Page 61 of Crossing Lines

“I have feelings for you, too.” He flashes me a grin that’s too charming for his own good and says, “But they’re opposite of what you mentioned.”

My heart hiccups at his indirect admission. “You do?”

“Fucking hell, is it not obvious?”

“It is,” I whisper. Of course it is. I’m pretty sure I know exactly where I stand with him.

“Just to make it crystal clear, I want to be in a relationship with you. And of course we can wait until you feel comfortable to have sex.”

“But there’s so much you don’t know about me.”

“So? Is there a prerequisite that I need to know everything about you before being with you?”

“Maybe there should be,” I say. “It’d save us both a lot of heartache.”

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“If we start a relationship, it’ll need to be a secret. We shouldn’t be photographed together and the fewer people who know about us, the better.”

“Why?”

“Because my mom…. If she ever found out about you, or us.” I shake my head. “Nothing is ever enough for her, especially when it comes to money.”

“I see.”

“Do you?” I ask. “Because I send her money every week. She’d never stop if she knew. I’ve made sure tonever be photographed with Stella or Aria for that reason.”

“I understand. I don’t like it, but I agree to keep things quiet…for now. Thank you for telling me.”

“I thought you’d be running as fast as you could get away from me by now.”

He snorts. “Do you really think I’d scare so easily?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll have to dig deeper into my baggage next time.”

“Bring it on.”

Chapter 15

Evren

Since our kiss in the gym two days ago, Nina and I have spent all our time together when I’m not working. Every night we sleep in Nina’s bed, holding each other and talking. That’s my favorite part of the day, when we get to know each other. Like her dislike of horror movies, or that her favorite color is orange, or the quiet moments where she opens up a little more about her mom.

Her mom who she thinks will make me run for the hills, but what she doesn’t know is that I’ve dealt with worse. Her mom doesn’t scare me, but she scares her.

When I get home from work, I find Nina at her sewing machine, working on what appears to be a throw pillow, and kiss the side of her neck.

“Hi,” she says.

“Do you have a minute? I got the new designs from the apparel team.”

“Of course, show me,” she says.

I hand her the iPad and show her the multiple design directions the team took the feedback in.

“Hmm…” she says, frowning.

“What does ‘hmm’ mean?”

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