Blurring the Lines (3 page)

Corinne pushed on one shoulder, and he let her push him until he was on his back.
Corinne’s smile pulled one from him, and there was no haze, no blurring, just the reality of this goddess-like woman now sitting on her knees, naked, smiling at him. She jerked a condom wrapper open. As she rolled it on, the feeling of her hands on him started to shut down his brain. He felt her shift on the bed and her hands pushed down on his chest as she rested a leg on either side of his body.

Chris opened his eyes admiring the curve of her waist, her shoulders, traced his fingers up her stomach, tracing her breasts.
She lowered herself on to him with a soft moan. That one sound was enough to unleash the rest of what he’d been holding in.

She bit his shoulder as he felt the warmth of her, dri
ving him further. He rolled her onto her back, clutching her body to his, determined to make their night last as long as he could.

THREE

Corinne rolled over and stretched her body, jolting awake when she realized she was still without her clothes. And then let her body relax into the puddle it deserved. It had been since her fiancé, John—well over
two
years
. Twenty-four year old women shouldn’t go for two years without sex.

Even still, the previous night wasn’t like her. At all. And her nakedness felt even more alien than when she fell asleep. But it had been worth it. Every
second
of letting go to be with Chris had been worth it.

She rolled over to see Chris’ back, left exposed by the sheets tugging around his waist.
A massive phoenix covered his back in a million shades of red, orange and yellow. From his waist to his upper shoulders, the massive bird took up almost every inch of skin. She slid her finger over the ashes at the bottom, tracing one of the bird’s wings toward his shoulder blade. Her heart thumped a few times as she remembered their night. How every part of him seemed to fit with every part of her. She paused, wondering if she should slide her hand around his waist, scoot in closer and hope for another repeat.

No. Not doing this again. One night.

She slid out of bed before her body convinced her to do otherwise. The windows were shaded to black and she blinked a few times in the darkness as she snatched her clothes from the floor and quickly got dressed. Chris hadn’t moved, and she stepped around the front of his bed to see his face only to find papers strewn across the floor near his nightstand. He must have done that after she dozed off.

She smiled wide knowing that she was part of what helped him write again. And then her chest tightened because she’d been in this position before.

Actually. She hadn’t. Last time she let her heart get involved. This time it was just her body. And it was very happy with her this morning for her indulgence. And today she was leaving for home. Perfect.

Corinne took one more look around his room wondering if in two weeks she’d be squealing over the thought of sleeping with Christian Meyer in his house, or if she was still too tainted by knowing he was just a guy, like half the population.

As she tiptoed down the stairs she wondered how horribly awkward her morning would be, and if she should just leave for the airport early. She flicked down her Facebook messages, since that seemed to be her boss’s favorite way of keeping in touch. Nothing, which was a relief. Not that she could have filled in at the yoga studio since she was in California, but still.

“Oh, hell.
Really
?” Max sighed as she hit the last step and found herself in Chris’ blond and white kitchen.

Corinne’s heart stopped at Max’s raised-brow expression.

Max held his coffee halfway between the counter and his mouth, frozen.

She knew she could sputter out a bunch of excuses, but instead she decided she’d work at playing cool. For the first time last night she’d had sex with a man she barely knew. Surely she could handle Max.

“You live here?” she asked.

Max shook his head and set his coffee down. “You tell me to help you keep your distance, and then…” He gestured loosely with his hand toward the open stairs to the upper level. His tone wasn’t disapproving or irritated, more...teasing?

Corinne shrugged, in hopes she’d be able to play off the night like no big deal. “Just one night, Max. I leave in a few hours. It was my idea. Don’t be too hard on him.”

Max watched her closely for a moment more before his face became more relaxed and he took a long drink of his coffee. “I saw the stack of papers in the studio downstairs. Looks like you two were busy yesterday.”

Corinne leaned against the counter, unsure of where she should be. The main floor of Chris’ house looked decorated, not at all like something he’d do. Sparse like his bedroom, very white, and too modern for her, and she
thought
for him. But it wasn’t like she knew Chris all that well.

“He wrote more last night. Alone.” She shifted her weight again. “My things are downstairs. I’m going to pack up.”

“You brought a small carry-on. You can pack later. Let’s talk.” Max patted the stool next to him. “Chris always has scones from the B and B down the beach in the fridge. Help yourself.”

She wasn’t ready to eat. She was still half in shock to not be at home in Alpine Heights anymore.
Add,
after having sex with Christian Meyer
in his house
, and she felt completely muddled.

“How are you, really?” Max asked. “With your messy life.”

“Some days better than others,” she admitted as she sat, resting her arms on the counter and half wishing she wasn’t sharing her morning with Max.

Max knew her LA story, and had gotten the brief version of what had happened with her since then
because he was the one who continued to find her work writing songs. She didn’t like to look back at her life as a series of tragic events, but there were days when she didn’t know how else to see it.

“How’s Jonah?” Max asked. “He’s got to be like five? Six now?”

She blinked a few times as she thought about him. Wondered how he was doing with her so far away. “Fine. He’s fine. Five. Amazes me daily, actually.”

Chris’ stumbling entrance into the room silenced their conversation.

“Sorry,” Chris mumbled as he rubbed his face and scratched his forehead, making his hair an even bigger mess than before.

Her heart flipped.
Why did that have to be so damn sexy?

Corinne watched his arms flex
underneath his grey t-shirt and the line of his waist as he stretched and second-guessed her decision to crawl out of bed.

Max bumped her leg with his knee giving her a smirk and her cheeks heated up.

“I…I should…get going,” she stammered and Chris paused, looking at her through slanted eyes.

“Going where?”

“Home.” She moved for the stairs heading down, trying to shove the masses of dark curls off her face.

“Already?”
His voice was a bit high and his eyes widened. Once again she got a glimpse of the little-boy Christian, eager and worried.

“It’s noon, Chris. My plane leaves in about three hours.”

Chris rubbed his hand over his face again and already the movement felt familiar from him. She started to wonder how many other ticks he had. “Man,” he said. “It went so fast. Too fast.”

“Oh, no,” she said lightly as she started down the stairs. “You’ll be totally fine without me. I’m going to grab my bag. Be right back.”

Once she was out of sight, she flew. Her heart pounded, telling her that she might have gotten in deeper with him than she intended. Then she stopped at her small bag and let out a small laugh. Right. Christian Meyer would forget about her within a week. Maybe sooner.

She was still okay.

Chris stood staring at
where she’d gone downstairs, choking on the idea of her leaving, and not just because of what they’d done together the night before. He was writing again. With her. What if he couldn’t when she was gone? What if he went back to how it all was before she came? Hands shaking as soon as he picked up a pen and paper? He could not go back to that.

“Chris.” Max snapped his fingers a few times
pulling Chris out of his trance.

“Sorry, what?” Chris turned toward a frowning Max.

“I told you to leave her alone.” Max adjusted his rolled sleeves.

Chris was used to Max getting agitated, but this felt like more. “Maybe if you’d given me some idea as to
why
.” With how Corinne was purposefully vague, he was even more curious.

“Because I said so!”

Chris stared. Had that really left his friend’s mouth?

Max’s eyes widened for a moment and he snorted and started laughing. Chris’ shoulders relaxed.

“That’s not something I ever thought I’d say.” Max’s laughter died to a chuckle. “Ever.”

“You know you don’t have to use the keys I gave you every time you come over.” Chris pointed to the obvious fact that Max was eating a scone and drinking Chris’ coffee.

Max shrugged but his eyes were still on Chris hard enough that he felt he owed his friend an explanation.

“We’d been dancing around each other all day yesterday,” Chris started. Really, he’d been watching her starting the second he stepped in the room. “I didn’t make the first move. I swear. Well, sort of...”

Max’s brows rose. “But I’d bet money you didn’t pause once she did.”

“Not so much.” Chris pulled open the fridge and snatched a scone, stuffing it in his microwave. “And I’d do it again, too.”

Max winced.

Chris stopped with his hand still resting on the handle of the microwave. “Is she your sister or something? You’re just being weird.”

“Just a friend,” Max said and clipped his words when Corinne hit the top step.

“I’m gonna call a cab,” Corinne said. “And you know how to reach me if you two need anything else.”

His eyes took in her body again. Another pair of worn jeans and a black tank this time. Everything hugging her toned body and perfect slimmed curves.

Hell. Chris wasn’t ready for her to go. Panic welled up inside him. “I’ll drive you,” he blurted and Max coughed.

Screw Max.

Or maybe make it sound like business. “I’ll drive you and then we can maybe talk over a few of the things we didn’t finish yesterday.”

Corinne’s face went flat, and for a second he thought she was going to tell him no. “No, it’s good. I don’t want to trouble you.”

“No trouble.” He shook his head, almost desperate for a few more minutes with her. “I love my car.”

Chris had every right to love his car. Royal blue 1966 convertible Mustang. The sun beat down on Corinne’s skin and she closed her eyes letting the wind wash over her. She wasn’t sure why Chris offered to take her to the airport, since the wind and traffic noise made conversation almost impossible, but it beat a cab or the car Max might have called.

As the air pulled at her curls she tried not to think about how it had felt writing songs with Chris. How it had felt to kiss him. To feel his skin against hers. The problem was that she didn’t have just herself to think about. After suffering so much over her broken heart, not once, but twice, she wasn’t sure when or if she’d ever want to move on with someone else—especially someone who would slam her straight back into the spotlight.

“I always feel like it takes me forever to get here,” Chris said as the airport signs began to appear. “Today it flew.”

“Hmm.”

He pulled over at her airlines and jumped out of the car, grabbing her door just before she could push her way out.

“Thank you, Corinne.” He started to pull her into his arms, but she froze and quickly glanced around for prying eyes.

She found the words and pushed them to the surface. “One night Chris.”

“Relax.” He smiled. “This hug is all about the music, okay?”

She tried not to stare at his body and tried not to feel the hardness of his chest or the strength he used to hold her to him. Tried to stop the snapshots of the night before as his arms wrapped around her waist and his breath slid against her neck. Total fail.

She didn’t know what to say. A thank you would be fine, but she felt like it should be more. At the same time, she was ready to re-distance herself from him and music and LA and everything, so she didn’t want to encourage him either.

“This has been unexpected,” she said as she forced herself to pull away. Made her hands slip from his back and her arms rest against her sides.

He handed her the bag from the backseat with a boyish smile that turned her to mush. “In a good way?”

Getting on that plane had to get him back out of her mind. At the very least, it would put enough space between them that she wouldn’t have to worry about doing something stupid. And her desire to leave would hopefully make the flight a little less stressful. “A good way. Good luck with your album.”

He watched her with too much intensity again so she moved for the airport door tipping her hair forward and hoping no one had seen Chris
tian Meyer. Or her. Or her
with
Christian Meyer. Yes. She was ready for home. She had to get some distance.