Page 14 of Crossing the Line

“Yeah, it’s on Saturday at the resort.”

“So… you’re going to be on the island for another three days?”

There was a gleam in his eyes that made me feel a little lighter than I had since I took my walk of shame out of Damien’s hotel room. I found myself matching his smile.

“Yes, I will. In fact, I go home Sunday.”

I sensed Leanne approaching behind me, but Henry’s gaze didn’t shift away from me.

“Maybe we could meet for dinner or drinks one of the nights you’re here,” Henry suggested, his directness surprising me.

“Oh, I don’t know if I’ll have time…” I started, but Leanne interrupted me.

“You’ll have time,” she said brightly. “I’m the bride, so I’d know. You can definitely at least have a drink together.”

I knew she was just trying to help, and I told myself it wasn’t fair to be annoyed by her meddling. She didn’t know that I was nursing some serious heartbreak. She didn’t even know that I’d slept with Damien at all.

“Can I get your number?” Henry asked. “No pressure if you can’t find time to meet up, but just in case?”

I hesitated for just a moment before deciding that it couldn’t hurt to exchange numbers. I wasn’t promising him anything, but at least he wanted me. I appreciated that, even if it didn’t truly mean anything.

We left the market to catch the shuttle back to the resort. The rest of the wedding party was probably already on the beach, waiting for us. Dread settled low in my stomach at the thought of seeing Damien again—shirtless under the bright sun with the ocean breeze tugging at his hair. I still wanted him. And this afternoon was going to be torture.

Chapter Seven: Damien

I’d always loved the beach. Growing up in Chicago, I spent plenty of time on the sandy beaches of Lake Michigan as a kid, running among the dunes and swimming in the freshwater. There, the water was a deeper blue. The water in front of me now was a vibrant, turquoise color. It was warm as it rushed over my feet where I stood at the shore.

“Hey, who is that?” Jake asked from beside me.

I turned my head to follow his gaze further down the beach. There were a lot of people milling around, but I was pretty sure he was looking where a familiar woman stood with pink-streaked hair. “That’s Heather. Her twin sister is one of the bridesmaids.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “I know that. I’m talking about the man with her. He looks familiar.”

I squinted my eyes as I studied the man standing in the sand with Heather. He was tall enough to tower over her, and she had to tilt her head back to look up into his face. Now that Jake mentioned it, he did look familiar…

“Is that Grey Lynch?” Ryan asked, walking up to us and joining in our open staring.

“The football player?” Jake asked.

I nodded. “Technically, he’s a former football player. He retired at thirty-five but five years later, he started coaching.”

“The man‘s impressive,” Ryan said. “He broke the record for most rushing yards when he was a rookie quarterback. And as a coach, his team almost went to the Super Bowl last year. Year before that, he was the NFL Coach of the Year,” Ryan said.

Jake cut him a sharp look. “You write his biography or something?”

Ryan socked him in the arm. “I’m a fan. I wonder what he’s doing here?”

“Vacationing, I’m sure,” I said. “What I’m wondering is how he knows Heather?”

She lived in Chicago like the rest of us, but I knew that Grey Lynch coached for the Bobcats in Louisville, Kentucky. He was also significantly older than Heather. It seemed unlikely that they’d met before.

As we watched, Heather laughed at something Grey said, playfully slapping his arm. He grinned at her, and Ryan made a small sound of disbelief.

“Are we sure that’s Grey Lynch?” Ryan asked. “I’ve always heard he’s a complete asshole.”

I chuckled. “I think the team’s PR person prefers to say he has a ‘direct communication style.’”

“So… asshole.”