Page 72 of Crossing Lines

“To achieve all my goals without compromising my morals and what I stand for.”

“That’s admirable.”

After a pause, I take the chance to ask, “Can we hang out tomorrow?”

“You mean at the youth center?”

“I mean just us. We could grab lunch, visit a museum, eat more strawberry shortcake, and maybe have dinner and stargaze.”

“That’s a whole day together.” She leans her head to the side. “Are you asking me out, Kross?”

I touch her hand. “Yeah, I am.”

She eases from me and exhales deeply. “Someone might see us. I’m still in a relationship.”

“With a man who makes you sad. You want to feel happy again, baby?”

“I think…” She clicks her tongue. “You should probably take me home.”

“Is that what you want?”

“No, but it’s the right thing,” she says in a near whisper.

“Wait. You said no.”

“Kross,” she groans.

“Baby girl, if you keep saying my name all horny like that, I’ll hold you hostage in this car and give you multiple orgasms.”

She snaps her head to me. “Kross!”

“I’m just saying.”

“Gosh.” She rests her head against the seat.

“Have lunch with me tomorrow. Don’t say no.”

“Yes,” she murmurs and looks at me. “And…”

“And?” I urge, reaching for her hand again. “Tell me what you want. Focus on the feeling.”

“Um, I want you to bring me home and stay a while.”

“Really?” Now, it’s my voice that’s a near whisper.

“Yes,” she affirms. “Take me home.”

“Okay.”

My heart races with anticipation the entire drive to her apartment. There aren’t any open slots in front, so I slow down a few cars away and kill the engine.

“Davi, be clear with me. If I come in, are we—”

“Shit,” she gasps, staring out the windshield.

I follow her line of sight and spot Jamir’s bitch-ass exiting the Range Rover. He doesn’t look in our direction. He continues to the stairs.

“You want me to leave or stay?” I look at her.

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