Toeing the Line (The Complete Serial)

by Allyson Lindt

  She still struggled with feeling bad about not feeling bad for brushing Archer off when she knocked on Zane’s door.

  “’S open.”

  She pushed inside, latched the door shut behind her, and flipped the lock into place. She wasn’t sure why, but something told her it might be a good idea.

  Zane stood at the opposite end of the room in the kitchen area, leaning against the counter near the sink, and eating a Popsicle. He gave her an exaggerated wink. “Do anything for you, baby?”

  Some of her tension evaporated at the display. She laughed and crossed the room. “Are you saying you’re interested in letting me watch you lick phallic things?”

  “No.”

  “Too bad.” She pushed out her lower lip. Stepping forward, she wrapped her hand around his wrist and sucked the sweet slowly into her mouth, devouring the entire length before pulling back with a slurp. A low groan tore from his throat. She licked her lips, eyes wide and—she hoped—innocent, as she looked at him again.

  He tossed the Popsicle in the sink. “You’re evil. Like a hundred and twenty percent.”

  She stepped away, thumbs in her pockets, tugging down the waistband of her jeans. “Are you complaining?”

  “Not even close.” He nudged her toward the couch and nodded at the laptop on the coffee table. “Watch with me.”

  She dropped onto the futon next to him, her arm brushing his. “What are we watching?” She blinked and looked a second time. He wasn’t. Really?

  Thin, animated girls, with Crayola-colored hair and skirts so short they didn’t even cover their asses, battled evil cartoon villains. “Why are you watching Sailor Moon?”

  “I wanted to see something.”

  “The subtle lesbian subtext?” She knew a lot of people loved the show and considered it their introduction to anime—Japanese cartoons—but she’d never been able to get into it.

  “Honestly…” He shifted in his seat and rested his arm on the back of the couch, his attention on her. “It’s really a more in-your-face kind of thing. Also, I was thinking about how cool it would be if that were your stuff. Can you imagine them animating your drawings?”

  She could. She had. “It’s still an excuse.”

  He shrugged. “It is. I was bored. I didn’t know what you’d want to watch, so I grabbed something I thought might make me laugh.”

  She leaned her head on his arm, enjoying the warmth of his skin against hers. “Did it work?”

  “Absolutely. It’s hilarious. You should try it.”

  She twisted her mouth. He knew how she felt about the show.

  He pulled his arm away so he could turn back to the laptop screen, but settled his hand on her leg. “Give it a try, keeping in mind you’re supposed to laugh.”

  She rested her fingers on his. Had they always been this physical and intimate, even as friends? The question came from nowhere, and she pushed it aside. “All right. I’ll try.”

  He glanced at her. “Just remember, if any of the intense battles get to be too much, I’m here for you.”

  “You’re such a gentleman like that.”

  Intense battles. Dork. Still, it gave her an idea. He let his attention drift back to the show, and she did the same. Her opportunity was coming soon. The music and creepy feeling on the screen helped the cartoon-tension build.

  The moment the villain burst onto the scene, flamboyant and sparkling with black glitter, she screamed and buried her face in his chest.

  He jumped. “Holy shit.” His out a frantic rhythm. “You scared the crap out of me.”

  She laughed, face against his ribs. Warmth seeped into her ear, as she listened to his racing heart. She inhaled softly, breathing in the comforting scent of body wash and deodorant. “Sorry.” She didn’t sound remotely apologetic. “You sure you’re not the one who needs a place to hide?”

  “I’m good like this.” His voice took on a husky tone, and he trailed his fingers through her hair.

  She pulled away, retort catching in her throat when she saw the way he watched her. Heat spread over her face. She adjusted her weight on the futon, turning to face him. Snippets of the day before flashed through her mind, making her body tingle. She kissed him, not resisting when he ran his hands up her arms and then held her in place by the back of her neck.

  She broke away, loving the question and want in his eyes. Smirking, she trailed her finger down the side of his face. She shifted into his lap and straddled his legs. “Getting comfortable.”

  He moved his hands to her lower back, pulled her close, and returned the kiss, scraping her bottom lip with his teeth and not letting her go.

  She pressed her chest against his, their thin tees not providing much of a barrier. His heat mingled with the brush of fabric on her nipples, and she moved against him to build the friction.

  He slid his hands to her ass, making her arch her back. She broke away long enough to look him in the eye, her breath coming out in needy bursts. “We seem to be making a habit of this.”

  He nipped at her lower lip, and then glided his mouth down her jaw, until his lips found the hollow at the base of her neck. “It’s because you’re so addictive.” His words vibrated against her skin.

  Desire thrummed through her, leaving every nerve ending screaming for more. Heat pulsed between her legs. She didn’t want to interrupt the moment, but she had to know what this was. It would be all right. He’d confirm they were still friends and give her a hint of where this was going, and they could keep making out. “For how long?”

  “I don’t… I mean…” He pulled away, uncertainty marring his smile.

  That’s not how he was supposed to respond. She went rigid. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  A frown slipped in, to obliterate his amusement. “We’re just fooling around. That was the deal.”

  “Yeah, of course.” Her heart thudded in her chest like a rock grinding against her ribs.

  “I didn’t realize things had evolved. Do you want more?”

  Why had she let her heart wander down this path? He was supposed to be happy about the question. Tell her he felt the same way. That she wasn’t the only one falling hard and fast.

  Wait. Falling? She knew better than to attach herself to a guy because she slept with him. “Of course not. Forget I brought it up.” She extracted herself from his lap and stood in front of him.

  “Riley.” He grasped her fingers, holding her in place.

  She stared down at him, hating the hope that surged inside and mingled with desire. Did this mean more than flirting and getting off? Would he say it?

  He looked away, dropping her hand. “I don’t know what to say.”

  Damn it. Hurt throbbed in every muscle. It really was a game to him. “It’s cool. Friends with benefits—that’s all this is.” She shifted from one foot to the other, frowning deeper when she caught a glimpse of something leaning against the far wall. How had she missed that before? “Is that my sketchpad?” She grabbed her beloved book, her confusion growing.

  “You kept forgetting to pick it up.”

  “You changed the subject when I asked for it.”

  “You didn’t complain at the time.”

  Too many flavors of frustration and hurt flowed through her, for her to focus on any single one. “And I’m not now. Except, you know, for the whole distracting-me thing. Speaking of which, we’re talking about my sketchpad, not the ways you distracted me from it.”

  “Is this how it usually happens? You hide how you really feel, until you spill it all at once, and then expect the guy to respond immediately, or you take it all back? Is this what happened last time?”

  How dare he throw Archer or anyone else back in her face? After everything she told him in confidence, the accusation stung like lemon juice in an open wound. “You really think that little of me?”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I’m not the one who hasn’t dared get close to someone since his fiancée left him. Oh, wait, and the Air Force
girlfriend you loved so much, whom you never mention. Ever.”

  “Because your track record with men is so fantastic.” His tone was flat.

  She felt like she’d been socked in the gut with every concern she had about her love life, everything she hoped no one else saw, but knew they did. “Why are you doing this?”

  He met her, toe-to-toe, something new flashing in his eyes. “Maybe I’m trying to piss you off.”

  She choked on a response, as a fresh wash of hurt seeped into her. “Excuse me?”

  “Maybe”—his tone was snide, but pain still filled his eyes—“I’m trying to push you away.” As the words tumbled past his lips, he worked his jaw up and down and frowned. “Pissing you off and letting you make the decision to leave is a lot easier than telling you to go.”

  She swallowed the pang in her throat. “Why do you want me gone?”

  “Because you deserve better, Riley. We’re walking this impossible line, pretending the sex is just physical, ignoring that we’ve never been just friends, and you need more than I can give you.”

  Whatever she’d expected, it wasn’t that. But when she thought about it, he’d been dropping the hints all along. “Why are you so convinced you don’t deserve me?”

  His laugh was bitter and choked, as he scrubbed his hand over the stubble on the top of his head. “You think I’m this good, kind person, and I’m not.”

  “Why not? Is it because of what your granddad said? I know you love the man, but he’s not right about that. You’re not evil. What the hell does that even mean?”

  He sank on the edge of the futon, clenching and loosening a fist. He hand shook. “I didn’t turn down the surveillance job when I found out what I was doing. I didn’t walk away in some huff of indignation, spouting bullshit about moral gray areas. I stayed.”

  Riley knew there was more, but he wasn’t giving her enough to figure out what made that so bad. “You were military, and it was your job.”

  “No.” He dropped his head into his hands and dragged in a stuttered breath. “They gave me an out. Told me I could be transferred. Go do something else. I liked the challenge. Okay, sure, I was violating a few people’s privacy.” He tightened his jaw and flared his nostrils. “But I’m not stupid. If it wasn’t me, it would be someone else, and I was pushing my boundaries—doing things I’d never done before. I could make all the excuses in the world for why I stayed, but that was what it came down to.”

  Acid churned in her gut, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from saying something she hadn’t thought out. “But you left eventually, right?”

  “Yeah.” He was turned in her direction, but he didn’t see her. “I did. When I saw the first news stories, I ignored them. Hidden headlines in local papers, about a couple of the people we’d gathered intel on. Their deaths. The accidents. The car crash, or boating trip gone wrong, that took them and their entire family.”

  She leaned her arm on the table, to support herself. “That doesn’t mean it was your fault.”

  “It was. I looked deeper after the third accident. Found hints our information led to the decision. I asked Sabrina about it, and she confirmed. What we’d helped uncover took those people out of the picture.”

  Numbness filled Riley. “It’s not like you pulled the trigger.”

  “I might as well have.” He finally focused on her again. “Entire families died, because I wanted to be challenged. I found that information. I dug until it happened. That’s why I don’t deserve you. That’s why you need to leave.”

  She opened her mouth, but words failed her.

  “I don’t want you here, Riley.” His voice took on a hard edge. “I don’t want you in my life. We don’t mean anything. What we did was just sex. Me being selfish. Using you.”

  “Bullshit.” She still didn’t know what to do with his confession, but he couldn’t take this from her. “I knew what I was doing. I wanted the sex. I want you.”

  “You think that, but it’s not true. Let’s be honest. You don’t know what you want.” The waver in his gaze and the way he turned away as he spoke told her he didn’t believe his own words.

  That didn’t stop them from burrowing under her skin and gnawing at her frayed threads of composure. “You don’t really think that.”

  A pause dragged between them, before he said, “Of course I do. No one knows you better than me. It doesn’t matter if I think you’re awesome or amazing, you don’t believe it, and your opinion of you is all that matters. Go home. Don’t call me again. Find someone else, to fuck with your life.”

  “Zane.”

  “Leave.”

  She wanted to argue, but the strength wasn’t there. This was too much at once. She couldn’t process anything but how intensely it all hurt. She spun away without another word. It took the last of her restraint, to hold back the torrent of tears as she stormed from the room. At least she didn’t pass Archer anywhere between the apartment and the back door. She couldn’t have handled the most basic human interaction just then.

  She made it to her car and collapsed in the front seat before the tears took over. Sobs wracked her body, and she hugged herself tight, trying to keep from shaking apart. She leaned her forehead on the steering wheel, grateful for the cool morning. Every inch of her psyche hurt. Zane’s words echoed in her head, gnawing at every insecurity she had. And then his confession—what was she supposed to do with that? Too many questions assaulted her, for her to focus on anything.

  On top of it all, instead of telling him she didn’t hold his actions against him, instead of staying and comforting him like she always promised she’d do, she’d wrapped self-pity around her and left. He carried this massive burden, and she was in her car, crying because he knew the same truth about her that everyone else did.

  But she couldn’t go back and apologize. He didn’t want her there, and she didn’t know if she was strong enough to argue.

  What was she supposed to do? No experience in her entire life gave her a hint for how to handle something like this.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Disgust and nausea rolled through Zane. He thought maybe sleeping, putting yesterday behind him, would make it go away. Convince him he was right to push Riley away last night. He was wrong. He told her the truth—finally spilled his big secret—and just like he expected, she left.

  You told her to.

  She could have argued. Could have stayed.

  Do you blame her for going?

  No. It was what he wanted. What was best for her. He couldn’t draw her into this sinking pit with him. He was being selfish, leading her on, keeping her around, when he couldn’t give her what she needed long term.

  A painfully loud knock jarred him out of his own head. He could ignore it. If it was Archer or Jen, he didn’t want to see them. Or maybe, a distraction would help him ignore his invisible wounds a bit longer.

  His thoughts stalled when he yanked open the door and saw Riley. She stared at him, looking incredible despite the dark circles under her eyes and the oversized T-shirt and sweats.

  He steeled himself and dragged up the resolve to push her away. It all evaporated the moment he opened his mouth. “Hey. I’m making coffee. Do you want some?”

  She shook her head and stepped around him. Would she sit? Stay a while? That seemed like a horrible idea, but it sounded so good.

  She lingered in the middle of the room, rubbed her face, and looked at him again. “I don’t know why I’m here; you made yourself clear yesterday. But I still can’t leave this alone.”

  “Can you forgive me for what I did? For who I am?” He had no right to ask her that. He couldn’t forgive himself.

  She looked drained. Her shoulders drooped when she flopped to sit on the edge of the futon. She moved her lips a few times, before finally saying, , “I don’t know.”

  “Then we’re done here.”

  “You misunderstand.” Exhaustion lined her words. “I can see how much this devours you—what happened overseas. I don
’t hold that against you. It’s going to take time for me to process; I’ll be honest. I don’t think any less of you, though. I still adore you.”

  “Then what’s the problem?” He shouldn’t ask. He didn’t want to know.

  “You don’t trust me. Which is your right, but if we don’t have that, we don’t have anything. It’s my fault, too. This whole friends-with-benefits thing was a bad idea.”

  Damn straight. So why did hearing it gnaw deeper into his senses? Plenty of other women made cutoffs look erotic and tasted like cherry lip-gloss. “I still don’t know why you’re here,” he said.

  She nodded at the empty space next to her. He sat, and she twisted to face him, legs crossed. A heavy pause spread through the room, before she finally spoke. “High school. Senior year.”

  The four words echoed in his thoughts, and he froze. He forced himself to relax. At least if their past was going to torment them, they’d go full-throttle. There were so many old scars there. “You want to rehash what was some really miserable shit for both of us?”

  “Homecoming.”

  “Don’t do this.” He dropped his gaze. Of course she wanted to talk about that. She was going to push until she reopened more wounds.

  “I’d been hinting all summer that I wanted to you ask me.”

  The revelation dug deep. Why did she say that now? Why not ten years ago? It didn’t matter. He’d already dealt with that and moved on. So much had happened since, that moment shouldn’t even be a blip on his radar any longer. “To homecoming?”

  “Yes.”

  “So why didn’t you ask me? An even better question is, why did you say yes to someone else?”

  Her frown deepened. “I was an insecure teenage girl, with dreams of you being Prince Charming. I said yes to someone else, because I was hoping it would catch your attention and you would see what you were missing and ask me yourself.”

  “You did it to make me jealous?” he asked in disbelief. Such a childish game. So why did it tug at something warm inside?