Page 9 of Cross the Line
When it’s my turn to face Oakley, I force a smile and let him tug me into his arms, hoping he hasn’t suddenly developed the ability to read minds.
‘It’s good to see you, asshole,’ he says in my ear, thumping me so hard on the back that I swear it knocks my heart out of rhythm. Shit, maybe hedoesknow what I did.
But there’s nothing but warmth in Oakley’s eyes when he pulls back, gripping me by the shoulders. He’s still my best friend. The guy I came up with through karting, attached at the hip all the way to Formula 3. If he hadn’t decided that racing was no longer his dream, I’m sure he would still be with me these days.
In some ways, I’m glad he’s not. I’ve seen friendships destroyed by competition, and most of the drivers I know aren’t particularly close with each other, no more than professional acquaintances. We’re co-workers, really. They aren’t people I’d share my deepest, darkest secrets with. But Oakley? He’s my guy.
Or, well, hewas,until I did the one thing I could never tell him about.
Chava knows my secret though, and he shoots me a knowing glance when Oakley pulls back and shifts to my side, leaving me with an unobstructed view of Willow. Mark’s just hugged her, and now it’s my turn, but I’m having a hard time getting my feet to move.
I don’t know how I manage it, but I’m stepping closer, opening my arms, and folding her into them, all while my brain is still buffering.
The top of her head barely comes to my shoulder, and she’s so slight that I’m surprised again and again by how tight her hugs are. She’s always been delicate in my mind, soft and gentle. But while she mightlookfragile, I’ve seen her killing it in the gym. If she was determined to, the girl could probably bench press me. And she’s always determined.
It isn’t to say she’s unbreakable. Her condition means she’s got a few more limitations than the average person, but underestimating her would be a mistake. She’s stronger than most people think.
I only let the hug linger long enough to inhale her sweet scent and remind myself that my feelings for her are purely platonic, which is why that kiss was inappropriate on so many levels.
At least, that’s what I keep trying to tell myself.
I’m met with a tentative smile as she drops her arms from around my waist, but she’s watching me with those dark eyes, telegraphing a clear message:Don’t make this weird.
Well, she doesn’t have to worry aboutmemaking it weird because it already is. But I won’t give us away, even if that means ignoring her for the rest of the night.
Is that rude? Yeah, for sure, but a man’s gotta do what he can to keep from being murdered by his best friend.
Speaking of the guy, Oakley roughly curls his arm around my neck and asks how the season’s been so far, saving me from having to strike up a conversation with Willow. I have no doubt that he’s been keeping up with my career, which means he knows about my eighth-place finish in Azerbaijan and my DNF in Miami – the high and lowlights so far – so I drop my voice and say, ‘I gotta tell you what really happened with Nathaniel in Italy last week.’ He’ll appreciate the gossip about my teammate, plus I can’t pass up a chance to chat shit about the guy. ‘Spoiler: there was nothing wrong with the car when he crashed.’
I turn my back to Willow as Oakley presses me for the full story. It’s a solid distraction, even though Willow’s melodic laughter floats in the air around us as she talks to Chava and Mark. I do my best to ignore it and press on until Oakley’s practically crying from laughing so hard. I did the same when I heard the truth – Nathaniel puked in his helmet thanks to the stomach bug he promised the team he’d recovered from. The surprise of it caused him to lose control for a split second, leading him to hit the barriers.
Oakley’s still wiping at his eyes when something over my shoulder catches his attention and his smile drops.
‘Shit, my bosses are beckoning,’ he says, lifting a hand to wave at them. ‘Hopefully this won’t take long.’ With that, he turns to his sister. ‘You good here, Wills?’
My back is to her, but I’m far too aware of Willow’s presence behind me. ‘Yeah, totally fine,’ she reassures. ‘Go on.’
Oakley nods and slaps my shoulder. ‘Don’t have too much fun without me.’
As he walks off, I have no choice but to turn back around to face Chava and MarkandWillow. I’m almost tempted to run off and find Howard, but that’s a step too far, no matter how much I’d like to avoid this interaction.
‘So,’ I prompt, glancing between the three of them, wanting to wipe my suddenly slick palms on my tuxedo pants. ‘What’s the—’
‘You know what? I need another drink,’ Chava interrupts, disregarding my attempt to join their conversation. ‘Mark, come with me. We’ll bring drinks back for Willow and Dev so they don’t have to fight through the crowd.’
Mark frowns at his half-full drink, a step behind Chava’s scheming. ‘I don’t need—’
‘Let’sgo.’ Despite the daggers I shoot him, Chava grabs Mark’s bulging bicep and drags him in the direction of the bar.
As much as I want to excuse myself and go talk to literally anyone else, I can’t ignore Willow. Partially because Oakley would yell at me for being mean to his sister, but mostly because the second I look down at her, I once again find myself frozen in place.
I never used to be like this around her. So stilted and tongue-tied and . . .uncomfortable. And it’s not like this is the first time I’ve ever been stuck with her one-on-one. Far from it. When we were kids, it felt like she and I were together more than we weren’t. I wouldn’t have called us friends, but we were a constant presence in each other’s lives.
We would hang out and chat while I waited for Oakley to get ready to go out. We’d sit in my kitchen when my mom made jalebi, scarfing down each fresh batch. We’d throw popcorn at each other when our families went to the movies together. Hell, she once sat with me for hours when I had a concussion and no one else was around to keep an eye on me. Things between us have never been awkward.
Until now.
She’s looking anywhere but at me, both hands clutching her nearly full champagne glass so tight her knuckles have gone pale. Knowing that she feels as weird about this as I do makes me feel a little better, but I need to stop being such a scared little baby and fix this surreal situation.
