Crossing the Line (Pushing the Limits 1.10)

I inhale as if it’s the first breath I’ve ever taken. Lila cares for me. I step into her room and pause beside her. “Can I sit?” Because it’s her bed and there’s no way I’m assuming I’ve got permission for a place as sacred as that.

She scoots over, creating a space for me. I lower onto the bed and my heart picks up speed. I rub my hands against my jeans and release a slow, steady stream of air. “I’ll be starting summer school on Monday. ”

Lila angles her body toward me, a sure sign I’ve got her attention.

“My guidance counselor said that I’ve got a good chance at spring admission to the University of Florida because of my ACT and SAT scores and my grades before this year. He thinks if I can focus on summer school and write a kick-ass essay on how I learned from my screwup, the admissions board will look past my mistakes.

“I’m going to admit, until I came here, I was still ignoring what needed to be done. I knew I wanted to fix us, but watching you tackle your fears has helped me realize that I’ve got to tackle mine. I’ve made mistakes and I’m going to make it right. ”

Her thin, delicate fingers rest on her knee. Two and a half years ago, Lila and I sat outside a funeral home and she had the courage to reach over to me when I described my relationship with my older brother. No, I didn’t cry at Josh’s funeral, but what I never told anyone was how I wept like a baby to a girl I had never met before. . . to Lila.

Channeling the same strength she showed that night, I place my hand over hers. Lila immediately laces her fingers with mine.

I continue. “I should have told you the truth about not graduating before, but I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me—I didn’t want to admit that I let you down. I know I’m going to be a semester late, but I’m coming to Florida, Lila, and I swear I won’t let you down again. ”

A tender smile eases onto her lips. “And I’ll be there—waiting. ”

My chest expands as I lean into her. Her lavender scent engulfs me, and those sky blue eyes draw me in. “I like you,” I whisper as I nuzzle the satin skin of her cheek. More than like, but I don’t want to rush things.

Lila tilts her head and whispers against my lips, “I like you, too. ”

Her kiss is soft and warm—inviting. We both explore, a hesitant dance as we glide over li

nes neither one of us imagined crossing. I let go of her hand to push the damp hair away from her face. My fingers trace her cheekbone, then drift to the nape of her neck.

My skin vibrates when a feminine sigh escapes her lips—a sound of approval, a sound of longing. Lila shifts and I take advantage by wrapping an arm around her body. She weaves her fingers into my hair and pulls me closer. My blood heats and so does our kiss.

I suck in her lower lip and in our next breath our tongues slide against one another. Hands—my hands, her hands—roam. Over arms, over backs, memorizing curves, lingering near shirt hems.

We kiss and touch and continue to kiss. With hearts beating hard and breath difficult to catch, we press our lips together one final time, then break away.

Yeah, we’ve crossed lines today, but there are some borders neither one of us is eager to breach. Lila’s eyes shining up at me confirm her approval of the new path we’ve chosen, and on this path we have time to explore, we have time to kiss, and we have all the time in the world to fall in love.

Lila

The entire sky erupted into hundreds of streaks of light. I never felt so alive. I wished that you were here with me or me with you. But I think you were. Call me crazy, but it was a moment, Lila, and I’m glad I shared it with you. Even if it was from a couple hundred miles away.

~ Lincoln

“I need a code name,” Lincoln says over the walkie-talkie I confiscated from my youngest brother’s room. It’s midnight and the two of us have been hunkered in our positions since nine.

If I squint and stare long enough, I can decipher Lincoln’s shadow fifteen feet in the air in the large oak tree near the front of the house. It almost looks as if the tree has a cancerous growth springing from it. For the first hour, I worried over how he dangled from the branch, but I soon discovered that Lincoln’s as comfortable with heights as I am at a sale at Macy’s.

“What do you have in mind?” I ask. Behind the row of bushes and up against the trunk of a weeping willow, I scan the midnight horizon. The sky’s clear. Beautiful white stars twinkle down on us, but there’s no moon tonight. A good thing, as Stephen and his traveling band of hyenas won’t see us. A bad thing, as it makes it hard for us to spot them.

“Something dangerous, like Razor or Blade. ”

I hear the tease in his voice and accept the bait. “How about Abe? Or Honest? Those sound like perfect code names. ”

“Har, har. How about you lay a president joke I haven’t heard before. ”

It’s been like this for the past three hours—a comfortable steady stream of conversation. Earlier, Lincoln kissed me. . . and I kissed him back. Before coming out here, we spent a couple of hours wrapped in each other’s arms on my bed, alternating between talking and kissing.

My heart aches when I think of him leaving in the morning, but we have a plan and both of us are sticking to it.

“When did you know?” I ask. “That you had feelings for me. ”

Static on the other side. Crap. Maybe I went too far.