Page 37 of Crossing the Line

“Kelsie. Tell me what she’s talking about,” he demanded.

I suddenly felt like I couldn’t pull in enough oxygen. No matter what had happened between us the last few days, I never wanted to hurt Damien, but I could see that keeping this secret from him had done just that.

“I was offered a job running a youth program in Minneapolis,” I said. “A headhunter contacted me out of the blue about two weeks ago. I didn’t go looking for the job. But… I did tell her I’d consider it.”

Demian pulled in a deep, shaky breath.

“Two weeks ago? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Because I’m in love with you, and I was afraid you’d break my heart by telling me to go.

Damien was supportive and thoughtful. Those were two qualities that I loved most about him, but they’d also most likely lead to him encouraging me to take the new job with a more impressive title and salary, even if it took me away from him.

At least, that was what I was afraid of. I always dreamed that Damien would love me back, but I knew now that I was uncertain about his feelings and afraid of getting hurt. That was why I’d never told him how I felt all this time. I spent two years falling in love with him and hoping that he felt the same but too damn scared to put myself out there and ask. That was why it took a drunken night to get us in bed the first time and it was why I hid the job offer from him.

I didn’t tell anyone, really. My mom only knew about it because she was there when I received the phone call. Because I wasn’t planning to take it, even when I agreed that I’d consider the offer. I didn’t want to leave Chicago. I didn’t want to leave Damien.

Now, I wasn’t so sure. Maybe I needed a fresh start. I meant what I said about trying to stay friends, but what if it was too hard? What if I could never get over my crush and find happiness while I was around him all the time?

“I didn’t want to say anything until I’d made a decision,” I said, shrugging one shoulder like it wasn’t a big deal. “I’m probably not going to take it anyway.”

“But you’re considering it.” His eyes begged me to say no, and the twisted part was that I wanted to. Despite everything, I still wanted to give this man anything he wanted, including my heart on a silver platter.

Not that he wanted that…

“I’m weighing my options,” I said carefully. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you know what I decide soon. I’m supposed to let the headhunter know my decision by the end of next week.”

Turning my attention back to my mom, I changed the subject, and the chatter between us was light and easy through the dessert course. But Damien barely spoke another word.

When the party broke up, I wasn’t even surprised that he lingered at the table, even though he’d long since finished his cheesecake. He waited until I was ready to leave before he got up as well.

“I’d like to come to your room and talk to you about this job offer,” he said. There was urgency in his voice that was almost cute. As if he was worried I’d choose to accept the job sometime in the next hour and he needed to stop me.

“I’m not going back to my room,” I said as I checked my phone to see if Henry had messaged me. Nothing yet, but we weren’t due to meet for another ten minutes. “I have plans.”

“What plans?”

There was that strange, raspy voice again. He sounded upset, but his face was hard to read, like he was keeping his emotions on lockdown. It was disconcerting, considering that I knew him so well that I could usually tell what he was thinking.

“I’m meeting a guy at the resort’s bar.”

“What?” His voice rose to nearly a shout, and the few stragglers still milling around the terrace looked our way with concern. Embarrassment heated my cheeks.

“I have a date,” I hissed, irritated.

I was done with this conversation and didn’t want to be late, so I decided to walk away. I barely made it inside before Damien was in front of me, blocking my path with a storm raging in his eyes.

“You have a date? Seriously, Kelsie? We just fucked this afternoon.”

He was lucky the hallway leading back to the resort lobby was deserted, or I would have been furious at the way he was talking in public. Still, my defenses rose.

“Are you saying that you think I should skip my date just because you gave me an orgasm?”

It was technically two orgasms, but I wasn’t going to bring that up.

“I’m saying that we need to figure out what this is between us.”

“I’ll tell you what it is,” I said, stabbing him in the chest with my pointer finger. “It’s a mistake.”