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“Yes–no.” I shake my head and look away. “I don’t know. I mean, I thought Nicholas was, b–but…” Cross’s free hand grips my chin firmly. He pulls me to look at him again, and I feel my stomach twist with something other than irritation. “But what?” he snaps. “But it’s not him. I’m just being…” The hold Cross has on my hip gets stronger. His fingers brush against the sliver of skin peeking from below the bundling of my shirt, and I’m suddenly at a loss for words. His tongue slips out of his mouth to wet his lip, and my entire body grows warm. “I’m just being paranoid,” I blurt. I try to push off from the wall, but Cross doesn’t move an inch. I’m trapped. I can’t even turn my face away with the tight grip he has on my chin. “What exactly did he do to you?” The question draws out of his mouth with slow curiosity. He surveys my expression before his gaze trails down my rapidly rising chest, only to snap his eyes back up once more. I lie, my cheeks giving me away immediately. “Nothing.” Cross’s eyes narrow. “The brown color that was once warm moments ago turns dark. “You need to learn self-defense.” I gape at him, a scoff coming next. “I’m fine. Like I said, it's not Nicholas.” His jaw flexes. “But it’s someone." Okay, now he’s being paranoid. Does he have a point? Yes. It would at least make me feel better if I had some way to defend myself if, God forbid, I find myself alone with Nicholas, or someone like him, but I’m not agreeing with Cross. “Fighting is your thing, not mine,” I argue. I push on Cross’s arm, and to my surprise, he lets me go. I round the stairs, rushing to escape into my bedroom, but his voice follows me. ” “Get dressed for the gym. We leave in ten.” I stop mid-step and grab the hand railing. I peer down the flight of stairs at Cross, who is staring up at me with a look that should scare me. Instead, it does the opposite. For a brief second, I let down my guard and allow that hot glare to do what my body wants it to do, and I regret it almost immediately when heat washes over me. I quickly put my back to him. “Or what?” I snap, irritated at him and his stupid glare. “Or I’ll come up there and dress you,” he threatens. “Ten minutes, Scarlett.” I run up the stairs and rush toward my bedroom to get dressed, but little does he know, I’m actually running from him.” Keep reading CROSS THE LINE for *Free* with your Kindle Unlimited subscription! 📚 www.amazon.com/dp/B0DQF76RS8