Page 8 of Crossing the Line
"I'd like that," Harper heard herself say. "Very much."
Carmen's smile was worth every lie Harper had told to get here. Radiant, genuine, and touched with relief as if she'd been half-expecting rejection.
"Good," Carmen said, standing and offering her hand. "Let's get out of here."
Harper took the offered hand, feeling the warmth of Carmen's skin against hers, and let herself be led toward the purple door. Behind them, Lavender was wiping down glasses, her knowing smile following them out into the night.
As they stepped onto the cobblestone street, Harper felt the weight of choice settling around her shoulders. She was crossing a line here, entering territory where the consequences of her lies would become real, immediate, and potentially devastating.
But Carmen's hand was warm in hers, and for the first time in her adult life, Harper felt like the protagonist of her own story instead of a supporting character in someone else's.
She squeezed Carmen's fingers and followed her into the fog-wrapped night, leaving conscience and consequence behind on Lavender's doorstep.
3
CARMEN
Carmen's hand hovered over her car keys, and for a moment, her analytical mind reasserted itself with crystalline clarity. She was about to invite a stranger—a woman she'd only known for three hours—back to her townhouse. The same townhouse where she'd never brought anyone who wasn't either a colleague discussing surgical procedures or Julia complaining about her dating life.
This was insane, reckless, and completely contrary to every principle of control she'd built her life around.
"Second thoughts?" Hailey asked with no judgment in her voice, just genuine curiosity.
Carmen looked at her, really looked. Hailey stood beside her car in the soft glow of the streetlight, patient and undemanding. She wasn't pushing or presuming, just waiting for Carmen to decide what she wanted. When was the last time someone had given her that kind of space to choose?
"No," Carmen said, surprising herself with the certainty in her voice. "No second thoughts."
The lie came easily. She was having third, fourth, and fifth thoughts, but underneath the analytical overthinking wassomething stronger: hunger. Not just physical, though that was certainly there, but a deeper craving for connection that she'd been systematically starving for months.
Carmen unlocked her BMW and watched Hailey slide into the passenger seat with grace. The interior felt smaller with another person in it, intimate in a way that made her hyperaware of every breath and movement. Hailey's presence filled the space without overwhelming it. She was confident and curious without being presumptuous or intrusive.
"Nice car," Hailey said, running her fingers along the leather seat. "Very...you."
"You've known me for three hours. How can you possibly know what's 'very me'?"
Hailey's smile was visible in the dashboard light. "You’re…precise. Controlled. Beautiful but not showy. You value quality over flash and pomp."
The assessment was disturbingly accurate, but she didn’t want to admit that. Carmen pulled out of the parking space, using the familiar motions of driving to steady herself. Phoenix Ridge's streets were quiet at this hour, fog rolling in from the harbor to soften the edges of streetlights and building corners.
"Where are we going?" Hailey asked.
"Harbor district. I have a townhouse near the medical center."
Of course she did. Even her choice of neighborhood was predictable—close to work, in a professional area with other doctors and lawyers.
Safe and sensible, but also boring.
They drove in comfortable silence for several blocks, the city's nighttime personality revealing itself around them. Late-night diners spilled onto the street from restaurants and couples walked hand in hand along the sidewalks. Carmen found herself stealing glances at Hailey's profile, memorizing the curve of herjaw and the way she seemed completely at ease despite not knowing where they were going.
"Tell me something about yourself that I wouldn't guess," Carmen said, surprising herself again. She didn't usually fish for personal information. It felt too much like opening doors she might not be able to close.
"I'm terrified of butterflies," Hailey said without hesitation.
Carmen laughed. "Butterflies? Really?"
"Something about the way they move. All erratic and unpredictable. Give me a spider any day."
"That's..." Carmen searched for the right word.
