Page 2 of Crossing the Line

Mistake.

That word echoed in my mind, and I didn’t think that I’d ever felt so humiliated in my life. I thought we were finally getting together, that what happened was a step forward. I was such an idiot.

I didn’t know if he expected an answer from me, but I was saved from having to come up with one by someone knocking at the door.

“Damien, you awake?” It was Ryan, the groom-to-be. “The boat leaves in an hour.”

I’d forgotten about the boat excursion that Ryan planned for the guys in the wedding party. It was supposed to be a fun activity to thank them for being in the wedding. Leanne was taking the women to the spa in a couple of days for the same reason.

Damien finally looked at me again, but he placed a finger to his lips to tell me to be quiet as he moved to the door. The layout of the room meant that Ryan wouldn’t be able to see me from the doorway, and the realization that Damien wanted me to be quiet so that his friend wouldn’t know I was here finally allowed me to shake off the shock of his unexpected reaction to what happened between us.

He regretted what happened, didn’t want anyone to know about it. Oh God. I’m a shameful secret.

I listened to the guys talk as I got out of the bed and silently pulled my clothes on. As much as a petty part of me wanted to tell everyone just to spite him, I was too embarrassed by this to go that route. The last thing I wanted was for everyone to know that I slept with him, and he regretted it. My pride could only take so many hits before I fell apart.

I was foolish, and the only saving grace I had was that I didn’t tell Damien how much I’d always loved him before he made it clear that he didn’t feel the same. Still, my chest ached, and I wanted to crawl right out of my skin. He was right; this was a mistake. I made a mistake believing that he wanted more from me.

A huge, stupid, fucking mistake.

I was fully dressed by the time he returned alone, slipping on my sandals. I used every bit of willpower I possessed to wipe my face of all emotion. I couldn’t stand the thought of him seeing how much this hurt. When I met his eyes, he looked uncertain.

“I’m sorry, Kels.” God, I hated that the sound of the nickname that only he used made my stupid heart flutter. “I don’t want this to ruin our friendship. It was just a drunken mistake.”

There was that word again. It hit me like a fist to the gut. But it turned out that he wasn’t done eviscerating me.

“I never would have slept with you if I’d been thinking clearly,” he said, like it was a reasonable excuse for what happened instead of a devastating truth.

“Just forget it ever happened,” I said, grateful that my voice didn’t waver, didn’t betray my feelings. I sounded calm instead of being moments away from bursting into tears.

But I couldn’t look at him for another moment. I had to get the hell out of here. Eyes on the floor, I darted around him, heading for the exit.

“Kelsie, wait,” he said, but I couldn’t. I reached the door and ripped it open.

As I rushed down the hallway, I couldn’t resist looking back to see if he was following. It didn’t surprise me to see that he wasn’t, but it hurt just the same. I managed to hold back my tears until I reached my room, but not a second longer. Slamming the door behind me, I pressed my back against it and slid down to the floor.

Then, I cried. I didn’t know how long I sat there. Time didn’t matter as I fell apart.

Face buried in my hands, I let out all my pain and all of my hope for a romantic relationship with Damien. I had to move on. He wanted to be friends—only friends—and I’d do my best to make that work because I couldn’t imagine my life without him in it.

Platonic friendship was all that I’d ever get from him. That and the memory of last night.

It would have to be enough. I couldn’t make him love me, and if he didn’t want to be with me after sleeping together, I’d just have to accept that it would never happen.

But it hurt so badly that I could barely breathe.

I knew then that the romantic feelings that I had for him had to disappear. I couldn’t let myself feel this way ever again. Somehow, I had to find a way to protect my heart from Damien Hawkins.

He’d never hurt me again.

Chapter Two: Damien

The sunshine was a warm press against my skin, and the salty ocean air ruffled my shoulder-length hair as the boat cut through the water. I was relaxing on a cushioned seat at the bow of the boat, between Jake and Ford, the other two men in the wedding party.

Jake was the brother of the groom-to-be. Even though I’d been friends with Ryan for five years, I didn’t know him well. He didn’t hang out with Ryan much outside of family functions, and they were very different people.

Jake didn’t work a blue-collar job like us. Instead, he was a big executive at some financial institution. He wore three-thousand-dollar suits every day and partied with celebrities. I had the impression that the brothers weren’t close.

But it made sense that Jake would be a groomsman. He was family, after all.