Crossfire (Cross Duet #1)

23. IVY

23

IVY

I motioned to the building with my chin.

“This is where my Grams stays.”

Grayson followed my line of sight, and when he saw the sign, his head tilted back slightly, a flicker of something crossing his features.

“I have to talk to them before I start my shift, but…” I hesitated, gathering my courage. “I’d love to have coffee again tomorrow?”

The air between us crackled with an undeniable electricity as his attention drifted to my mouth. I felt myself falling into the magnetic pull between us, imagining his lips on mine, his strong hands pulling me closer, his fingers tangling in my hair as he claimed me with a searing kiss that would forever etch itself into my memory.

Based on the parting of his lips, he was imagining the same thing.

As a gust of wind tossed a lock of hair across my cheek, Grayson reached up and delicately tucked the strand behind my ear, his skin brushing against mine in a featherlight caress that ignited every nerve ending and settled in my core with an unbearable ache.

I could tell by the way he instantly stilled that he felt this connection, too. As the air seemed to crackle between us, I wondered, Did it threaten to consume him like it did me?

God, everything about him was intoxicating. His dark hair, tousled just so. The rough stubble shadowing his jaw and those full lips that promised both sin and salvation. With broad shoulders and lean muscles barely contained by his shirt, Grayson towered over me, deliciously tall and undeniably handsome.

His knuckles brushed down my cheek, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. I gasped as he traced my jawline, finally capturing my chin between his thumb and forefinger. He tilted my face up, our eyes locking in a moment of breathless anticipation.

Yes, I ached to taste him, to lose myself in his intoxicating essence.

Grayson lowered his head, his focus fixed on my mouth, and as the distance between us closed agonizingly slowly, each inch felt like a lifetime.

And then, finally, gloriously, his lips met mine. The world fell away, leaving only us and this perfect moment. His mouth was warm and impossibly soft, sending fresh jolts of electricity racing through my body. I pressed myself against him, one hand splaying across his muscular back as he deepened the kiss, his passion matching my own, stealing the very breath from my lungs.

I clung to him, desperately wishing this moment could last forever. But suddenly, his lips stilled against mine, then abandoned me. His face, now inches from my own, tightened, and a deep line invaded the space between his brows as he stepped back and dropped his line of sight to the ground.

Ice water raced through my veins. The physical space between us was nothing compared to the emotional chasm he’d just created.

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” he murmured.

“What?” I whispered, my voice a mixture of hurt and confusion.

What just happened? Had I imagined the electric spark between us? The way his touch set my skin ablaze?

My radar couldn’t be that off.

Could it?

Until this moment, I’d been swept away by hope. When you meet someone and just know you vibe with them, your heart can’t help but get carried away with possibility.

But suddenly, that possibility evaporated like mist in the harsh light of day.

This was…humiliating. To have read it all so terribly wrong.

GRAYSON

What was I doing? Even if Ivy was innocent, she was part of our investigation into Vosch. Exploring any feelings for her was inappropriate, irresponsible, and reckless. Duty had to come first—the CIA was more than just my job; it was my lifeline.

After Dad’s murder, I had been set adrift, consumed by rage, grief threatening to usher me to either a coffin or a prison cell. The agency gave me purpose again when I thought I’d never find solid ground. They molded the shattered pieces of me into an agent, and my pain transformed into determination to protect others from my hell.

But Ivy…there was something about her that called to the tattered remains of the person I could be. The gentleness in her eyes somehow bypassed all my hard-earned defenses. When I was with her, I caught fleeting glimpses of a future not defined by vengeance and loss, but a version of myself I’d never considered before—free from darkness.

But that was ridiculous. First of all, I didn’t want anything to jeopardize my duty to the CIA, and second of all, there was no way you could develop…whatever this was so quickly for another human being.

Right?

This was…controllable. It had to be.

Losing myself in her radiance would be disastrous, not only jeopardizing the mission, but also shattering the fragile self-control I’d painstakingly pieced together. If I relinquished even a fraction of that hard-won restraint, the abyss of suffering I once barely escaped might swallow me whole again.

And speaking of suffering…there was another fear that had been a constant companion since my dad’s death. The prospect of letting someone in, of allowing myself to explore these feelings, to the point of being vulnerable, terrified me more than I cared to admit.

Truth be told, I had looked forward to seeing her today, and now, I looked forward to seeing her even more tomorrow. Hell, the thought of her leaving my sight gave me anxiety.

And not just because her life might be in danger.

I had kept people at arm’s length for a reason, but she was the first to challenge my carefully constructed isolation. The sudden urge to lower my defenses, to embrace the happiness I’d long denied myself, both tempted and terrified me.

I couldn’t go through that again. I couldn’t let myself fall for anyone, particularly someone who had a target on her back.

I couldn’t endure someone else being ripped away from me, just like my father had been.

IVY

“I’m sorry, Ivy. I…” He trailed off, apparently struggling to find the right words. He refused to look at me, instead fixating on the ground beneath our feet.

Rejection sliced through my chest.

And shortly behind it came anger.

When did he know he wasn’t into me? Because he seemed pretty damn into me yesterday, too.

No. Scratch that. He was for sure into me yesterday—he’d said as much.

How dare he invite me out to coffee and make me feel like I was floating for the first time since my dad died, only to pop that balloon and send me crashing back to the ground?

Make no mistake. No one was responsible for my happiness except me, but I had allowed Pete to toy with my emotions for too long, and I certainly wasn’t going to hand those reins to someone else.

Welcome to fight or flight: emotion edition.

All I wanted to do was run away, but instead, I glared at him, unwilling to let him off that easy.

“You what?” I snapped, my voice sharp with hurt and anger.

Not that he didn’t deserve it. He just didn’t deserve to elicit any emotional reaction after making me feel so wanted, just to reject me.

Grayson’s eyes, flooded with turmoil, finally met mine, and in them was a silent plea for understanding that almost made me catch my breath.

Almost.

“I care about you, more than I thought possible in such a short time. But I can’t…” Grayson paused, struggling with his next words.

English, buddy.

“I know it doesn’t seem like it,” he said, “but this is for the best.”

I chuckled angrily.

Yeah, okay, dude. This is just another version of the it’s not you, it’s me speech. Whatever. I felt fireworks, and I thought he did, too, but clearly, I misread the signals.

Did it suck? Yep.

But I’d live.

“Okay…then. Thanks for the coffee and whatever the heck this was. Have a nice life, Grayson.”

“Wait.” His hand was gentle but firm as it wrapped around my wrist. “I’d still like to be friends.”

I actually laughed out loud. Like loud , loud. Based on the narrowing of his eyes, he was either offended or confused.

Offended, I hope.

“Save your breath, Grayson. I don’t need a consolation friendship. I’m holding out for someone who sees me as the prize, not an afterthought.”

I yanked my wrist free from him.

“Ivy, wait.”

Nope. The path to non-humiliation was a one-way road, away from the handsome pile of rejection.

I kept walking, until he said, “Ivy, I have a connection with the owner of this place. I think I can help with your grandmother.”