.
That right there tells me this is more than just physical. That I’m attracted to so much more than just her wide eyes and bright smile and the curves I want to trace every inch of.
I’m done fighting the pull I feel to her. Will there be consequences? There sure as shit will be.
But I’m willing to handle them.
‘I don’t want it to be just physical,’ I tell her. There’s no point in lying or keeping the truth from her. ‘I want all of you, Willow. I have for a long time. And I don’t think I can settle for anything less than that.’
The pulse point at her throat beats wildly as she studies my face, probably looking for any trace of deception. When she doesn’t find it, her gaze locks on mine again, full of tentative acceptance. If she can’t fathom that I want her – body, mind and soul – then I’ll have to try harder to prove it.
But it’s up to her to tell me what she wants. She knows where I stand.
‘Think about what you want,’ I urge. I cup her face with both hands, making sure she can’t look away. Making sure she doesn’t miss the weight of my words. ‘Take all the time you need. Don’t rush it. And don’t force it.’ I let my thumbs skim across her cheekbones, praying this won’t be the last time I get to touch her like this. ‘But just know that I’ll be here waiting, because I know exactly what I want – and it’s you.’
CHAPTER 23
Willow
My body aches like I’ve been hit by a truck when I roll out of bed the next morning.
I barely drank last night, so I can’t blame this on a hangover, but I overdid it in other ways. I stood for too long, danced too hard and wore impractical shoes without thinking of the consequences. Now I’m paying the price.
The torn labrum in my left hip – the one the doctors have repaired three times already and refuse to fix again – catches within the joint as I take a tentative step toward the bathroom, and it threatens to give out on me. The pain is sharp and intense but blessedly fleeting, though when I try again, I know it will do the same thing.
I need to hydrate, pop an anti-inflammatory and do some gentle stretching ASAP. I’ve been slacking on taking care of my body, and it’s come to bite me in the ass.
Yet, if this is the consequence for last night, I’ll take it without complaint.
I fight back a smile when the memory of kissing Dev in that dim hallway surfaces. Sure, it wasn’t the most romantic setting, and, yeah, it was once again a heat-of-the-moment thing. Butgod. If my hip didn’t hurt so badly, I’d be kicking my feet like a giddy kid.
I promised Dev that I wouldn’t rush into a decision about where we go from here, but if he knocked on my door right now, I’d probably throw myself at him. Andthatmeans I need to avoid him until I’ve had the chance to weigh the pros and cons and come to a conclusion about what I want. What Ireallywant – and what to make of the consequences that could come with it.
I text Grace and Chantal as I lie on my yoga mat, grimacing through the discomfort of the stretches and welcoming the distraction of my friends’ nearly incoherent messages as I update them on the Dev situation. Twenty minutes later, my body doesn’t feel much better, but my mind’s a little clearer. Both my best friends wholeheartedly encouraged me to follow my heart. Knowing I have their support makes this easier, although I’ve never been worried about them and their opinions.
But on my way down to breakfast, I run straight into one of my problems. Literally.
Mark steadies me, his strong hands gripping my shoulders. The collision is my fault – I was so distracted by forming my mental list of pros and cons that I didn’t see him stepping out of his room until it was too late – but maybe this is fate intervening, forcing me to face my anxiety head-on.
‘Are you okay?’ he asks, his brow furrowed in genuine concern. Given that he’s a foot and a half taller than me, it’s warranted. He could have easily wiped me off the face of the earth.
‘I’m fine,’ I say, though stopping so quickly has made my pain flare up again.
‘You don’t look fine.’
Trust Mark to be blunt. As I gingerly move away from him, I consider lying again, but today’s pain is so acute, there’s no way it isn’t written all over my face. ‘My hip is giving me a little trouble,’ I explain. ‘No big deal, though. I promise.’
He frowns and takes a few steps back, putting at least ten feet between us. Then he lifts his hand and motions me forward. ‘Walk toward me. Let me see how it’s affecting your gait.’
