Blurring the Line

by Nicola Marsh

  If I'd scored a direct hit he didn't show it. If anything, his smile widened.

  "Don't worry, I'll be here for the next month." He pointed to a chart on the wall. "The clinic's short-staffed at the moment. One physio's on long service leave, another went into labor six weeks early, so the rest of the crew are picking up the slack."

  He tapped the stack of patient files. "Which means you're stuck with me."

  "Stuck being the operative word," I muttered, wishing I could be anywhere but here, knowing it was futile.

  "You'll survive," he said, waiting until I'd sat before resuming his seat. "Where do you want to start?"

  He didn't want to know.

  "Why don't you give me a rundown of the patients we're seeing this morning, then give me a tour of the place later?"

  He nodded. "Done."

  And just like that, he divvied up files, becoming increasingly animated as he outlined our morning's work.

  I should've been rapt I was one step closer to completing my degree. But as Joel droned on about the complications of post-hip-replacement surgery, I couldn't help but wonder how the hell I'd cope being this close to him yet a world away.

  Chapter 6

  JOEL

  I'd lasted five days.

  Five excruciatingly long, tense days, pretending to be the model physio guiding a student. Being the ultimate professional. Keeping the conversations focused on mobilization techniques for the cervical spine and the benefits of lumbar traction.

  It had been going well. Until today. Because today, Annabelle had assisted me in the hydrotherapy pool, which meant I'd seen her in a bathing suit … and I'd reverted to awkward while trying to get a grip on my relentless attraction to her.

  She'd noticed too and rather than leaving me the hell alone, she'd asked me to meet her at the café next door to review the week. Nothing out of the ordinary, we did a weekly performance appraisal with all the undergrads. But I didn't want to sit at a cozy table for two, discussing our jobs. I wanted to head home and away from the temptation that Annabelle personified.

  Pathetic, really, considering her swimsuit had been a sedate black one piece. It shouldn't have rattled me this much. But it had and I couldn't get the image out of my head of peeling that swimsuit off her body to reveal full breasts, a curvy waist and heaven below.

  And once the fantasies kicked in, I couldn't turn the frigging things off. I remembered her graduation night: long, hot kisses that went on forever. The panting sounds she made, the moans as I ground against her. We'd been fully clothed but going at it like we couldn't get enough. Then I'd slipped my hand inside her panties … she'd gone off like a rocket, the memory of her screaming into my mouth as she came making me rock hard.

  Fuck. I couldn't do her appraisal. Not now. Now when I was aching for her. The cute eighteen-year-old she'd been and the luscious twenty-two year old she was now.

  "Here's your coffee." The waitress deposited an espresso in front of me, and a soy latte opposite. I'd taken the liberty of ordering for Annabelle, figuring the faster we did this the better.

  "Thanks." The smile I fired at the waitress faded as I caught sight of Annabelle entering the cafe.

  "Yell if you want to order anything else."

  I nodded absentmindedly as the waitress returned to the kitchen, leaving me an unimpeded view as Annabelle sauntered toward me. And it was definitely a saunter, like she'd gauged my kick-started libido and was determined to make me suffer.

  "Sorry I'm late," she said, sliding into the chair opposite. "Had to drop off some stuff at the dorm."

  "No worries." I managed to sound upbeat, while beneath the table I had a hard-on that wouldn't quit.

  "Thanks for this." She raised her coffee cup in my direction before taking a sip. Another. Closing her eyes and sighing like a deeply satisfied woman.

  Shit.

  "This is going to be the fastest appraisal on record." I realized I was fiddling with the cutlery and stopped. "You're good, Annabelle. Very good. The best student we've had come through all semester."

  "Thanks." She blushed and a part of me I'd long suppressed wanted to bundle her into my arms and hug her tight. "Is there anything you want me to study over the weekend before next week?"

  "We've got a burns patient lined up for Monday, and a hand re-attachment after a mill accident, so maybe do a bit of research on the latest rehab methods for those."

  I sounded so cool, so calm, so professional … while noticing the way she filled out the tight-fitting red T-shirt she'd changed into.

  "It's been a good week," she said, placing her coffee cup on the table. "Surprisingly so."

  "We were always good together."

  Dammit, why the hell did I have to say that? Last thing I needed was for her to revert to uptight and judgmental, the way she'd been at the start of the week.

  We'd found common ground, professional ground, and it had to stay that way, despite the rampant urge to see if she still felt as good as she looked.

  "We were good mates," she said, her tone carefully modulated, as if she didn't want to cross an invisible line between us. "Though the teasing got a bit much after a while."

  "You loved it."

  She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, being called Smelly-Bellie did it for me every time."

  I know what did it for her, and it wasn't being called dumb nicknames.

  She must've registered the meaning behind what she'd said a second later, because she stared at me, her eyes wide and impossibly blue, a flicker of something akin to excitement in their depths.

  "Stop looking at me like that." It came out harsher than intended, but if she kept staring at me that way, I wouldn't be able to hold my shit together.

  "Like what?"

  She had the audacity to add a few eyelash battings for good measure and together with her smirk, alerted me to the fact she was enjoying making me squirm.

  "Quit it," I growled and eyed the door. "Look, I have to go—"

  "Hot date?"

  "No."

  "Would you like there to be?" She leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table, pushing her breasts together.

  "We're not going on a date," I said, gritting my teeth so I wouldn't blurt exactly how much I'd like that.

  "How about dinner, then? Two old friends getting reacquainted outside of the workplace?"

  Confused by the game she was playing, I shook my head. "According to you, I'm an arsehole, someone you tolerate at work because you have to. And now you want to have dinner with me?"

  I felt like an idiot, as if I couldn't see some huge missing piece of the puzzle. "Why?"

  "For old time's sake." Her lips curved into a coy smile I had no hope of interpreting. "We both know where we stand. What's the harm in catching up?"

  The harm? Where did she want me to start, because I could give her a list a mile long.

  The last time we'd grown closer, I'd ended up fingering her to orgasm and pushing her away before I made the biggest mistake of my life. Sleeping with Annabelle back then would've tied me to Uppity-Doo in a way I never wanted.

  And now? What if I slept with her now? Two consenting adults, a world away from our past, finishing what we'd once started.

  Yeah, I could justify it. If I wanted to be a bastard all over again. Because Annabelle had left me in little doubt how she felt that night we'd spent together. If it hadn't been evident in her touch and her sighs, she’d told me later.

  It's why I'd left the next day, rather than at the end of summer as planned. And I hadn't looked back.

  So why the hell was I contemplating going back there again, metaphorically speaking?

  "I'm sorry for overreacting that night at the bar." She held up her hands in surrender. "Seeing you again shook me up and I took it out on you. Forgive me?"

  Damn, there she went again with that smile that slugged me in the solar plexus.

  "Nothing to forgive." I waved away her apology, well aware I deserved the arsehole label she'd tagged me with that night.
I'd been all that and more and if she had half an inkling of how badly I wanted her now, she'd call me worse.

  "Good, then dinner it is." Her glossed lips widened yet her gaze remained guileless, as I wondered how she managed to channel innocence and vixen simultaneously.

  "I didn't agree."

  "Yeah, but you wanted to." She reached across the table and scraped a fingernail across the back of my hand, an innocuous gesture that should've meant nothing but short-circuited what was left of my common sense. "Come on, I know the perfect place."

  I should've refused again. I should've reiterated that this was a really bad idea.

  Instead, I found myself following her out the door, trying desperately not to stare at her amazing arse, and failing.

  Chapter 7

  ANNABELLE

  At the start of the week, I'd made a deal with myself. Survive working five days without throttling Joel and I'd treat myself with a night out.

  That night out hadn't included Joel.

  I'd had my working week planned. Stay professional, show him exactly how good my physio skills were and play it cool. But all that had changed during our hydrotherapy session this afternoon. Because what I'd seen in Joel's eyes as I'd entered the water? Had made my skin pebble, my nipples harden and reminded me of exactly how long since I'd had sex.

  Eleven months, to be exact. And it hadn't been all that great.

  Joel's hungry gaze had devoured me and come back for seconds. Hot. Yearning. Ravenous. Reminding me of how good kisses could be with the right guy, of how my body could come alive given half a chance.

  For those ten, long seconds he'd stared at me, I'd been transported to that night he'd made me scream, a night I couldn't forget no matter how hard I'd tried.

  And in that moment, everything became startlingly clear. My melodramatics last week, when I'd badgered him for answers about the night we'd shared and why he'd run the next day, had been a waste of time.

  He'd said that night meant nothing. Maybe so, but how Joel felt was irrelevant. Because I now knew a surefire way to get him out of my system once and for all, to eradicate the memory of graduation night, to prove it was nothing more than a teenage crush that had grown out of all proportion for the very fact I'd been thwarted.

  I had to sleep with Joel.

  Though with what I envisaged, there'd be little sleep involved.

  Crazy, but once I'd made the decision, all the awkwardness I'd been experiencing fell away and I'd reverted to the girl I'd always been around him: funny and teasing and quick to laugh.

  Joel, on the other hand, seemed skittish and wary and out of his depth. It made me want to giggle but I didn't. Because for my plan to work, I needed him to revert to the way he'd once been around me: a guy who loved hanging out with a girl just for the heck of it.

  That's what my invitation for an after-work coffee had been about. But he'd been jittery and eyeing the door the entire time I'd been there; when he wasn't staring at my mouth, that is.

  So I'd bullied the poor guy into having dinner with me. And I'd taken him to the best hamburger joint in town, a place so reminiscent of his favorite diner back in Uppity-Doo I knew he couldn't fail to miss the familiarity.

  I was hoping that's not all he'd want to get familiar with by the end of the night.

  "You picked this place on purpose," he said, tapping his beer bottle to mine after we'd demolished our dinner. "Your attempt at a stroll down memory lane?"

  I shrugged, and hid my smile behind my bottle before taking a sip. "Took a lucky guess you’re still partial to hamburgers, onion rings and curly fries."

  He eyed me with speculation. "Since when did you become a game-player?"

  "I'm not." But a girl had to do what a girl had to do to get the guy. "Relax, Joel. We're two friends hanging out, like we used to."

  "We never hung out," he said, his tone a low growl, softened by the gleam of remembrance in his eyes. "You tagged along where you weren't wanted."

  "And now?" I leaned forward, seeing his lips part, hearing his sharp intake of breath. "Am I wanted now?"

  He stared at my lips for an exquisite, drawn-out moment before dragging his gaze to meet mine. "Why are you doing this? We've got another three weeks to get through—"

  "This isn't about work and you know it." Disappointment lanced my brave girl act. What had I expected, for him to admit to wanting me and drag me back to his place for a night of raunchy fun?

  I knew this wouldn't be easy. In fact, it'd probably take more than one night of walking down memory lane to thaw Joel. I had to be patient. "We've managed fine the last five days and I intend on continuing that professionalism throughout my stint at the clinic. But this?" I waved my hand between us. "Don't pretend there isn't an attraction here because there is. And you can ignore it all you like but it's not going away."

  Gob-smacked, he stared at me like I'd just proposed we do it right here, right now, on the table.

  "In case you hadn't noticed, I'm a big girl now." I squeezed my shoulders together, emphasizing my cleavage for good measure. "I'm not the same, naïve teenager with a crush. I know what I want."

  Covering his hand on the table with mine, I said, "Do you?"

  I wanted him to turn his hand over and grip mine. I wanted him to vocalize he wanted me. I wanted a lot of things with Joel, but when he withdrew his hand I knew I wouldn't get much out of him tonight.

  "You were right," he said, downing the rest of his beer before placing the bottle on the table. "I'm an arsehole. I travel the world because I hate being tied to one place or one person for too long. I don't enjoy small town life. And I don't want to be a bastard because I've toyed with the one woman I shouldn't."

  "You've got to be fucking kidding me," I muttered, shaking my head. "I know for a fact you're no longer in touch with Trev, so that whole 'hands off the sibling' rule guys have doesn't apply anymore."

  "It's not just that." His lips compressed into a thin line as he glanced away, focusing on the jukebox in the far corner rather than look at me.

  "Then tell me, for fucks-sake."

  The corners of his mouth twitched as he refocused on me. "You said fuck. Twice. Must be bad."

  "Fuck you." I flipped him the bird for good measure. "Now that you're suitably shocked by my potty mouth, how about you tell me the truth."

  I could see the war waging in his eyes. Honesty with deception. Hope with shame. With a healthy dose of regret.

  I waited, knowing if he felt half as jumbled as I had over the last week, he'd need time to process.

  Finally, he nodded. "I don't want to start something with you now for the same reason I didn't back then."

  He huffed out a long breath and rubbed the back of his neck. "Because you're the type of girl who deserves more."

  Touched by his honesty, and a tad overwhelmed, I swallowed the unexpected lump of emotion in my throat. "More than what?"

  "More than a transient prick like me can offer." He sounded so bleak, so forlorn, I stood and slid into the booth seat next to him. Thankfully, he moved over to let me in.

  "I don't want anything more from you than this." I laid my hand on his thigh, felt the muscle flex beneath my palm. Emboldened, I slid it higher, stopping just short of his groin. "I'm not asking for a commitment, Joel. I just want you."

  He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing, but he didn't move away or dislodge my hand. "You want sex, that's it?"

  I could lie. It would be so easy. Because I knew that's what guys like Joel wanted: friends with benefits. Freedom to have fun without the commitment.

  But I didn't just want a one-night stand. I wanted to be a friend. With benefits.

  "What do I want?" I tapped my bottom lip, pretending to think. "Well, I'm here for another three weeks, then I'm flying back to Melbourne. So how about a steamy fling?"

  He stared at me like I'd proposed we did it twenty-four-seven for my remaining time here. "Cut the crap, Bellie. You're not that type of girl."

  "How the hell would you
know?" I lowered my voice when several nearby patrons turned our way. "It's been four years and you don't know the first thing about me anymore."

  "Bullshit." He slid away and my hand lay like a limp fish on the vinyl between us. "I know you want marriage and kids and the whole damn fairytale. I know you had a crush on me. And I know this stuff because you told me." He dragged in a few deep breaths, his mouth twisted into a grimace. "So don't sit there and pretend you want no strings attached sex because you know damn well it can never be just sex for us."

  Damn him for being right. Damn him for calling me on it. And damn him for making me want him regardless.

  I knew Joel was a master at running from anything resembling emotional attachment. No way in hell would I make this easy for him.

  "You said us. Don't you mean it could never be just sex for me?"

  He actually blanched before sighing. "We're friends. I care about you. Of course it'd be more than just sex for both of us."

  I placed the back of my hand on my forehead and mock swooned. "Oh my God, I could've sworn you just admitted to actually caring about me."

  "Cut it out, smart arse." He elbowed me, which meant he'd slid closer again. "I do care, and I value our friendship. Which is why we can't have sex."

  I snorted. "Yeah, you value our friendship so much you haven't kept in touch."

  His expression turned stubborn. "I knew you were in Melbourne studying physio. Didn't want to cramp your style."

  I snickered. "You're full of shit."

  "You've got me pegged."

  He was starting to close off. I could see it in his cockiness, which he wore like a defensive cloak.

  I needed to shake him up a little.

  "Want to know why I chose physiotherapy as a career?"

  "Because you love Uppity-Doo." He paused, half turning to face me. "You want to grow old there and working for Mum, eventually taking over her practice, would suit you

  perfectly."

  I made a buzzing sound. "Wrong answer." Time to really rattle him. "I did it because I wanted to get closer to you, dumb arse. To work in the same circles. But when I arrived in Melbourne you'd completed your final clinical placement in Sydney and were travelling for work." I shrugged, like it meant little. "So much for that theory."