Cross the Line (Boston Love Story #2) (5 page)

“No, you don’t.” I shake my head. “You want to text whatever new piece of man candy has caught your attention this week. And that’s fine. But I would rather eat a full serving of my own hair than sit here like an idiot, talking to myself while you do it.”

“Okay, okay! I’m sorry. Look — phone’s going away.” She shoves her cell in her purse, a tiny flicker of regret flashing over her features as she zips it closed, and lifts her eyes to mine. “See? All gone.”

I stare at her fingers, which have begun to tap an anxious beat against the tabletop. “Are you having cellular separation anxiety?”

“It’ll pass.” She swallows a sip of her margarita. “So, Knox finally showed up, huh?”

Lila always calls him Knox. In fact, pretty much everyone on the planet calls him Knox. Except me. To me, he’s always been Nate. Always will be.

I nod. “Yes, but not for any of the reasons I wanted him to. For instance, to declare his undying love for me. Or to dust that really hard-to-reach area above my stove. Oh! Or to move my fridge, so I could clean behind it.” I narrow my eyes. “Come to think of it, I don’t need a relationship at all. I just need a tall man to occasionally lift large objects and help with housework.”

“Men don’t help with housework. Men
say
they’ll help with housework in exchange for sex, but then the stairs end up half-vacuumed and there’s hand soap in the dishwasher and all the windows have paper towel streaks, and you end up having to do it all yourself anyway. Then, after giving him the sex he did
not
earn, you get to spend the rest of your married lives listening to him throw
that one day he vacuumed
in your face every time you accuse him of not pulling his weight.”

My eyebrows lift in amused speculation. Lila’s never been in a relationship in her life.

“Um…” She shrugs, slightly embarrassed by her rant. “That’s what my sisters say, anyway.”

“Right.” I fight a laugh. “Well, Nate didn’t do any of my housework. Nor did he show up outside my door like that guy in
Love Actually
with a sign that says, ‘To me, you are perfect.’ Nor did he apologize or even
pretend
to be civil as he barked orders after ten years of selective mutism.”

“I’m guessing he didn’t pop your cherry, either,” Lila announces loudly, drawing glances from several men at the surrounding tables.

“Could you say that any louder? I don’t think the bartender on the lower level heard you.
Oh!
Maybe I could find you a bullhorn so you can broadcast it to the entire bar…”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. And if it’s really such an issue, there are plenty of men who’d be more than happy to take care of that little problem for you.”

“You mean Steve, the guy who watches Boo and waters my plants when I go away for the weekend?” My nose wrinkles. “He smells like tea tree oil and I think he still lives with his mom.”

I grimace at the thought and take a large sip of my drink.

“No.” She leans in, eyes alight with mischievous thoughts. “I mean Duncan.”

I nearly snort alcohol through my nose. “Your brother?” I choke, trying to catch a breath.

“Maybe.” A coy smile twists Lila’s lips. “He’s asked about you, the last few times we’ve done lunch. And now that he’s moved back from California…”

“I haven’t seen him since he puked in my purse after the Sadie Hawkins dance.”

Her eyes narrow defensively. “Well, he’s grown up. He runs his own company — some kind of social media startup. He’s very successful.”

I force myself not to scoff. Every rich kid with a trust fund has a startup, these days, just for the thrill of calling themselves CEO. Whether they actually do any work in that position…
Debatable
.

“That’s great,” I say, hoping the words don’t sound as lackluster as they feel coming out of my mouth.

“You could do a lot worse, Phoebe. Duncan is wealthy, nice, good-looking, and — unlike that other asshole you’ve set your heart on — he’s
interested
. If you give him a chance, I know you two will hit it off.”

I try not to twitch. Lila has always harbored a cliché fantasy that one day her best friend and her brother will get married, and we’ll all live happily ever after in adjacent mansions on Nantucket with a brood of children.

Let’s just say… it’s a dream I’ve never shared.

In fact… let’s
also
say I’d rather wear perfume scented like the Boston Bruin’s hockey locker room for a straight week than go out on another date with Duncan.

“Maybe,” I murmur noncommittally.

“Wow, Phee, that was
so
enthusiastic.”

“Sorry. It’s just—”

“Knox.” She sighs deeply. “I know.”

“Believe me, I wish it
weren’t
Nate. I wish it were anyone
but
Nate. But he’s like…”

“An STD.” Lila nods sagely.

“What?”

“Irritating. Indisputably linked to your lady parts. Can go years without making an appearance. And ultimately… incurable.”

“Wow. That was beautiful, Lila.”

“I try.” She grins. “So, let me see if I’ve got this straight.” She begins ticking off points on her fingertips as she speaks. “You finally take my advice and go out with another man. Then, like clockwork, Knox shows up at your house. He tells you not to see said man anymore in that scary, intense way of his. And then you kick his butt to the curb. Right?”

I nod.

“If I wasn’t such a good friend, this is the part where I’d scream
I TOLD YOU SO
at the top of my lungs.”

One of these days, I’m going to burn

that fucking field hockey skirt.

Nathaniel Knox, upon returning home from college

and finding his best friend’s sister all grown up.

I blink in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Do I really have to spell it out for you?”

“Apparently.”

“God, it’s like dealing with an Amish girl on her Rumspringa. Starting from square fucking one.” Lila shakes her head and pins me with a steely look. “Phoebe. Honey. He was
jealous
.”

I snort. “No, he wasn’t.”

“He
was
.” She sighs, deeply exasperated. “Why else would he have shown up
that night
? As in, the first night you’ve ever heeded my sage advice and gone out with a hot guy?”

“
Trust
me,” I choke out. “Nate didn’t come over because of some kind of long-buried romantic feelings. Parker probably asked him to check in on me.”

“Oh, my poor, sweet, dim-witted little virgin.” Lila shakes her head. “Have I taught you
nothing
?”

“I don’t follow.” My eyes narrow. “And I may be dim-witted, but you’ve blown a goddamned fuse.”

“He. Was.
Jealous
!” She casts her eyes heavenward. “You’re worse than Amish. Swear to god, I’m living an Anne of Green Fucking Gables episode.
Anne’s First Crush
.”

“Hey!”

“Phee, get with the program. He wants your bod.”

“Did you just say
he wants your bod
?”

Her mouth opens, closes, and opens again. A hint of a blush colors her cheeks. “Maybe.”

“Wasn’t that the slogan of those horrible ’90s commercials for men’s body mist? You know, the kind that smells like testosterone mixed with lighter fluid?”

“BOD spray.” Lila nods. “Or, as I like to call it,
Eau de Jersey Shore
.”

“Eau de Seventh Grade Boy,” I counter.

She giggles. “Eau de Small Penis.”

We both dissolve into laughter. I’m wiping tears from the corner of my eye when Lila’s hands clap together abruptly, startling me. My gaze flies back to hers and I find she’s staring at me, all humor forgotten.

“Hey! Focus! No more tangents.” She leans forward. “We were talking about Knox and your deluded belief that he came over out of some kind of brotherly duty.”

“It’s not deluded; it’s the truth. He came because he thought I was in danger with Brett. Which, it turns out, I was. Have you seen the news? He’s kind of a minor-league sociopath.”

A few days after Nate’s surprise visit, I logged onto the web and was immediately assaulted by news stories about my gala date.

BRETT CROFT ARRESTED IN CONNECTION TO KIDNAPPING

CHARGES BROUGHT AGAINST BILLIONAIRE CROFT HEIR

FAMILY FUED: CROFT COUSIN’S SECRET VENDETTA

Apparently, no matter how much money you have, it’s still not enough to bury kidnapping and attempted murder charges. Let’s just say, I was more than relieved that I hadn’t called Brett for a second date.

“But he looks like Ian Somerhalder,” Lila protests. “How can someone so hot be so evil? It’s against the laws of nature.”

“Lila, I don’t care how hot he is. Brett Croft is bad news. He was arrested, like, two days after our first date for basically trying to kill his cousin’s girlfriend, Gemma — who is really freaking nice, by the way. The story’s been in every single newspaper. Which you’d know if you ever bothered to read one.”

“First of all, I follow the news. Sometimes. When forced.” She fights a smile. “And, secondly, you should be excited. Brush with death, and all. It’s like you had dinner with Jeffrey Dahmer and walked away without becoming one of the entrees. You deserve some kind of medal.” Her eyes narrow. “Or at the very least, several sessions with a renowned therapist.”

“Thanks, Lila.” I roll my eyes. “That’s
so
helpful.” 

She cocks her head to one side. “Just because he orchestrated a kidnapping and tried to ruin his cousin’s life doesn’t necessarily mean he’s a sociopath. Maybe he’s just… emotionally damaged and in need of a good woman to straighten him out.”

“Now who’s the dim-witted one? Are you really falling for the damaged bad-boy trope?”

“You know I have a weakness for pretty boys with secret pain.”

“Lila!”

“Shhh.” She sips her margarita and examines me like a lab specimen. “This is the part where I dispense more sage wisdom.”

“Honestly, I think I’ve had my fill.”

“Too bad.” She rubs her hands together. “You ready?”

“No.”

“Okay, here it comes.” She shuts her eyes and pulls in a deep breath, like she’s about to execute a particularly difficult yoga position. Before I can flee, her eyes snap back open and she turns the full force of her stare on me. Her voice is intent, her glossy brown eyes pin me to the spot.

“You want Nathaniel Knox. You’ve wanted him for as long as I can remember. True or false?”

I don’t answer.

“
True or false?
”

“You’re really going to make me say it?”

Her eyes narrow.

“Fine,” I mumble noncommittally. “True. Whatever.”

“That’s what I thought.” She smiles. “You’ve spent the better part of your life either gaga in love with the guy or out-of-your-gourd pissed at him for not loving you back. You can’t get over him. You don’t
want
to get over him. You won’t even
try
to get over him. Frankly, it’s a little pathetic.”

“That’s not true,” I protest. “I want to get over him.”

Lila’s face contorts in a skeptical look. “Uh huh.”

“Lila, I’m serious. I don’t want to keep living like this — stuck in limbo, wanting a man who’ll never love me back. Frankly, I hate him for doing this to me for so long, for reducing me to this weak little girl every time he’s around. He walks back into my life and suddenly I’m fourteen again, gawky and awkward and unsure.” I swallow. “I don’t want to be that person. I’m
not
that person.”

“I know you aren’t, hon.” Lila’s face is suddenly concerned. “Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been feeling like this?”

I shrug. “It makes me feel weak.
He
makes me feel weak. Why would I want to talk about that? Love is supposed to lift you up, not tear you back to your humiliating, orthodontic middle school years.” I take a large sip. “I hate him. Officially.”

She sighs. “Phoebe, I hate to break this to you, but hating someone and being over them are not the same thing.”

Damn. I knew she was going to say that.

“You either spend all your time thinking about how much you love him, or all your time mulling over how much you hate him. Either way, he takes up all your mental energy. That’s not healthy, hon. When you’re over someone, you don’t think about them.
Period
. Like my first boyfriend, Eric Sanders, who turned out to be gay and broke my heart in seventh grade. I don’t think about him at all. And my second boyfriend, Bill Nelson—”

“Lila! Please get to the point.”

“Fine,
jeeze
, I didn’t realize I was out for drinks with Grumpy Cat,” she mutters. “My point is… It’s time you either stop obsessing over him altogether and move the hell on with your life… or stop waiting around for him to wake the fuck up and realize he wants you too.”

Images of sodden boob-stuffing and puke-filled purses flash through my mind.

“Because trying to get his attention has gone
so
well for me, in the past.”

“Oh, come on. You haven’t really tried anything for
years
. You’ve been too pissed off and he’s been god knows where, doing that freaky Blackwater shit he’s so good at.” She swirls her margarita glass. “He moved back here permanently over a year ago and you’ve seen him, what?
Once
in all that time?”

“Twice.”

“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes. “Frankly, this whole pining-from-afar,
I-hate-your-guts-but-I’d-like-to-ride-your-face
thing you’ve got going is
not
working for you.”

“That was… visual.”

“Bottom line: what if Brett
had
gone psycho and killed you? What if you’d died without laying everything on the line, without looking Knox in the eyes and just saying, flat out,
I want you, I’ve always wanted you. Please do naughty things to me, ASAP.”

My eyebrows lift.

“Okay, maybe not those exact words.” She sighs. “But seriously, honey — something’s gotta give. And, in this case… it’s you. Either give
in
to your passion or give
up
on him altogether. But don’t keep doing this to yourself. You deserve someone who’s capable of loving you back. And, if I’m being totally honest… I don’t think Knox will ever be that guy for you. He’s too damaged, too dark. The look in his eyes…” She shudders. “It gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

“The
heebie-jeebies
? What are you, five years old?”

She continues, unfazed. “Looking at him is like staring down a well. Nothing on the surface, but a hell of a lot of scary shit hiding underneath.”

I know what she means — I’ve always thought of Nate’s eyes as a black hole.

Dark, bottomless, and likely to swallow you up if you lean too close.

“I thought you had a thing for pretty boys with secret pain,” I say teasingly, trying to make her laugh.

“He’s not pretty — he’s
haunted
.” Her eyes find mine, deadly serious. “And his pain isn’t secret, honey. It’s brimming over.”

I swallow hard, unable to contradict her words.

“Phee, be honest with me for a second. Do you really think a man like that — a man who’s never loved a goddamn thing in his life except maybe the sound of gunfire and the spilling of his enemies’ blood — is capable of a functional relationship? Of being a husband? A father?” Lila shakes her head. “I’m sorry, honey, I just don’t see it. The only things Knox will ever be able to give you are the greatest orgasms of your life… and a big, fat crack through the middle of your heart when he walks away. You deserve more than that. More than
him
. And I love you too much to sit by the sidelines and watch him destroy you.”

I stare at her, heart pounding painfully in my chest. Lila’s never been Nate’s biggest fan, but she’s not usually so vocal about her dislike. She means well, but that doesn’t make it less painful to hear.

Sad as it is to admit, I don’t have an answer to her questions. I don’t know if Nate could ever give me more than physical gratification. For as long as I’ve known him, he’s never been in a relationship. Never expressed any interest in one. I don’t know if normal things like marriage, or houses with white picket fences, or squirmy babies with chubby little fingers, will ever be a factor in his future.

“I just want you to be happy, Phee.” Lila grabs my hand and squeezes. “And I don’t think that’s ever going to happen until you move on from that intense bastard. Even if you don’t want to.”

“I do want to.” I clear my throat lightly. “I’m done being this pathetic girl obsessed with a man she can never have. I do want to move on. I do want a normal life with someone who can love me back. I’m over him. Or… I
want
to be over him. So bad. I just…” My voice wavers and I take a deep breath to steady it. “I don’t know how. How do you stop wanting someone you’ve dreamed of for most of your life? He’s a habit I don’t know how to break.”

“Are you sure you’re ready to give up on him?”

“Yes,” I lie, wishing the words felt as convincing in my mind as they did leaving my mouth. “I’m done waiting for Nathaniel Knox to love me back. It’s time I focused on loving myself, instead.”

***

Two rounds later, we’ve cooked up a plan to help me get over Nate. And by
we
I mostly mean Lila.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” I say for the tenth time, my words a bit slurred.

“You agreed!” Lila protests. “You can’t back out now.”

It’s true — I had agreed. But what seemed like a good idea forty minutes ago feels a touch too real, now that I’ve agreed to it. Lila had sounded so convincing…

I replay our conversation in my mind as we wait for the bill.

She leans across the table and speaks in a hushed voice. “I’ll tell you from experience, dating a million other dudes to forget about him isn’t going to work, not after all this time… he’s embedded too deeply to be pushed out of your heart with only the force of another man’s penis.”

“Ew!”

“There
is
a way to get over him.” Her head tilts as she stares at me, a contemplative expression on her face. “But you won’t like it.”