The Crush List

Chapter Ten - Lines, Crossed

The morning light spilled through the gauzy curtains, soft and golden, warming the skin she hadn’t yet gathered the courage to pull the sheets over. Emery blinked against the light, her heart already thudding with the rush of memory.

She was tangled in the white linen sheets. And in Cal.

His arm was draped around her waist, skin warm, fingers resting just above her hip. She didn’t dare move. Not yet. Not while she could breathe in the subtle scent of his cologne still lingering in the sheets—something deep and musky and unmistakably him. Not while she could feel the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing against her shoulder.

She’d done it.

She had thrown herself at Cal Donovan.

And he hadn’t stopped her.

Her cheeks flushed hot. Not from regret—no, that wasn’t it—but from the quiet chaos of everything she was feeling. She had wanted him. Wanted this. And she hadn’t waited for him to make the first move like she always used to, clinging to the safety of hesitation.

She’d kissed him like she meant it.

She’d undressed for him like she’d wanted it for years.

She had made her childhood crush a part of her adult reality—and somehow, it hadn’t shattered her. It had left her breathless.

Turning slightly, she glanced at him. Even in sleep, Cal looked infuriatingly composed. His lashes cast delicate shadows on his cheekbones. The faintest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, like he was dreaming of something good.

Her stomach fluttered.

Was this still part of the list? Or had they just completely stepped off the map?

And then the thought that made her freeze: What happens now?

She lay curled in the sheets, still breathless from everything that had happened — not just last night, but since the day he pulled her out of her sleepy hometown and dropped her into a whirlwind she never saw coming.

Cal stretched beside her, shirtless and gloriously unbothered, scrolling casually through the note on his tablet. She peeked at him over the edge of the blanket, already blushing.

He grinned, as smug as ever. “Want to hear the official stats?”

She groaned. “Do I have a choice?”

“Nope.” He cleared his throat, like a dramatic announcer. “As of 9:12 AM this morning, the following bucket list items have been successfully completed by one Miss Emery Blake.”

She hid her face in the pillow, but he pressed on.

“Number one,” he began. “Make a friend for life. Thank you, Lianne.”

“She's the best,” Emery mumbled into the pillow.

“Number two: Have a one-night stand with a lead singer. You’re welcome, Jace.”

She winced. “Okay, let’s not mention him today.”

“Number three: Kiss someone you just met. Double points to the rockstar.”

“Seriously.”

“Number four,” he said, his voice changing. “Kiss someone you shouldn’t.”

She lifted her head to look at him. His eyes were already on her. There was something about the way he said someone you shouldn’t — like he wasn’t sure if it was a joke anymore.

“Five,” he said, clearing his throat, “Get drunk and dance like no one’s watching.”

“Lianne said I was a menace on the dance floor.”

“You were glorious,” he corrected.

She laughed softly, letting the sheet fall lower. “So we’re halfway through.”

“Which brings us to the next five.” He tapped the list again and read them out:

Skinny dip at a party

Fall headfirst in love — even if it ends in heartbreak

Go on a spontaneous trip without planning

Tell someone how you really feel, consequences be damned

Let someone see all of you — no walls, no pretending

The mood shifted. Quieter. More charged.

Cal let the tablet fall to his chest and looked over at her. “Skinny dipping seems doable.”

“Obvious choice,” she murmured, though her mind was still back at numbers 7 through 10.

“You trust me, Em?”

She nodded slowly.

“Then let me help with the rest. We’ll take it one at a time. I want you to have all of it — the chaos, the clarity, the messy parts too.” He hesitated. “But only if you’re ready.”

She swallowed hard. “Maybe it’s time I stop living scared.”

He smiled. “Then we start with six?”

“Skinny dipping it is.”

By the time they pulled up to the Malibu house tucked deep into the cliffs, the sky had melted into a wash of gold and pink. Emery stepped out in a breezy sundress, the kind that flirted with her thighs and made her feel more confident than she probably should.

She stuck close to Cal’s side as music floated from the open windows and the sounds of splashing drifted down from the cliffside infinity pool. A party was already in full swing — sun-kissed bodies draped over loungers, drinks in hand, and laughter that felt too easy.

“Your people are so intimidating,” she whispered to Cal as they made their way through.

“They’re drunk,” he said, leaning close to her ear. “And half of them don’t know the difference between Cannes and cans.”

She laughed nervously. “That’s not helping.”

He tugged gently on her wrist, guiding her toward the poolside bar. “Let’s make this simple. A drink to loosen up and then... item number six.”

Her stomach dropped. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious.” He looked at her over his glass. “That list was a promise. You said yes. No backing out now.”

Later, standing at the edge of the glowing pool surrounded by partygoers too busy to care, Emery’s nerves buzzed as Cal began to unbutton his shirt like it was nothing.

She hissed, “You’re not—Cal, are you really—”

But he was. He dropped his shirt, kicked off his jeans, and gave her a smug smile. “You coming, Blake?”

“God, I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

Before she could let herself overthink it, Emery pulled the dress over her head, hesitated only a second, and then unhooked her bra and stepped out of her panties.

She was completely naked.

In front of him.

In front of the pool.

Her entire body screamed run, but Cal’s eyes softened the longer he looked at her — not with heat or cocky amusement, but with something deeper, warmer. Like she’d just done something brave, and he saw it.

He extended a hand. “Come on. It’s just water.”

She took it.

The pool was warm when she slipped in beside him, but her skin still tingled. They floated together, alone in a crowd, limbs brushing beneath the surface. His eyes never left hers.

“Number six,” he said quietly, brushing her wet hair back. “Officially complete.”

Her heart thudded. Maybe so was number ten — let someone see all of you. Because in that moment, under the stars, completely bare, she knew he already had.

The laughter and music faded into the background, muffled by the water and the closeness between them. Emery floated on her back for a moment, her hand still tucked into Cal’s. The stars above were scattered like spilled sugar across the night sky, and for the first time in weeks, she didn’t feel like she had to chase something to feel alive.

She already was.

When she turned toward him again, he was watching her.

Not in that casual, cocky way he usually did, but with a reverent kind of stillness — like he saw her completely. And not just the way her wet hair clung to her cheeks or how the moonlight turned her skin silver. He saw past that. Saw her.

“Thanks for not letting me chicken out,” she whispered, her voice barely above the ripple of the water.

His fingers drifted up her arm, slow and unhurried. “I didn’t do anything,” he murmured. “You jumped.”

“I only did because you were already in the water.”

“Maybe. But you stayed.”

She was floating in warmth — from the water, from his words, from the tension that thickened between them like the night air. Her heart thudded against her chest, demanding something from her she wasn’t ready to name.

And then he leaned in.

His hand found the side of her face, fingers slick and gentle as they pushed wet strands behind her ear. His lips brushed hers once, barely there.

Soft.

Curious.

When she didn’t pull away, he kissed her again — this time deeper, more certain. The kind of kiss that melted her bones and rewrote every memory of every kiss she thought meant something.

Because this one did.

Her arms wound around his neck, her bare body pressing into his under the surface of the water. And when they finally pulled apart, breathless and dazed, he rested his forehead against hers.

“We’re gonna need a bigger list,” he whispered.

She smiled, heart wild in her chest.

Maybe he was right.