Page 4 of Cross the Line
It doesn’t feel weird at first. He’s just Ryker being impatient and wanting everything his way. Then, his fingers trail down the side of my face…
Although I don’t want to hurt him, I pull away.
He’s obviously not thinking straight.
“Can I ask you a question?” He looks up at me with trepidation. Without waiting for my reply, he says, “I know you’re into girls, but have you ever thought about kissing a guy?”
Caught off guard, I don’t know what to say or reply. I simply shake my head, inching back some more.
“Like, never? You’ve never wondered what kissing a guy is like? If it feels different? Maybe better?”
With his eyes latched onto mine, it’s hard to shield my vehemence. “No.”
“Really?” Ryker licks his lips, slipping off the vanity and stepping uncomfortably close.
Ryker tilts his head to the side, shifting nearer. I can feel his breath on my face.
“Ryker… What are you doing?” I ask, taking another step back, that he chases until I’m backed into the bathroom wall.
My heart is pounding into my ribs as I debate what to do. How to get myself out of this without coming across as a bigot. There are enough of those around us.
Licking his lips again, he reiterates, “You’ve never been just a little bit curious?”
“No,” I reply quickly, hoping that it stops whatever this is.
The grin on Ryker’s face sets me on edge as he pulls back with a laugh. “Relax, man,” he says, sauntering out of the bathroom. “Oh my God, you should see your face, dude… I’m fucking with you, Elijah.”
Maybe. But it doesn’t feel like it.
These aren’t the kind of games Ryker plays.
Something is off, and I don’t know what it is. Only that the sneakingsuspicion is sitting heavier and heavier in my gut, coiling tighter around my chest.
“Come on, we can’t be late,” he calls, holding up a big, clear bottle of liquor by its long neck.
Where did he even get that? This isn’t smart.
“Ryker, we’re not supposed to have liquor. We could get kicked off the team.”
This is my only chance to get out of Havenview. If it works out, I can get Finley out, too.
We won’t have to dream about freedom or pretend that we’re birds anymore. We can be ourselves.
“Stop being a wimp and relax, okay? We’ll have a couple drinks and then leave. The guys will see that we’re like them. That we’re cool.” On the way out, Ryker picks up the two glasses from the beverage tray. “Two drinks and we’re out.”
Two drinks and we’re out.
Don’t overthink it. Be cool.
CHAPTER 1
FINLEY
Coffee has never tasted so good. It’s never been as needed as it is today, either. My head is hazy from last night—the loud music, the late hours—and my body still isn’t used to drinking liquor. There’s a cotton dryness in my mouth that has me gulping the scorching liquid before mine and Christina’s breakfast arrives.
Burn me awake, please.
We’re at a little spot in Beverly Hills, a French patisserie–meets–German bakery. Everything at Frei Étoile looks incredible, from the food to the industrial-chic decor. The menu is deceptively simple, the kind that makes choosing feel like a test.
