Crossing the Line

by Nicola Marsh

  Date night.

  We'd planned it in the wee small hours of the morning, after we'd had sex three times, each more stupendous than the last. Looked like unburdening my soul had given my libido a kick in the arse too. Not that I'd ever had a problem in that department, especially with Mia. She was hot. Incredibly so and I wrenched my gaze away from her before I distracted my opponent with more than a killer return.

  The next four points flew by. The guy from a top club in Orange County double-faulted twice, missed a lob and couldn't return a forehand winner that zipped past him at a speed that surprised both of us.

  As I shook hands with my opponent, who stared at me through narrowed eyes, I resisted the urge to peek in Mia's direction again. This was another thing that was new: needing the approval of a woman to feel validated.

  Mum had always been my biggest supporter in everything I did, and while it meant a lot it kinda didn't count when my loudest, proudest cheerleader was related. But having Mia's support meant a lot. And that's what she'd been since we first met: supportive.

  Despite how I'd treated her, the many different ways in which I'd tried to push her away, she'd persisted. She hadn't given up on me, even when I was feeling pretty shitty after I'd first arrived and almost given up on myself.

  "Good game, kid." Dirk approached as I reached the sidelines. "Real good."

  "Thanks." I wiped the handle of my racket with a towel before sliding it into its cover. "Are we doing an analysis now or do I have time to shower?"

  "Go grab a shower and we'll save yours 'til last."

  "No worries." However, as I picked up my bag and Dirk hadn't budged, I braced. He hadn't spoken to me much since warning me off Mia, unless it was to criticize or instruct while I was on the practice courts. So the fact he was hanging around now? Made me suspicious.

  "What's changed, Sheldon?"

  Uh-oh. "What do you mean?"

  Dirk jerked his head at the court. "The way you played out there today? A far cry from your shitty intra-academy hit-out. And I like to figure out what motivates my players so we can hone it, use it and repeat it."

  I deliberately schooled my expression into an impassive mask. No way no how would Dirk want to know what had motivated me today, or how much I wanted to repeat it.

  "Guess I'm settling in."

  "And improving your attitude." Dirk tilted his head, studying me. "I liked what I saw out there today. A lot. Keep playing like that and you're destined for great things."

  Before I could respond, he held up his finger. "And just so you know? I don't dish out praise lightly." He slapped me on the back. "Keep up the good work, kid, and you'll go places."

  Guilt pierced my glow from his praise. I was deceiving this man, going directly against his wishes. If he ever found out, I'd be out on my arse, killer game or not. But the only place I wanted to be right now was in Mia's arms so I'd continue to play it cool.

  "Thanks. Appreciate you saying it." I hoisted my bag onto my shoulder. "See you later."

  Another backslap and Dirk headed towards the clubhouse, where he'd start dissecting the games of every player. First time he'd done it I'd been appalled, especially as my intra-academy tournament had been a rout. The guys had given me shit for it too, making jibes like kangaroos couldn't hold a racket and I should stick to Australia's national sports, cricket or Aussie Rules.

  It had bothered me at the time, having an icon of the game like Dirk pick apart my match and highlight every weakness. I wasn't a technical player. I didn't study the mechanics of shots, I just channeled my anger and hit the ball. Would be interesting to hear what he had to say today, considering every shot had felt like I was caressing the ball rather than slamming the crap out of it.

  "Nice job, Sheldon." Pete loped toward me and I inadvertently stiffened. Just because I'd worked things out with Mia didn't mean I'd lost the urge to pummel the guy for coming onto her. "You can actually play."

  I grunted a response and pushed past him, not expecting his hand to clamp on my bicep.

  "Wait up."

  When I glared at his hand, he got the message and released me. "What do you want?"

  "A favor."

  I didn't like his smarmy tone. "I don't do favors."

  "Trust me. You'll like this one." He gestured at the stands where Mia and Dani were deep in conversation. "I need a wingman. Someone to entertain the slut in the micro mini while I have a real crack at Mia."

  He elbowed me. "Double date. What do you say? Be a pal and give a guy a chance at sticking it to a fine piece of ass like Mia."

  I saw red. Or black. Every fucking color under the rainbow as rage so strong I could taste it swamped me.

  Not that I hadn't heard guys talk like this before. Hell, put a bunch of testosterone fuelled dickheads together in any sporting club and the trash talk was often punctuated with crap like what I'd just heard.

  But this time was different. He was talking about the girl I l—liked.

  I clenched and unclenched my hands several times, trying to release the fury tightening every muscle in my body, making me want to spring on Pete and pound him to a pulp.

  When I didn't respond, Pete groaned. "Don't tell me you're a pillow-biter."

  The fact he spoke as derogatorily about gays as he did women made me hate this prick all the more.

  I needed to get away before I did something regrettable in front of the entire team. "But doesn't Dirk come down hard on any guy who goes near his daughter?"

  "My dad played the circuit with Dirk so he’ll be cool." Pete grinned and my skin crawled. "I've been wanting to nail Mia for years."

  I walked away. That, or stuff up my last chance at the academy, and before I'd had a chance to spend quality time with Mia.

  "You're a soft-cock, Sheldon."

  I ignored Pete's taunt and kept walking. Before I ensured that Pete the Prick had no cock at all.

  Chapter 21

  MIA

  Kye had asked me out on a date.

  A real, honest to goodness date: dinner, movie and a moonlit walk.

  "Let's skip the movie," I said, bumping him with my hip. "I'd rather spend the next few hours talking with you than keeping my mouth shut."

  "Who said it would be?" He stopped where Santa Monica Beach gave way to Venice Beach, and tugged me closer. "Movies can be fun. We could make out for the entire time?"

  I laughed. "We can do that and more back at my villa."

  "Later." He ducked his head to nip my earlobe and I squealed. "You're insatiable."

  "Only for you." I pressed my lips against his, loving the feel of his arms wrapped around my waist.

  When we broke apart, a small frown creased his brow. "Pete's going to ask you out."

  I shrugged. "So? He's probably been doing that to anything in a skirt for years."

  "He's a lowlife."

  "Tell me something I don't know." I winced. "That wasn't my finest moment, using him to make you jealous."

  "You got that right." He whacked me playfully on the arm. "You could've just tried talking to me."

  I rolled my eyes. "I did and you didn't want to listen, remember? And you kept pushing me away." I made a chattering motion with my hand. "Constantly saying stuff like you weren't good for me. Blah, blah, blah."

  He captured my hand, raised it to his lips and brushed a kiss across the back of it, a strangely old-fashioned gesture that made me swoon. "I'm not good enough for you. Not by a long shot. But for some unfathomable reason, you bring out the best in me and I like feeling this good."

  Not the most eloquent declaration but I liked how he couched things in his own way, spoken directly from the heart.

  A tad overwhelmed by the feelings he elicited, I aimed for levity. "Come back to my villa and I guarantee to make you feel real good."

  "Stop. Date night now. Down and dirty later." He tweaked my nose and I marveled at how far we'd come.

  "Okay, Romeo, what's next?"

  "Fairy floss," he said, with an emphatic nod.

>   "You mean cotton candy?"

  "Semantics. Spun sugar tastes the same regardless of name."

  "Aussie."

  "Yank."

  "Hot."

  "Hotter." He pressed himself against me to prove it. "You're by far the hottest woman I've ever met."

  I snorted, secretly thrilled he found me attractive. "Considering you hang out with tennis jocks twenty-four-seven, that's faint praise."

  He slid his arms around my waist and I love how we fit together. "What do you want me to say? That your eyes remind me of melted chocolate mixed with caramel? That your skin glows like you’re lit from within? That your hair is like silk?"

  He laughed as my eyes narrowed. "Many of the girls who worked at the club read romance novels in their spare time. I'd hear them quote stuff like that."

  "And you remembered it?" I patted his cheek. "Here I was, thinking you're a macho Aussie when you're actually a marshmallow."

  "Soft center. Hard everywhere else." He pressed his pelvis against me to prove it. "On second thoughts, let's skip the fairy floss and head back to your villa."

  I'd love nothing better but if this was to be one of few dates we shared, I wanted to make the most of it.

  "Want to hear something corny?" I rested my palms on his chest. "I don't date much and I really want to make this one last."

  Understanding sparked in those incredible blue eyes I could lose myself in forever. "Ditto."

  Probably not the best time to ask, but curiosity had been eating away at me. "You don't do relationships?"

  He made a cute little scoffing sound. "You're kidding? Girls at high school didn't come near me because their parents would kill them for hanging around a kid from a strip club. And later at the academy, the focus was tennis, not dating."

  A faint pink stained his cheeks as he glanced over my shoulder, before meeting my gaze again. "You're a first for me."

  His honesty warmed me. "How so?"

  "I've dated casually over the years. Had quite a few one night stands." His eyes softened. "But the way we've hung out? How we've talked?" He shook his head. "I've never done that before."

  "Same here," I said, wondering if I had the guts to reveal my non-existent dating life. "No relationships. Minimal dates." I kept the fact I'd only ever slept with two guys before him to myself.

  "Why?" He captured my chin in one hand and tilted my face slightly, studying me. "You're sweet and smart and gorgeous."

  Heat flushed my cheeks. "Thanks."

  Silence stretched between us and he kept studying me. "You didn't answer my question?"

  That's because I had no idea if I was ready to reveal so much of myself to a guy I had no future with.

  I wasn't a fool. In a few weeks I'd be heading back to Denver and Kye would stay here, being groomed by my dad before taking the fast-tracked route to tennis stardom. He was that good. My dad knew it. I'd overheard him talking to some of the coaches after Kye's win today. Kye was the one they'd selected to push to the next level ASAP. I was happy for him. He deserved it. But I'd soon become a distant memory, the vacation fling he had when he first arrived in the States, and I didn't want him to realize he meant so much more to me than that.

  Because he did. I'd admitted it—albeit to myself—earlier tonight, sometime between the nachos and fajitas we'd shared at my favorite Mexican restaurant, that I'd fallen a little bit in love with Kye.

  Not that I knew what loving a guy felt like. But if it was this hollow, tummy-tumbling feeling I constantly had whether I was with him or not, and the amazing warm feeling of being safe and cherished whenever I was with him, then yeah, I think I loved him, just a tad. Because falling any more than that? Lunacy.

  I didn't want to head back to Denver with a broken heart.

  I tried to ignore the tiny voice inside my head that insisted 'what if it was too late?'

  Shadows clouded Kye's eyes and he released my chin. I knew what he was thinking. He'd opened up to me and told me so much of his past, and I couldn't answer a simple question.

  "I don't date much because I'm not good with emotions," I said, wondering if it sounded as weak to his ears as it did to mine. "The only guy I've ever loved is my dad. How pathetic is that?"

  Tenderness eased the slight frown between his brows. "I think it's kinda cute."

  "Cute when I was six and he bought me a toy unicorn. Or when I was eight and he surprised me at Christmas with a pony. But when I'm in my early twenties and my dad is still the number one guy in my life? Not so much."

  I huffed out a breath, hoping he couldn't hear the wistfulness in my voice. "The thing is, I didn't see my dad all that much growing up and while I know he loves me, I feel like … like I can't rely on anyone."

  There, I'd said it, voiced my number one fear when it came to relationships, even familial ones: that I couldn't depend on anyone but myself.

  "Know what you mean," he said, eyeing me with newfound respect. "The only person I've ever counted on is me. Easier that way."

  I nodded, stunned that we'd found more common ground, when I'd expected him to look at me like I was a freak for feeling alone despite having my dad raise me. "I've made a few good friends at DU, but no one like Dani, who I've grown up with. So apart from her and Dad, I'm a pretty closed off person."

  "I don't agree." He snagged one of my hands and lifted it to his lips, brushing soft kisses across my knuckles. "You're cautious, there's a difference." His teeth nipped the base of my thumb and I bit back a groan. "And I'd say you carefully weigh decisions and generally make good choices, but you're hanging out with me, so there goes that theory."

  I smiled and reached up to cup his cheek. "What we're doing now? Talking like this? Means a lot to me."

  Which was better than what I really wanted to say: means more to me than you could possibly know.

  Because that was way too close to the truth. A truth that would ensure he'd keep his distance for the remainder of my vacation if he ever found out. And he wouldn't. Not from me. There was soul-baring and there was soul-baring. I'd shared enough with Kye. I'd take my secret—and my broken heart—back to Denver when the time came.

  "Means a lot to me too, babe." He hauled me into his arms and squeezed so hard I could hardly breathe. "Being with you is the smartest thing I've done in a long time."

  As he held me tight, I wasn't feeling so smart. In fact, with my feelings for Kye in turmoil, and already dreading our parting when I headed back to DU, I knew I was a dummy for falling in love with my vacation fling.

  #

  It was official. I was a love-struck schmuck, as I rolled over in bed and pressed my face into the pillow that still had a trace of Kye on it. Masculine and fresh and spicy, I inhaled deeply, my receptors already pining for him, despite the fact he'd only left ten minutes ago.

  We'd been cutting it fine, waiting until dawn for him to head back to his villa, but he'd seemed reluctant to leave and I hadn't wanted him to. If it were up to me, we'd be strutting around the academy hand in hand, proud of our relationship.

  But my dad would throw a hissy fit and no way would I put Kye's future on the line. Rolling onto my back and covering my face with Kye's pillow, I ignored the insistent inner voice that said I already had.

  We were playing with fire, I knew that. But I was greedy. I wanted as much of Kye as I could get before we parted and if he was willing to take the risk dating me, no way in hell I'd say no.

  Selfish? Absolutely. He could lose everything while I’d come out of this relationship unscathed. But I'd be damned if I stopped seeing the first guy I’d truly fallen for. Because this skin-tingling, belly-warming, heart-aching feeling? Was addictive. I wanted more—hell, I wanted it all—for as long as I could get it.

  A discreet knock sounded at the door and I leaped out of bed, hoping it was Kye but knowing he'd never risk coming here in daylight.

  I quickly pulled on a T-shirt and cotton boxers before opening the door, to find Dani glowering at me.

  "Hey, sweetie, what's up?"


  "You tell me." She pushed past me without waiting to be invited in and I sighed as I closed the door. I loved my BFF but after the incredible date night I'd had with Kye, I wanted to savor the high, not deal with whatever was Dani's drama of the day.

  "Want some OJ—"

  "You stood me up last night." Dani swung around so fast I almost slammed into her chest. "Not cool, babe."

  "What are you talking about? We didn't have plans …" I trailed off, belatedly remembering she'd mentioned something about heading into LA when we'd been at the tournament. "Not concrete plans, that is."

  Dani's eyes narrowed. "Don't you check your cell anymore? Because I texted you. Five times." She held up a hand, fingers spread. "I don't text my boyfriends that many times for the duration of our relationship, in case you were wondering."

  "You have boyfriends?" I tried to lighten the mood, to make her laugh like she usually would when I teased her about the many guys on her speed dial, guys who were fuck buddies and little else.

  To my surprise, she shot me a venomous glare that made me take a step back. "I don't appreciate being blown off for some prick you won't see any more in a few weeks."

  I rarely lost my temper. But having Dani barge in here, effectively wrecking my post-date glow and flinging around her opinions, sparked my anger.

  "What's it to you?" I unclenched my fingers when I realized I'd inadvertently made fists and my fingernails were digging into my palms. "I don't interfere in your relationships and I'd appreciate the same courtesy from you."

  My emphasis on relationships was a direct dig at her lack of them and she knew it. "Besides, it's what you did to me for years. Choosing some loser to spend the evening with instead of me. Ditching our plans. Being selfish. Not giving a damn about anyone but yourself." The resentment I'd quashed during our teen years spilled out in a torrent that shocked us both.

  Dani and I didn't fight. We'd grown up together and she'd been the sibling I never had. But she'd just pushed my buttons in a big way and I felt sick to my stomach that I'd revealed too much. Especially when I saw the sheen of tears in her eyes.