The Boundary Line ( The Lineage Series #3)

Chapter 5

"That's the thing about you, Nia... you fight like someone who's already halfway mine."

I blinked.

Gone.

The door clicked shut behind him, and I stood there, breath short, pulse racing.

𐦟𐦟𐦟𐦟

Jamie

By the time we got back to the apartment, my brain was fried.

Not from the drills. Not from the conditioning.

From her.

Nia Bennett had officially hijacked every quiet corner of my mind. Her voice. Her eyes. The way she stood across from me earlier—arms crossed, jaw tight, like she hadn't run into me at a club two nights ago and flipped my entire world sideways. Like she hadn't looked at me like she wanted to strangle me... and maybe kiss me right after.

Professional. That's what she was trying to be.

But I'd seen something behind that look. That fire she tried so hard to hide. That sharp edge in her voice when she try to hit me with that Creole.

Ou vrèman panse ou enpòtan konsa?

"You really think you matter that much?"

Hell yeah, I did. Maybe not to her—yet—but she mattered to me more than I wanted to admit.

And calling her Ti flanm?

The way her mouth dropped open when I said it? I'd play that moment on repeat if I could.

That's definitely gonna be her new name. Even if she pretends to hate it, I know she hears it in my voice when I say it. Soft. Teasing. Just enough to get under her skin.

I collapsed on the couch, scrolling my phone with one hand while ignoring the tightness in my chest I didn't want to name. Mom had texted me three times already.

MOM:
Jamie, don't forget your laundry, it's been sitting for days.
Jamie, did you eat?
Jamie, I sent you the article about stretching your hamstrings properly—READ IT.

I texted back a half-hearted "I got it, Ma", knowing damn well I didn't. My gym bag was still sitting by the front door, full of sweat-soaked clothes that I barely finished at the estate back home.

Across the room, Tre threw open the fridge with the dramatic flair of a man who thought food would magically appear.

"Why is there never any food in this house?" he groaned.

"Because you eat like a linebacker and shop like a college freshman," I said, not looking up.

He turned, pointing a spoon at me like I was the problem. "Nah, man. This is your fault. You keep dragging me to workouts and forget the important part—recovery snacks."

I smirked, still staring at my phone but seeing something else entirely.

A mouth with attitude. Eyes that dared me to cross the line.

Nia Bennett.

My Ti flanm.

And the worst part?

I didn't want to stop messing with her.

I wanted to see what happened when that flame turned into something bigger.

"Because you eat like a damn linebacker," Dev muttered, tossing his keys on the counter and collapsing on the couch.

"I am a linebacker," Tre shot back.

"Exactly."

I dropped into the armchair, rubbing my temples. Malaki was already on the balcony, AirPods in, probably scrolling through his stock portfolio like he wasn't just doing sled pushes an hour ago.

"Yo," Tre called from the kitchen. "Did y'all hear about the new dancers?"

Dev perked up. "What dancers?"

"The Seahawks. They're doing a mid-season refresh or something. New routines, new looks, and new girls. The media team just posted a preview."

Dev pulled out his phone. "Lemme see."

"Y'all are really about to sit here and talk about dancers after today?" I asked.

"Yes," Tre and Dev said at the exact same time.

I exhaled, leaning my head back against the cushion.

"Yo..." Dev's voice dropped a full octave. "Who is that?"

"Which one?" Tre asked, already leaning over his shoulder.

"The one in the red crop top. Long legs. Blonde. Blue eyes. Full lips. She looks like a Victoria's Secret angel field."

"That's Ashlee Windsor," Malaki said from the balcony without missing a beat. "Used to dance for the Lakers. Moved up here last month when the team changed directors."

All three of us looked at him.

He shrugged. "What? I read."

"You Google," Tre muttered.

"Same thing."

Dev kept scrolling, mesmerized. "She's bad. Like... distracting bad."

Tre nodded. "Coach gon' have a heart attack."

"Coach already had a heart attack," I muttered. "It was called Nia."

That earned a laugh from Dev, who tilted his head and squinted. "Speaking of, what was that look between y'all earlier?"

"She's the coach's daughter, dumbass" I said flatly.

Tre flopped onto the couch beside Dev. "Yeah, which is why you're gonna spend the whole season trying not to look at her."

"I'm not trying anything."

"Sure, bro," Malaki said from behind the glass. "And I'm not trying to be rich."

I rubbed a hand over my face, willing the conversation to die.

But it didn't. Not really. It just shifted—to Ashlee Windsor, and who had the best chance at getting her number before kickoff.

I let them talk.

Let them fantasize.

But in the back of my mind, the only person I kept seeing was Nia.

The fire in her stare.

The quiet dare in her silence.

And the way she made off-limits feel like the most tempting territory on earth.