Cross the Line (Boston Love Story #2)

He chuckles and pulls back slightly to look at me. “Now, tell me the big emergency.”


“He won’t leave. He’s moving around all my stuff and he spilled nachos on my favorite Anthropologie blanket and he’s kidnapped my dog. They haven’t left that bedroom in days except to pee and eat. Days! The doctor said take it easy not turn into Howard Hughes.” My voice gets more and more frantic as the words pour out. “You have to help me.”

“What do you expect me to do?” Nate’s voice is amused.

Amused!

“Make him leave that room,” I beg. “Or at least make him shower. I think he’s starting to mold.”

“Little bird—”

“He’s your best friend,” I point out.

“Exactly. I’m his friend, not his nursemaid.”

I glare at him. “Did I mention he’s in the guest room? As in, the bedroom next to mine?”

He stares at me blankly.

“Nathaniel Xavier Knox,” I whisper intently, eyes locked on his. “If you ever want to have sex again, you have to get him out of there. We can’t do it while we’re sharing a wall with my brother.”

Comprehension flares in his eyes and before I know it, he’s moving. His long legs take the stairs two at a time. I follow, heart pounding in my chest.

“Knox!” Parker says when we open the door. He’s lying in bed, arm in a sling, eating a bag of potato chips. Boo is tucked close by his side. “What’s going on, man?”

Nate reaches into his back pocket, removes his house keys, and tosses them toward the bed. Parker catches them with his good hand.

“What are these?” he asks, staring at the keys.

“Keys to my loft,” Nate says. “You’re staying there, till you find a place.”

“Sweet, thanks man.” Parker’s eyes find mine. “You kicking me out, Phoebe?”

“No! Of course not!” I’m suddenly hit with a wave of guilt. “It’s just…”

“I’m moving in here,” Nate says. “And we need our space.”

Parker grimaces and hops out of bed. “Enough said.”

Boo looks forlorn at the sudden absence of his snuggling partner.

I try to pick my jaw up off the floor so I can effectively glare at Nate. “I’m sorry, you’re doing what exactly?”

“Moving in.” He says it like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “Did you not hear me?”

“I heard you.” I stare from Nate to Parker, who’s shoving clothes into his duffle one-handed. “But… I…” I swallow. “Moving in. Here. With me.”

His eyes crinkle. “That’s what moving in means.”

“But… it’s only been, like… a week… since we started…”

Dating? Screwing? Living a life without the ever-present threat of mobsters?

“AH!” Parker yells. “Do not finish that sentence, for the love of god.”

I sigh and shoot a look in Nate’s direction. “You can’t move in with someone after five minutes of being together. That’s crazy.”

“Know what’s crazy?” he asks, stepping close. “Being in love with someone for more than half your life and not waking up to their face every morning.”

My mouth goes dry.

Damn, he’s good.

“God, you’re mushy,” Parker says, staring gloatingly at Nate. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

Nate cuts a look at his best friend. “Wait till it happens to you. You’ll never see it coming.”

“Oh, I’ll see her coming.” Parker’s eyebrows waggle.

I make a gagging noise.

“Relax, I’m joking.” He slings the duffle strap over his good shoulder, wincing. “I’m not the relationship type. You guys know that.”

“Uh huh,” Nate says.

“Sure you aren’t,” I murmur.

Parker rolls his eyes and heads for the doorway. We follow him down the stairs, Boo at our heels.

“I’ll miss you, Sweet P. Who am I going to call when I need snack refills?” He makes a sad face. “Your nachos are unbeatable.”

I laugh. “Nate has an oven, you know.”

“But my nachos won’t be the same. Yours are prepared with love.”

“Fine, fine.” I roll my eyes. “I’ll come visit.”

“Great! Bring that guacamole you made the other day. That shit is amazing.”

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