Page 104 of Cross the Line
We stay like that for several more songs until the rhythm changes again and the roar of the crowd in the tent breaks through the magic.
‘I was wondering,’ I say as I step off his feet and onto the smooth stone of the patio, my own heart racing. ‘Should we . . . Should we put a label on this? I mean, you’ve alreadytechnicallycalled me your girlfriend, but still . . .’
And there it is, that famous grin, the one that internet poets have written volumes about.
‘Willow,’ he says, mock-scandalized, eyes wide. ‘Are you asking me to be yourboyfriend?’
Refusing to smile back, I pinch my lips tight. But there’s no hiding how I feel. Not from him.
‘Maybe.’
‘Then I wholeheartedly accept.’
He drops his lips to mine. And, finally, Dev smudges my lipstick.
CHAPTER 32
Dev
My stomach sinks when Willow’s face isn’t the first thing I see the next morning.
I’m alone in bed in the house next door to where she’s staying. It’s like we’re back at home instead of in matching Malibu rentals. The place is so quiet that I can hear the soft sound of crashing waves in the distance, but in another hour or so, the other guests will be up and rattling around. Though, considering how late the reception raged into the night, there’s a strong chance most of them won’t be up until noon.
Less than thrilled to be awake this early, I lie on my back and stare at the ceiling as my thoughts drift back to last night. Willow and I no longer have to keep our relationship a secret from our friends and family, and that thought alone fills me with more joy than I felt even when signing with Mascort yesterday. But I don’t want to take thingstoopublic yet. Not until she’s been working with Reid for a while. That should ensure that she escapes any damage to her reputation, because I don’t want anything overshadowing the career she’s building.
Eventually it’ll come out, of course. And when it does, I’ll be shouting from the rooftops how much I adore that girl.
Still, there’s a gaping pit in my stomach over how the unexpected conversation with Oakley went down. We were wrong to hide from him, I can see that now. But what’s done is done, and all I can do is hope that he’ll find it in his heart to forgive us.
I’d love for that day to come sooner rather than later. If I want that to happen, though, I’ll have to make an effort to repair things. Since he’s going back to Chicago at the end of the week, my timeline is limited, but there’s no way I can let him leave without at least attempting to get our friendship back on track. And since there’s no time like the present . . . I shove back the sheets and haul myself out of bed, determined to get this show on the road.
I pull on a pair of board shorts and tuck my wetsuit under my arm, then head out into the hall. I’m ready to barrel into Oakley’s room and demand he come down to the beach with me, but I stop short when I reach his open door. The bedroom is empty. The bed is made. There’s no sign of him.
I’m hit with a wave of disappointment that’s quickly followed by a surge of panic. Did he leave already? I know he at least came back last night, since I spotted him slinking into his room just as I made it up the stairs. But maybe he woke up even earlier than me, packed up his shit, and got the hell out of here. I wouldn’t blame him if he did.
Sighing, I turn away from the doorway and start for the stairs. I might as well let the waves pummel the anxiety out of me, even if I’d hoped to have company. If Oakley is gone, if he wants space, I can respect that. I’ll refrain from blowing up his phone or stalking him . . . for now. I’ll give him a day, but then there’ll be no escaping me.
The path down to the beach is deserted, and I almost regret not waking Chava or Mark and forcing them to surf with me when I see how perfect the waves are. But when I spot the figure sitting by the edge of the water, I know I made the right choice.
I toss my board down when I reach Oakley and plant my ass on the sand a foot away – close enough that we can talk, but far enough that I can dodge if he swings at me. Just because he didn’t last night doesn’t mean he won’t now without Willow here to protect me.
Neither of us speaks. I’m not sure what to say anyway.I’m sorryfeels useless, and it won’t fix what I did. It doesn’t take back the hurt. And I don’t regret doing anything that led me to where I am with Willow, so what’s the point of saying the words if they’ll just ring hollow?
Oakley doesn’t look at me and I don’t look at him. We watch the waves, respective boards by our sides, but neither of us makes a move for the water. We might end up sitting here all day, but even if we do, it means something that he hasn’t gotten up and walked away from me.
‘I’m still pissed,’ he finally says.
It’s a simple statement but it makes the knife of guilt twist in my gut. ‘I know.’
There’s another long pause before he speaks again. ‘The more I thought about it,’ he goes on, ‘the angrier I got. You had so many opportunities to tell me how you felt about her. She did too. And yet you just . . . didn’t. Then I found out both Mark and Chava knew before me.’ He shakes his head, like he still can’t believe it. ‘Ihatebeing blindsided by shit. If you’d told me right off the bat you were interested in her—’
‘What would you have done if I did?’ I interrupt, though I’m careful not to make it sound too accusatory. Oakley has to know he would have warned me off Willow, just like he did the night of his birthday. ‘What would you have done if I came to you and said, “Hey, man. I’m into your sister. Can I date her?”’
The way Oakley winces tells me everything I need to know. So does the way he dips his head and grips the back of his neck like he’s trying to ward off a headache.
‘Why would I have told you I was interested in her after you straight-up said to never try anything?’ I push on. ‘You made it perfectly clear that you didn’t want me anywhere near her.’
‘I didn’t have a problem with her working for you, did I?’ he shoots back.
