The Line Between

by Tamsyn Bester

  On the outside Dane’s expression was stoic, and I knew he wanted the world outside to think my words had no effect at all. But they couldn’t see his eyes – the way they billowed with every emotion he was feeling, ranging from his own anger to a heat so scorching it warmed my skin.

  “You’re playing a dangerous game,” he said. The timbre of his voice was low, and grave. Threatening.

  “No,” I replied. “That’s what you don’t understand. This isn’t a game. Not anymore. I’m done.”

  I lifted what was left of the rose stems, and Reid’s hand flew out. He gripped my forearm, and pried them from my aching hand before I could do anymore damage.

  “I think it’s time you left,” said Reid. “You’ve made your point.”

  I couldn’t see his face, but I could tell he wasn’t impressed with my outburst. That was too bad, because I felt like it was long overdue. I should have done it years ago, but I was too afraid, and to be honest, a little too blinded by the way my body seemed to respond when Dane was close by.

  “Good,” I replied.

  Dane’s jaw ticked, and he looked ready to retaliate. I wasn’t going to give him the chance, so I turned on my heel, aware that all eyes were on us, and walked out of the cafeteria with faux confidence. It wasn’t until I was outside that I took my first real breath of air. Even through the glass windows I could feel Dane’s eyes on my back.

  Walking away left an odd feeling in my gut. Part of me felt liberated, and I told myself I should have done it a long time ago. But the other part of me was afraid that it was really over. What I couldn’t understand was why the second part bothered me more than the first.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Dane

  MY EYES ROAMED the length of Kennedy’s body as I watched her walk out of the cafeteria. She was furious, whereas I was an imbalanced combination of pissed, and turned on. I was a bastard, I knew that, but my body clearly didn’t get that memo. Either that, or my dick ignored the fucking post-it that read ‘Kennedy Monroe doesn’t make you hard!’

  The sound of my heart’s volatile thump-thump drowned out all other sounds, and in my mind I tried to piece together what had just happened.

  “That girl needs help,” muttered Amy. I didn’t bother acknowledging her comment. She didn’t know Kennedy, or anything about our situation, and her opinion meant shit to me.

  She was a tall, voluptuous redhead who I’d met last year during one of my architecture classes. We’d fooled around a few times, and for the last few days she’d been hanging around more and more. Until now it hadn’t been a problem, but I didn’t do exclusivity or ‘clingy’.

  “C’mon, baby. Let me take care of those cuts,” she said. That nasal thing she did with her voice in an attempt to sound cute was annoying as fuck, and I remembered why I liked having her mouth bound shut when we had sex.

  Looking down at where her hand rested on my arm, I saw the marks left on my skin. They were red, and angry, and a few of them had even started to bleed a little. Kennedy had a mean swing, but when I bought the flowers for her, I didn’t anticipate that she’d use them to attack me. What had I expected though? That she’d just forgive me, and pretend it never happened? Yeah right.

  The noise levels rose, and everyone in the cafeteria had returned to whatever it was they were doing before Kennedy showed up. Except for me. My mind was on constant replay – her green eyes darkened. Pause. Is that what she looked like when she was on the brink of coming? Play. Her mouth opened and her lips moved with every expletive thrown my way. Pause. I knew what those lips tasted like. Sweet, soft, and smooth. What would they look like wrapped around my –

  “Dane, hello?”

  Amy’s nasal voice interrupted the visual party going on in my head, and I had to refrain from letting out an audible groan. Her timing was impeccable though. The last thing I wanted was to imagine those kinds of things about Kennedy of all people.

  “Leave it,” I said, pulling my arm away. “I’ll clean it up later.”

  I caught Reid’s eye, and saw that he was just as taken aback by what Kennedy had done as what I was. She’d never fought back before, and I wasn’t going to admit to him that I liked it.

  “You okay?” He asked. He discarded what was left of the rose stems, and kicked away the petals on the floor.

  “Yeah. I think I’m going to head home, and get cleaned up before we head out to Billy’s.”

  I wasn’t in the mood to go out anymore, but going to a bar was more appealing than sitting at home brooding.

  “I’ll see you in a while,” he replied. “I have a call to make.”

  That was his way of saying ‘I’m calling Jade’.

  He grabbed his bag from the floor, and weaved his way through the tables to the exit, his phone already at his ear. Maybe now that him and Jade were talking again he wouldn’t be so damn temperamental. It felt like I’d been living with a hormonal woman since Saturday, and I’d be happy to have Reid back to normal again.

  “So, will I see you later?” Asked Amy. Her hand traveled up my arm, and the sight of her suddenly made my ‘hard’ problem down below not so hard anymore.

  “Not tonight,” I replied. “I need to spend time with my boys.”

  Her protest died behind me when I picked up my bag and left. I needed to get out of there, and do something to rid my head of all Kennedy-related thoughts.

  I was half way to our apartment when my phone rang. Pulling it from my pocket, I saw ‘mom’ flashing across the screen and sighed heavily before answering. I loved my mother, dearly, but sometimes having the simplest conversation with her was hard work.

  “Hey mom,” I greeted. My voice was thick with the practiced enthusiasm I had whenever she called.

  “Hi sweetheart. I haven’t heard from you in a while so I thought I’d check in.”

  Melanie Winters was a beautiful woman, with a heart to match, but unfortunately life had tainted her. I understood her pain, and her loss, but we coped with it in different ways.

  My mother became a shell of her former self, like she’d crawled deeper into herself and never came out. I, on the other hand, chose whatever would numb the torn edges of the hole in my chest, whether it was too much alcohol or sex with faceless girls. God knows I should’ve made better choices, but at the time it had worked and I’d felt nothing.

  “Sorry, mom. Classes have been really busy, and dad got me that assistant coach position that’s also taking up my free time.”

  “I understand sweetheart, I just…” the line went quiet, and when my mother spoke again I could hear the hitch in her voice. “I miss you,” she sniffled. Fuck. I couldn’t deal with her when she got like this. I didn’t want to be insensitive, but it was just too damn hard. “You’ve been so absent lately, Dane, and sometimes I feel like I’ve lost both my children.”

  The air left my lungs like I’d been hit with a sledgehammer. I hated talking about this.

  “Your birthday is coming up,” she said. “Your father thinks we should do something this year.”

  “No,” I snapped.

  My mother’s sharp inhalation on the other side was audible, and I winced. She didn’t deserve my hostility. We were after all carrying around the same sorrow.

  “Don’t you think we should do something this year?” My mother asked quietly.

  “What’s the point?” I asked. “Jewel isn’t here anymore mom, and I don’t feel like celebrating when my twin is buried six feet under.”

  I regretted the words immediately, knowing they would cause my mother a world of hurt. I should’ve been more considerate, but bringing up my sister, and the fact that she was no longer alive, was a trigger.

  “Dane.” She hiccupped, and it scratched at my self-condemnation.

  “Sorry, mom,” I said. My body suddenly felt weary, and I wanted the conversation to be over already. “I just…”

  “I know honey, I know, but you can’t hide from the rest of your life just because she’s gone. You have to live enough for
both of you.”

  Her words echoed and bounced around in my head. She was right, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her I had no idea how to live anymore. I’d spent more than a year living in limbo, and I’d grown comfortable being stuck between the life I had before my sister died, and the life I now had without her.

  “It’s not that easy,” I murmured. I’d stopped on the sidewalk just outside our dorm building. My feet were glued to the ground, and I thought the feeling of being stuck was quite fitting.

  “You have to try Dane, not only for Jewel but for yourself. And please, come home and see me. I miss you.”

  I expelled a heavy breath from the confines of my chest, and clutched the phone tighter. “I will mom, I promise. I miss you too.”

  “Call me, and we can do lunch okay? Love you.”

  “I will. Love you too, mom.”

  I ended the call and stood rooted on the spot for a few more minutes. My mind filled with images of my sister, her face so much like mine. Her hair was honey blonde, like our mother’s, and we’d both inherited her crystal blue eyes while I’d inherited my fathers’ dark hair. That was where our similarities ended. Our personalities were as different as night and day, and yet she was still my favorite person. She’d been the calm to my storm all our lives, right up until the moment she was taken from me. After that I was just…lost.

  I found myself flicking through the photos on my phone, stopping at each one that was taken of my sister and me together. We were both smiling like goofballs in every single one, and then I stumbled across a photo I didn’t even know I had. Jewel was grinning, and so was Kennedy, their faces pressed close together. Jewels’ arm was extended, and I figured she was the one who took it. They were younger, both sophomores in high school. How it ended up on my phone I didn’t know, but I remembered the day it was taken…

  I stood at the glass sliding doors overlooking the deck and pool area in the back garden. My face was twisted into a scowl, and I was pissed that Jewel had decided to invite her to our house while our parents were out of town.

  “Stop staring,” said Jewel. She stopped next to me, holding a glass of iced tea in each hand. “She won’t bite.”

  I looked at my sister then. “You know she shouldn’t be here, Jewel. We can’t be caught socializing with her.”

  With a roll of her eyes, she replied, “I don’t care about that family stuff, Dane. It’s stupid, and completely archaic. She’s my best friend, and if mom and dad have a problem with it, then so be it. They don’t get to choose my friends. Besides, if you took the time to get to know Kennedy, you’ll see that she doesn’t care about the pathetic feud between our families, and she’s actually kind of nice.”

  With that, Jewel stepped outside and took a seat next to Kennedy on a lounger. I ground my teeth together, unable to understand the feelings running riot inside my head. I envied Jewel. She didn’t care about the consequences, not only regarding her friendship with someone from the Monroe family, but also about life in general. She was free, and I’d wished I could know how that felt. In truth, I was in a prison of my own making. I knew Kennedy was off limits, but still I found myself drawn to her, the proverbial moth to a flame awaiting the inevitable burn.

  Her laugh traveled through the open glass doors, and it stopped me from walking away. It was an angelic sound, the kind that rendered the strongest of men weak. The waves of her hair glowed in the summer sun, dropping low with the movement with her head thrown back. God, she was beautiful. So perfect it wasn’t fair to every other woman out there. But she was untouchable and it only fueled my anger.

  I slapped the glass and turned my back. I had my phone in my hand as I walked out the door, and dialed up one of the girls on my contact list. I needed to get rid of everything Kennedy made me feel, and I only knew one way to do that…

  The memory landed in the pit of my stomach like a rock. That was the first time I realized that even if I could have Kennedy, she was far too good for the likes of a dick like me.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Kennedy

  FRIDAY COULDN’T HAVE come at a better time. I was dangerously close to crashing due to exhaustion. Hence the reason I was running late. Very late. I’d stayed up until an ungodly hour this morning studying, and while I’d reminded myself countless times to set my alarm, I hadn’t actually done it. I had tests coming out of my ears, and to top that off, I was trying to decide what I wanted to major in. I’d chosen to put it off while I was in Georgia with my grandparents, too busy putting myself back together to worry about my future, but after almost three months of classes, the need to make a decision was starting to gnaw at me.

  When Jade finally managed to get me out of bed, I was already ten minutes late for my Introduction to Psychology class, and rather than skip it, I raced around the room like a hurricane to get ready. I slipped on a white summer dress, my red Converse sneakers that were due for a replacement, and then grabbed my backpack before rushing out of the front door. Jade was kind enough to pass me a to-go cup of freshly brewed coffee, and I swallowed the hot liquid too eagerly before it scalded my tongue.

  The air was already hot, and sticky outside, and clung to my skin as I walked briskly across the quad in the direction of the human sciences building. My hair flew around me wildly, reminding me that I forgot to run a brush through it in my dizzy race to class. I looked like a complete mess, but that was the least of my concerns. Professor Le Grange was going to make a spectacle of my tardiness, and the last thing I wanted was to be put on show as an example for the rest of my classmates. Not the best way to kick off the weekend, that’s for sure.

  I was so focused on how I was going to deal with the impending humiliation that I hadn’t been paying attention to anything other than increasing my pace to get to class, and by the time I heard the warning, a large round object had already made contact with my temple, knocking me off kilter. My bag fell to the ground, dragging me with it, and the hot coffee in my hand spilled down the front of my dress right before I hit the ground with an ‘oomph’.

  I rolled to my side, noting the looks on the faces of my fellow students, and groaned. I squinted into the sun, the tempo of the throbbing in my head increasing, when a shadow crossed over my face.

  “Jesus, are you okay?”

  The voice was unfamiliar, but when I opened my eyes, I was able to put it to a face. And what a face. Good lord.

  “Uh…” I stuttered.

  “Here, let’s get you off the ground.” Hotty McHotness stuck his hand out, and then proceeded to help me to my feet.

  “Can you tell me your name?” He asked, concern marring his perfect eyebrows. His eyes were green, but where mine were clear, his were flecked with honey. A mop of shaggy blond hair hung on his forehead, damp with sweat. His cheekbones were high, his jaw firm, and his lips plump. I was so busy staring at him that I forgot he’d asked me something.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I asked if you could tell me your name, sweetheart.” He had a drawl, and something about his voice, and his classic good looks seemed familiar. I couldn’t quite place it, but I felt like I’d seen him before.

  I shook my head, wincing, and scrambled for a reply. Your name, you idiot. K-E-N-N-E-D-Y.

  “Yes, uh, Kennedy. My name’s Kennedy.”

  “Kennedy,” he repeated, his pouty lips sliding up into a half-grin. “That’s a good sign. It means you probably don’t have a concussion.”

  I rubbed my temple. “You should watch where you throw that thing.”

  With pursed lips, Hotty McHotness replied, “You should watch where you’re walking.”

  I stepped back, and gave him an incredulous look. “Are you saying it’s my fault that your ball miraculously found its way to my head? Because last I checked, balls don’t fly on their own. They have to be thrown.”

  Sure, I was in a hurry, and should have been a little more observant, but the fact that this guy had the nerve to blame me for his poor sense of ball-throwing direction was starti
ng to piss me off.

  He smirked, and I noticed the way his eyes roamed my body. He was about to say something, but stopped as soon as his eyes landed on my chest. So much for chivalry. First he hits me with his ball, and now he’s not so subtly checking out my boobs. What a pig!

  “Hey, buddy, my eyes are up here,” I snapped. My irritation was growing, and was only made worse by the fact that I was most definitely not going to make my class. Could this day get any worse?

  No name guy choked back a laugh, and when I followed his gaze, I had my answer. Yes, this day can get worse.

  My coffee had spilled all the way down the front of my dress, and I would have been happy with that if it had been the worst part. But no. Karma, or God, or whoever else had some cosmic power, had decided to take it one step further. The front of my dress had become rather see-through, if a little brown, but it was still painfully obvious that my nipples had joined in the fun and had started playing peek-a-boo. Sadly, in my rush this morning, I completely forgot to put a bra on. Not that it would’ve mattered, since I wasn’t overly ‘busty’ to begin with, but I wasn’t exactly planning on showing my goods to the world.

  “You done staring at my tits, you jerk? Or can I leave now?”

  My cheeks were hot, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the heat, or humidity.

  “Shit, sorry. Give me a minute…” his words trailed off as he walked towards a tree not too far from where we were currently standing. I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to ignore the admiring glances of a few other male students who were walking past. Hotty McHotness came back, and handed me a football jersey. I frowned. “What am I supposed to do with this?” I was being overly rude, and I knew it, but I’d reached my limit on the shit-that-could-go-wrong-today scale and needed to get the hell out of dodge before something else went wrong.

  “Put it on. It will cover up your, uh, dress.”

  I hesitated for a moment, and then took the jersey from his out-stretched hand. The name ‘Ambrose’ was stitched on the back, with the number 17 below it.