Crossing the Line Read online

  In my mind’s eye, I’ve been analyzing his body language with Lauren. When she clung to his arm earlier, did he look uncomfortable? I’m not sure, though. He didn’t try to take his arm back from her. If he was into me at all, then he would’ve found a way to free himself from her. I think he was just being nice to me before Lauren showed up. Just like in high school.

  “Hey.” Lake hops up onto the stool beside me.

  I jump because I didn’t see her coming. “Hey.”

  Lake curls an arm around my waist. “Get up, sexy lady in red. You’re going to dance.” Her tone is singsong, eyes gleam with excitement and she’s so buzzed. I’m pretty sure she’s had a cocktail or two or three.

  “I don’t dance,” I shout over a peppy song.

  “Everybody dances, Paisley!”

  After more coaxing, I reluctantly slide off my stool and allow Lake to guide me to the dance floor. After all, it’s her party, and it would be rude to say no to a twirl with the future bride.

  When we mark our spot among the other dancing bodies, Lake rolls her arms above her head as she curls her hips toward the floor. Her moves are smooth and graceful. With a raised eyebrow, she encourages me to follow her lead.

  My face is warm as I look around nervously. People are watching me. A lot of them are men. I think it’s because of Treasure’s red dress. I should never have worn it. By Treasure’s standards, the garment is doing its job. She likes to be seen. I, on the other hand, do not. The attention makes me nervous.

  “Come on, Pais. You can do it. Let loose!” Lake says before circling her arms above her head and twirling.

  I release a deep sigh as I shuffle halfheartedly from side to side. It’s not that I can’t dance. I can dance. In junior high, modern dance was one of my extracurricular activities, and I was good at it. The only reason I stopped was because my parents thought that in high school, I should focus more on what was viable for my future—computer programming.

  I pull from my memory bank and start swaying my hips and twirling my arms.

  “That’s it!” Lake exclaims, clapping excitedly.

  Still moving my hips, I blush, embarrassed, into the palm of my hand. I must admit, dancing like this feels so good, so freeing. That’s probably the main reason I’ve been so drawn to Lake as a friend. She knows how to coax me into doing things I would’ve never done on my own. Kind of like my cousin, Treasure, who has been my best friend since she first taught me how to annoy parents by endlessly shaking my rattle.

  “What were you talking about?” Lake grabs both my hands as we twist our hips like a corkscrew toward the floor together. “You’re a fantastic dancer,” she exclaims.

  “I never said I couldn’t dance. I said I don’t dance,” I shout above the music.

  Her head falls back as she laughs. Then she draws me nearer and, with her mouth close to my ear, says, “And oh my God, Hercules has a thing for you.”

  When she pulls back to see my face, I’m confused. “But he has a girlfriend,” I say loudly enough for her to hear over the music but not loud enough to be heard by anyone else.

  “Girlfriend?” She screws her face. “It’s complicated.”

  “Then she’s not his girlfriend?”

  Lake’s eyebrows furrow and then even out. I can tell she’s holding back from telling me the whole story. Then she pulls me close again. “Hercules is hot as sin and rich as hell, and I’ve never seen him show that much interest in any woman since you came along. And that includes Lauren. I’m mean, look at him over there. He can’t take his eyes off of you.”

  I don’t see Hercules at all. “Over where?”

  “Directly over your right shoulder,” Lake says.

  I whip my face around probably a little too fast. And in an instant, my searching eyes connect with his.

  Who’s That Guy?

  PAISLEY GROVE

  No, Hercules isn’t watching me. He’s leering at me while Lauren stands next to him with her lips near his ear. It doesn’t look as if he’s paying attention to whatever she’s saying. He’s zeroed in on me.

  My body responds to our eye contact as I succumb to the sexual trance that his staring puts me in. I’m combing my fingers through my hair as I swivel my hips seductively, picturing myself on Hercules’s cock as my teeth seize my bottom lip. That’s when I realize that he’s chewing on his lip too. I should look away from him, but I can’t. I should release my lower lip, but I can’t do that either. It’s something I do when I’m turned on. His stare turns me on.

  When Lauren slaps him on the shoulder, it’s as if she’s nudging me out of my lustful daze too. Inhaling sharply, I turn away from the couple. What just happened? And what does Lake mean by their relationship being complicated?

  I want to implore Lake to please tell me everything she knows about Hercules and Lauren, but her serious cousin Amy—who’s definitely not having as much fun as the rest of us—is whispering in her ear. After rolling her eyes, Lake spins away from me and follows Amy away from the dance floor. I’m starting to think that Lake and her cousin aren’t cut from the same cloth.

  I find that I prefer dancing to sitting, since the exercise gives me something to do. Fortunately, a guy slides over to dance with me. Shifting my feet from side to side, I tilt my head, recognizing him as the guy who sat next to me at the table when I chose to be a wallflower.

  He leans in, guiding his mouth toward my ear. I incline forward to hear him.

  “So, you do dance,” he says.

  I toss my head back and laugh. I’m tempted to search for Hercules to see how his conversation with Lauren is progressing, but I keep my attention glued to my new dance partner’s face. He’s cute. If Hercules wasn’t in the vicinity, I would be thrilled that this sexy stranger had chosen to pursue me.

  The guy bends toward me again, and his warm minty breath drifts across my face when he says, “I’m Clive.”

  I move closer so he can hear me over the music. “I’m Paisley.” Not only does Clive’s breath smell delicious, but so does the rest of him. His cologne is citrusy with hints of sandalwood and vanilla.

  Inclining my ear more toward Clive to hear him better as he tells me how good of a dancer I am, I catch a glimpse of Hercules. Arms crossed and stance wide, Hercules glares at us like he hates the world. I quickly look away from him, choosing to do the wise thing by pinning my attention back on Clive, who I suspect is single and a man whose family isn’t feuding with mine.

  Good choice, Paisley.

  He’s a good choice.

  While dancing, Clive often leans in to ask me loads of questions. He likes being close. Although I’ve decided to forget Hercules, I can feel his eyes on us. It has taken a lot of willpower not to test my supposition and turn to see if I’m right.

  “What do you do on the weekends?” Clive asks, his breath once again warming my ear.

  “Not much. Work.”

  “That’s no fun,” he remarks.

  There’s no need to tell him that I’m the poster child for no fun.

  He asks me something else. With each question, he gets closer and closer. When he steps back to shuffle from side to side, I take a good look at him. Clive is classically handsome. His hair is dark and has a windswept appearance like Hercules’s. His chin is square, and he has sexy dimples that are more pronounced when he smiles, also like Hercules. But Hercules is an inch or two taller than Clive. Essentially, if it were just his looks that drew me so strongly to Hercules, then Clive and I could skip off into the sunset. But it’s not his looks that attract me. It’s his essence. It’s everything he exudes. I can’t believe I ran into him tonight. Seeing him makes everything I ever felt for him come back stronger than when we were kids. I thought over time those feelings were supposed to diminish. Apparently, not in my case.

  The song ends just as Clive says, “We should go out sometime. I’d like to get to know you better.”

  Hot and sweating from dancing, I fan myself with my hand. I decide that I’m not in the market for a
new boyfriend simply because it’s going to take at least a week or two or three to reset after seeing Hercules. So I put my hand on Clive’s hard chest. Mouth near his earlobe, I say, “Thanks for the dance.”

  He gently takes me by the elbow. “Are you coming back?”

  I force a smile. It would be easy to lie. But I’ve been taught to tell the rot-gut truth, even when the answer could shatter someone’s heart.

  “No,” I say. “But again, thank you.”

  Clive looks shocked. I can tell he’s one of those guys who isn’t used to being turned down. I wish I could give him my number to put him out of his misery, but the last thing I want is to be pestered by a guy I’m just not that into. So I press my lips into a conciliatory smile, put my head down, and walk away from him.

  Amy’s voice blares through the speakers as I slip past partygoers focused on her. She’s repeating the date, time, and address of the first rehearsal dinner before everyone gets too drunk to remember.

  I keep my eyes on the floor as Amy makes an offhand comment about how the open bar was a bad idea and if Lake had known anything about these sorts of parties, she would have toned down the night’s activities.

  “Don’t you people have to work tomorrow?” Amy asks.

  Deathly silence is her response.

  I’m relieved when I make it to the elevators. I take a quick look over my left shoulder. I’m out of sight in the short hallway. As I push the button to go down, I think that I probably should have said goodbye to Hercules.

  But then, maybe not.

  Definitely not.

  I stare, unfocused, at the numbers above the elevator as they climb higher. Lake has reclaimed the microphone from Amy and is encouraging everyone to dance and drink like there’s no tomorrow.

  I chuckle at Lake as I think about how seeing someone makes certain memories return as though they happened only yesterday. When I ran into Hercules at that New Year’s Eve party, I was with my roommate Eden, the younger sister of my cousin Treasure’s friend. Being a Grove meant I could afford an Emerald Suite at AIT University and be all by myself. But Treasure insisted I take in a roommate, convinced that if I didn’t, I’d end up being the loneliest girl on campus.

  I hate to say it, but Treasure might have been right. Eden never let me sit around and be bored for too long. And she certainly wasn’t going to allow me to sit at home, binge on ice cream, and watch New Year’s Eve celebrations from coast to coast play out on TV. So she dragged me to a party near Harvard’s campus. And there, while I was ordering a Coke at the bar, I found myself standing next to Hercules Lord.

  Hercules and I admired each other back then just as we did tonight. I was wearing a black dress that belonged to Eden. It was so short that I had to constantly tug the hem down when I walked to keep my crotch and rear covered. I was miserable in that dress until Hercules’s lustful gaze passed over me twice.

  We looked into each other’s eyes and smiled, and he said—just as he did tonight—“PG.”

  Hercules and I have natural chemistry. There’s no denying that. However, there’s also no denying that it would be difficult for us to have a normal boyfriend-girlfriend relationship. My family might disown me if we did. He would probably be disowned by his family too. Even though the hate is preposterous, it is real.

  I yawn into my hand as the elevator arrives and the doors slide open. As I enter and search for the L button, I dream of falling into bed. I’m exhausted. I had more fun than I’d planned by dancing with Lake and then Clive. I probably shouldn’t have ditched Clive the way that I did. Pressing the lit L button, I feel bad about that. He was such a nice guy. I expel a slow and comforting sigh as I lean against the wall.

  Before the doors can finish closing, they slide open again. Leaning against the steel frame of the elevator, displaying the grin that should be trademarked, Hercules Lord asks, “Leaving early?”

  A Walk to Remember

  PAISLEY GROVE

  I pick my chin up off the floor, swallow the extra moisture pouring into my mouth, and breathlessly say, “Um, yeah.”

  For some reason, I feel as if I owe him an explanation. My mind lists all the reasons why I’m leaving way before the party’s over, but I’m too tongue-tied to say any of them.

  “Can I join you?” Hercules asks, his lips quirked up into an enticing smirk.

  He steps into the car before I’m able to answer. Then, eyebrows raised, he raises the tip of his finger and lets it hover over the L button. He’s waiting.

  “Sure,” I reply in a nervous, high-pitched voice.

  His strong finger smashes the button. I’m reeling on the inside and hoping that it doesn’t show on the outside as we drop down to the lobby. Silence hangs between us like forbidden fruit. I think he, too, is wondering who’s going to speak first.

  I so badly want to ask him to explain his relationship with Lauren. But it’s clear they’re a couple. So instead, I ask, “Getting some fresh air?” Because for certain Hercules Lord isn’t leaving his girlfriend alone at a party to pursue me. I never thought he’d grow up to be the kind of guy who’d do that.

  His appealing smirk hasn’t gone anywhere. “Is that what we’re doing?”

  Huh? My eyebrows flash up. “I’m going home. But…” Out of curiosity, I tilt my head. “Are you insinuating that you’re following me?”

  “Yes, I am,” he smoothly says.

  I jerk my head back. “But you’re not leaving without your date.”

  Amusement shows in his glistening eyes as they skip around my face. “Was that a question?”

  Great. He’s flirting.

  I cock an eyebrow. My heart feels like it’s in my throat. “That was a statement.”

  Hercules shoves his hands into the pockets of his black dress pants. They fit him so well that I have to avoid peeking at his package when he says, “Lauren will be fine.”

  “But she’s your date.”

  He shrugs indifferently. “It’s complicated.”

  “What’s complicated about it?”

  Smiling at the down-counting numbers, Hercules nods. “Ah… I remember that about you.”

  I frown, confused. “Remember what?”

  “You’re direct, PG. I’ve always liked it. When you talk, you never leave a guy guessing. But first, I gotta get you to talk.”

  I ponder his observation about me as the elevator comes to a stop and then opens.

  Not once losing the charm in his smile, Hercules shoots out an arm and points his head toward the lobby. “Ladies first.”

  We stand in the lobby, facing each other. Maybe he’s just as confused as I am about how to proceed.

  Leaning forward and then tilting his head—one sexy gesture—Hercules asks, “So, where do you live?”

  “Not that far away,” I say breathlessly. Damn. I answered too quickly. His nearness has spiraled me into sensory overload. I’ve lost control of my emotions and reason.

  “Really?” He sounds very surprised. “Me neither.”

  “You live in this neighborhood?” I ask in a high-pitched voice.

  His flirtatious smirk doesn’t waver as he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his nice-fitting pants. “Yes, I do. And I’m not surprised. I seem to find you wherever I land. Boston or New York, all roads lead back to you, PG.”

  Breathe, I remind myself as I think back to our encounter in Boston. Also, I can’t believe he just said what he said to me. Is he flirting? There’s no way he’s flirting. A gorgeous and strapping man like Hercules Valentine doesn’t end up with a confused nerd like me.

  “Yeah,” I breathe, casting my attention to the black-and-white medallion-marbled floors and trace the circular pattern with my eyes. I want to insist that he goes back upstairs and enjoy the party with his beautiful date.

  “Listen, PG,” he says, regaining my full attention. He closes just about all the distance between us. “I’ve been wanting to say something about that night in Boston.”

  My lips part as I fight the urge to be f
lippant and say don’t worry about it, what we did was no big deal. But the night was a big deal for me, a very big deal. I know discussing it with Hercules will bring me some peace about what happened between us.

  “Yeah, I guess, we should talk about it,” I whisper, feeling my face warm. Damn it, I bet my skin looks all patchy. He can tell that he’s making me nervous. I hate that.

  Hercules’s eyes narrow just a touch as his gaze washes over me. I’m under his spell and I shouldn’t be. I need to keep my wits about me. There are too many mysterious elements surrounding him, his relationship with Lauren being the biggest.

  “Are you walking home?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I say in a strained voice. I clear my throat. “I mean, yes.” That was better.

  Leaning in, he asks, “May I escort you, then?”

  I glance nervously over my shoulder, catching a glimpse pf our images in the mirrored walls between the elevators. “But what about Lauren?”

  “She’s not my girlfriend, PG. Relax.”

  I grimace. “But she’s your date, isn’t she?”

  “No. Not really.”

  “Not really?”

  Hercules sighs as if he’s being emotionally drained by our back-and-forth. But I cross my arms, refusing to leave with him if he doesn’t stop being dodgy about Lauren.

  “She’s my cousin,” he says.

  I jerk my head back in shock. “Oh,” I say, relieved. Why was that so hard to admit? Then I think about the way she stuck to him as if she were metal and he, a magnet. “Kissing cousins?”

  Hercules snickers at my probing joke, and puts a hand on my back, guiding me to the drum of the revolving doors. “There’s never been kissing or anything sexual between us. Now, let’s walk. Get some fresh air.”