Page 40 of Crossing the Line
"Are only impossible if we make them impossible." Harper turned away from the piano, her eyes bright with determination. "Yes, you're my supervisor. Yes, my mother is your friend. Yes, there are professional ethics to consider. But people navigate workplace relationships all the time without destroying their careers."
"Not people in our positions," Carmen said, but her voice lacked conviction.
"Then we'll be the first." Harper moved closer, not quite touching but close enough that Carmen could smell the faint floral scent that had haunted her dreams. "Carmen, I've spent my entire life being safe. I’ve followed all the rules, met every expectation that weighed on me, and have been exactly who everyone needed me to be. Do you know what that's gotten me?"
Carmen shook her head.
"Loneliness," Harper said simply. "A perfect professional reputation and complete emotional isolation. Until I met you."
The words hung between them, honest and vulnerable in ways that made Carmen's protective instincts scream. But underneath the fear was the recognition that Harper wasoffering exactly what Carmen had been desperate for: genuine connection without calculation.
"You want honesty?" Carmen asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Here's honesty. Working with you this week has been torture. Watching you excel in cardiac surgery, seeing your natural instincts, listening to your intelligent questions have all reminded me why I fell in love with medicine in the first place."
Harper's cheeks tinged pink, but she stayed silent.
"And every time you look at me with those eyes that see everything," Carmen continued, "I remember what it felt like to be wanted for who I actually am instead of what I can provide professionally. You make me want things I convinced myself I didn't need."
"What kind of things?"
Carmen stood, closing the distance between them until she could see the gold flecks in Harper's dark eyes. "Partnership. Trust. Someone who sees beauty in the work. Someone who doesn't see my success as something to steal or my vulnerability as weakness to exploit."
"I would never?—"
"I know," Carmen said, and realized she meant it completely. "That's what terrifies me. You're not Claire. You're someone who actually matters, which makes the risk exponentially higher."
Harper caressed Carmen’s cheekbone with the back of her middle and ring fingers. "What if we start small?" Harper asked, her thumb now tracing the line of Carmen's jaw. "What if we stop pretending this doesn't exist and see what happens when we're honest about wanting each other?"
Carmen felt her last defenses crumbling under Harper's touch and the sincerity in her voice. "Your mother will kill us both."
"My mother wants me to be happy," Harper said with a small smile. "She just doesn't know yet that my happiness looks like you."
Carmen stared at Harper's face—serious, hopeful, beautiful in the soft lamplight—and felt the measured control she'd maintained for months dissolve completely. Harper was offering her something she'd thought she'd lost forever: the possibility of being known and chosen anyway.
"This is dangerous," Carmen whispered, but she was already leaning closer.
"The best things usually are," Harper replied, echoing her words from their first night. "Carmen, I'm not asking you to announce our relationship at the next staff meeting. I'm asking you to stop running from what we both know is real."
When Harper leaned in, Carmen didn't retreat. The kiss was soft and questioning, nothing like the passionate encounter that had started everything between them. This was an offering, a promise that they could build something genuine if they were brave enough to try.
Carmen's hands found Harper's waist, pulling her closer as months of loneliness and professional isolation melted away. Harper's lips were warm and familiar, tasting like cherry lip gloss and the future Carmen had been afraid to want.
When they broke apart, Carmen rested her forehead against Harper's, breathing in the scent of her skin and the realization that she was done fighting this.
"We keep this between us," Carmen said, her voice steady despite the way her heart was racing. "Just while we figure out how to navigate the professional complications."
"Agreed," Harper said, her smile radiant. "Though I reserve the right to look at you like I'm completely head over heels for you during surgical procedures."
Carmen laughed, the sound surprising them both. "That's highly unprofessional."
"Good thing I'm sleeping with my supervisor," Harper said with a grin. "I hear she'sveryunderstanding about professional boundaries."
Carmen's response was lost as Harper kissed her again, deeper this time, with the confidence of someone who'd finally stopped pretending she didn't want exactly this. And for the first time in months, Carmen allowed herself to want something without calculating the cost.
Harper's hands tangled in Carmen's hair while Carmen's found the curve of Harper's waist, pulling her closer until their bodies were flush against each other.
"Are you sure?" Carmen whispered against Harper's lips.
"I've never been more sure of anything," Harper replied, her voice rough with want. "Carmen, I need you to know this isn't just physical for me."
