Blurring the Lines Read online

  “...I’m home tomorrow...miss you too…”

  He tuned out after that. No wonder she wasn’t at all interested. Of course. He hadn’t even looked for a ring. Hadn’t thought to ask Max if she was attached. Hell, from the hallway, before he saw her, he’d thought she was fifty.

  She slid her phone in her pocket and picked up the guitar on her way back to the couch. He liked that she picked up his favorite—the large birds eye maple Guild he played most often.

  “Home is far for you?” he asked.

  “Small town in Washington. Not too far from Seattle but up in the mountains and trees.”

  Chris took a quick scan of her hands. No ring. “Your boyfriend must miss you.”

  She cocked a brow as her small fingers moved gently up and down the neck of the guitar in a scaled melody that felt familiar. “You’re digging again, Christian Meyer.”

  He shook his head. “Sorry. It’s what I do. I like to get to know people, and the questions just sort of come out.” And damn she was good, answering without answering. She must really not like him.

  “And maybe I’m ridiculously private, but I like it that way.” Her voice was so smooth, but with an edge of what he’d heard in her songs. Strength.

  A beat passed between them along with what he felt was some kind of understanding that what they were doing with music was who they were, and nothing more. “Then we’ll keep it that way.” Even if it would kill him a little to let her remain a mystery.

  TWO

  Three hours passed in a blink. They laughed over pizza, and then dug in for several more hours of writing. Corinne never expected this trip to feel so easy. Everything was supposed to be awkward and stilted so she’d be dying to get back home and she...wasn’t.

  Instead she watched him flick his hair, and watched his eyes dart away from her when he brought up rehab. Watched the way his fingers grasped the pencil and how fast he wrote when a phrase struck him. The faint smile that played on his mouth when he fit the puzzle pieces of the chords, melody, and lyrics together. And the wide smile after a successful run through of a verse.

  Once they’d starting changing her lyrics, they hadn’t been able to stop. Their instincts were similar and they continued to take turns passing the guitar and notepad back and forth. The more relaxed she felt around him, the more their sentences overlapped in excitement, and the more the words they chose matched up. And yes, the more closely she continued to watch the little things, like how his brows tightened and he bit his lower lip when he concentrated. How the leather straps on his wrist moved when he twisted his arm just right… The list of things she was noticing was getting long enough to fill a song. She was definitely dangerous waters. At least her visit was short.

  Max, and whoever the sound guy had been, were long gone. Once Chris picked a few songs he liked, she’d played her version for him and then he’d take the guitar and turn the song into something that felt like an even mix of Corinne’s folk roots and alternative-rock Kincaid--a feat she would have thought was impossible before she’d sat down with him.

  His quiet voice as he strummed through another song warmed her, and she sat back, exhausted but excited. The muscles in his arms flexed as he ran up the riff he’d been working on, and if she had been ready to get her heart trampled on again, he would have been a good candidate. Maybe a perfect one. Maybe it was stupid for her to ask that they be nothing more than collaboration partners. Maybe they could be friends.

  Her eyes trailed down his back as he leaned forward. The thin fabric clung to his shoulders, his muscles, and his lean sides... He bent forward a little further, revealing that yes, his back was probably a massive work of tattooed art. Damn.

  No. Friendship with a guy like him would definitely not work.

  She wasn’t going there. Not with Christian freaking Meyer. Her eyes floated back up his body of their own accord. She’d connected with him far too well to let him in on anything past her job. One thing she knew about herself was that once she started to fall, she fell hard and fast.

  The moment he finished the song, he turned to face her with a wide smile. A celebrity smile. Perfection.

  Panic fluttered through her chest, and she stood so fast she nearly fell forward. “I need to step outside for some air.”

  “Can I join you?” he asked as he set the guitar aside.

  There was an urgent look in his eyes that she recognized from high school. The moment when you scramble in the hopes to get a few moments alone. Her chest swelled that he might feel something for her, and she internally cringed at the same thing. People often seemed to give her conflicting emotions, but not like this. He shouldn’t be looking at her that way, and at the same time, she watched him stand in one easy move. She thought about his voice and the warmth of his studio, of him…

  Maybe it had just been too long since she’d been with someone. Was that her problem?

  What if it was casual…? No strings…?

  No, she told herself again. No, no, no, no.

  She thought she gave Chris a nod to say he could follow as she moved for the door. Coming to California was supposed to be about making some money and returning a favor to a friend, not noticing the exact person she shouldn’t.

  Corinne took a deep breath of the warm night air and Chris stepped next to her, their arms brushing as they walked sending goose bumps across her skin.

  “You must love it out here,” she commented as she took in the surroundings. The small homes, the large homes, the expanse of beach in both directions. She had to loosen up. Calm her heart down. Get her ridiculous body’s reaction to him under control.

  “I…” Chris paused long enough that she stopped and turned to face him. It was a mistake because the hint of vulnerability she’d seen earlier was back, reflected in his eyes from the scattered lights on the beach. He fingered the leather cuffs on his wrist for a moment before dropping his arms.

  “Thank you. For being here.” He pushed out a slow breath. “It’s hard. When you’re in every tabloid and gossip magazine, and you’re trying to do a good thing for yourself and your life… It’s just hard to put yourself in a position where your face will be spread across that mess again.”

  Her chest folded in on itself as her past tried to force its way in. All the reasons she’d left. All the horrible, spiteful words from people who didn’t know her or her situation, splashed over newspapers, online gossip sites, Facebook... Cameras everywhere she went. Nothing about that brief time in her life was kept as quiet as she’d wanted. But that was close to six years ago now. She’d changed. Become smarter.

  “I totally get that,” she said quietly.

  “You don’t know what you’ve done for me today. You can’t know. Really. Not unless you’ve lost your ability to write. The one thing that kept me sane disappeared. I just…” He swallowed once, his eyes still firmly on hers. “Thank you.”

  Hurt and sympathy swelled in her throat as she watched Chris’ frown turn into a rueful smile. She felt herself lighten with him as he began to laugh.

  “Man, things have changed for me, and I’m still trying to get a handle on it. On who I am without being high. Without the band. Life feels so very real for me right now, and I’m not always sure what to do with that.”

  The desire to touch him raced through her as she read the emotion on his face and stepped closer. One night. Maybe she could allow herself that. It’s not like she’d ever see him after this. Maybe their connection was a good thing since there was no chance of it lasting. Maybe she was just trying to justify something her body wanted. Maybe that justification was enough.

  She didn’t mean to move. Didn’t tell her hand to reach forward and pinch the bottom of his shirt. She stood, watching her hands against the fabric, not totally understanding how they got there.

  Chris stepped closer, dipped his head down, and paused just shy of their lips coming together. Just at that moment where the nearness blurred out everything else. “You’re missing someone from home?”
/>   “Not like you think,” she whispered back. He must have overheard her conversation. He cared enough to ask. To stop her before either of them moved past that friendship point. But maybe they’d passed that point when she first watched him come in the room, her heart flipping over almost as fast as her stomach.

  After spending the day with him, she knew that there was something cautious enough about Chris that he’d wait for her to make the first move. “I don’t…” she whispered, but couldn’t finish.

  Heat spun through her as their lips came together. And then a frantic energy when she opened her mouth to kiss him more deeply. Once. Enough to know that if she were able to let go, it would be worth it.

  He squeezed her sides gently, his thumbs stroking the skin at the top of her pants. She knew she should step away. Knew it, but couldn’t find the willpower. Not yet. Chris’ mouth moved against hers, matching her pressure.

  Now. Step away now.

  Instead her feet slid closer to him, and he responded again, wrapping his arms around her lower back and bringing them together. With the ache in her body, it took all her strength not to wrap her legs around his waist where they stood. Maybe… She’d paid Max back, and she wouldn’t be coming back. It was just now. That’s all. Nothing more. Nerves of anticipation skittered through her at the thought of him. His strong fingers tracing her body. The weight of his lean, strong form on top of her.

  She broke their kiss and leaned back just far enough to see his face.

  “One night,” she whispered. “It’s all I can do. I’m sure you’re good at that.”

  His calloused finger touched her chin. “Don’t judge,” he chided as he touched his nose to hers. “My whole life is different now. Much more how it was before I became part of Kincaid—at least I want it to be.”

  She let her hands touch his lower back as their lips came together again. She dug her fingers into his tight sides, and hoped she’d be able to go through with this. She had a feeling he’d make their night together worth it.

  “We’ve been working all day.” He smiled as he stepped back, taking her hands in his.

  She smoothed her fingers over his calluses as their hands rested together.

  “Your call,” he said. “We can have some fun together or I’ll get you a car to take you to your hotel. Or you’re more than welcome to take the guest room. Whatever you want.”

  Her fingers shook in nerves and her heart fluttered in her chest. The knot that had formed low in her stomach moved down and she stepped closer to him again. “I’m not this girl. I want you to know that I’m not normally the girl who would—”

  He nodded, closing the couple inch gap between them and sending another rush of heat through her as their stomachs and hips touched. “But it would be a waste to not use whatever’s been passing between us today, yes?”

  “Yes,” she agreed in a rush of breath.

  His hands knotted in the back of her shirt, his faint stubble rested on her cheek, and he held her so tightly her feet nearly came off the ground. It would definitely be a waste.

  Of course Chris knew she wasn’t the kind of girl to ask for one night with someone. She just… She just wasn’t. He was going to catch hell from Max, but maybe Max wouldn’t find out.

  Her arms snaked around his middle from behind as they walked up the two flights of stairs to his room. He couldn’t stop touching her beautiful skin, running his fingers over her forearms, enjoying the softness of her.

  Corinne froze when they stepped into the vast master bedroom. A blond wooden floor and a bed surrounded on three sides by windows. He loved it, even though it sometimes felt too sparse. The few books on his nightstand didn’t do much to warm up the large room.

  Chris stepped behind her, his turn to slide his hands around her stomach and kissed the top of her shoulder. “Privacy glass.”

  Her eyes were wide on the small bits of light reflecting on the edge of the ocean. “The view. It’s…”

  He’d seen the expanse of beach what felt like a hundred times before, but it was his first day with her. He traced her profile with his finger, starting at the top of her forehead and going over her fine nose, smooth lips, small chin… Every inch of her looked lickable, and he slid his hand over her jaw line, along the lines of her neck and collarbone, down between her breasts, stopping just at the button of her pants.

  She leaned back into him letting out a soft sigh that started to fuzz out reality. This was something that hadn’t changed in his world. He was going to enjoy every second of being with her.

  “Don’t stop there,” she whispered.

  He slid open the button on her jeans and she faced him pushing her hands under his shirt.

  “I guess our night starts now,” he said smiling.

  She grinned, bit his chest lightly, and shoved his shirt over his head. “Our night definitely starts now.”

  One of the benefits of being sober, he was realizing, was feeling Every. Single. Touch as her hands roamed his chest, shoulders and neck, followed by her mouth.

  Chris led her to the bed and sat down, sliding open the drawer and dropping a couple condoms on the bed. “Just so it’s not awkward later.”

  Corinne stepped between his legs, putting the top of her jeans level with his face. He kissed her stomach and tugged her jeans down a couple inches, but she stood rigid.

  “I need to not be nervous.” Corinne let out a light chuckle.

  He’d rather be the nice guy than screw up. “We don’t—”

  “Stop trying to be so careful and be the rock star, Chris.” She pushed out a breath. “I need this.”

  He grabbed her around the waist and swung her onto his bed. His hands immediately went to her pants, tugging them down and tracing the definition in her thighs and calves. She shivered as he ran his fingers up and down her legs, tracing up the inside of her thigh and stopping just before reaching smooth, black panties.

  No way was he going to rush when he had all night, and probably just one night. He tasted her skin again and again, sliding his lips over her shoulders, up her neck, across her collarbone. He slid her bra off her arms, admiring every curve, every line of the perfectly toned body he’d imagined as they’d written that day. He slipped off his pants and hovered over her, still needing to know that she wanted this the way he did before moving forward.

  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, driving 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 botto
m, 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.