Crossing the Line Read online

  Is Aden really looking for someone like her, though? He eventually wants children so am I just a bit of fun until he’s ready to settle down with someone like Isabel? I groan in frustration. Eventually, I won’t be what he wants.

  Once Aden escapes I hold my breath, hoping he’ll come back and speak to me, but he is immediately cornered by three men I don’t know. He clearly does, though; they chat and laugh. I need him to take me upstairs now and then tell me he doesn’t want to marry my sister.

  I stumble off the stool, beyond pissed off and frustrated. “Shit,” I mumble to myself as I grab the bar for support. The world wobbles and that gives the room way to tilt and spin. Damn it, how much have I drank? My head feels like it swimming. Drinking loads and then standing up is a rookie mistake and not one I’ve made since I was sixteen.

  “Millie, are you okay?” Aden whispers as he grabs my arm. I look up at him, or all three of him, and smile.

  I giggle and look at the middle Aden, hoping that one was the real him. “I’m fine,” I say, waving my hand to prove that I’m not drunk; because everyone knows an over the top hand gesture is the picture of sober.

  “You’re drunk,” he says, giving me a lopsided smirk.

  “And you’re so bloody sexy I’m thinking of doing you right there on the floor.” I point to the ground.

  He chuckles and starts to lead me somewhere. He doesn’t like the floor just there? “Well that’s good to know, but I don’t think it would be a good idea in front of that many people.” I’ve no clue where he’s taking me, but I assume it’s to my room. I don’t care anyway, as long as we can be alone.

  “Are you taking me to bed?” I ask as he opens my bedroom door.

  “Yes but so you can sleep. You’re going to have a killer hangover in the morning.” I turn around as he closes the door and run my hand along the top of his trousers, biting my lip as my already hot from the alcohol body bursts into flames. “You’re too drunk for that,” he whispers, moaning breathlessly. I don’t think I could ever be too drunk to want him, and it’s not like we haven’t done it before.

  He grabs my hand and pulls it away from him. What the hell is that? He’s never stopped me before. Rejection stings like a bitch. “Fine, whatever, Aden,” I snap, shoving his hand away and turning so he can’t see how hurt and embarrassed I am.

  “You’re really mad at me now?” he says, sounding dumfounded.

  “No, I don’t care. Just go screw my sister.” Oh fuck, that just slips out of my mouth and now I sound like a jealous teenager. Even knowing that I still carry on, because I like to dig just that little bit further. “I hope you’ll be very happy and have lots of perfect children!” I am never drinking again. I want to drown myself in the day old glass of water on my bedside table.

  “Where the fuck did that come from?” he shouts, making me flinch and grip my now pounding head. I so don’t need this right now. He needs to leave.

  I spin around. Not much point backing down now. “Where do you think?” God he spent a big chunk of the party talking to her, after almost having sex with me.

  He scoffs and shakes his head. “We were just talking. For fuck sake, Amelie!”

  “Yeah okay,” I reply sarcastically, slurring my words. “I don’t care anyway. You can do what you want so please can you just leave.” My eyes feel heavy, and I just want to sleep.

  “Oh you don’t care?”

  I shake my head, keeping my eyes closed. It sounds like he’s pacing around my room. I hear his footsteps get louder then quieter. I don’t want to look because I’m pretty sure he’ll be looking at me like I’m a bunny boiler. Seriously, the chick from Fatal Attraction has got nothing on me right now.

  “Really? Because you sound like a jealous girlfriend.” A jealous girlfriend? I do sound like that, but the fact that he’s called me out on it makes me want to punch something, him preferably. My eyes fly open, and I glare.

  Before I can shout I’m falling and then Aden’s hovering over me on my bed. I barely even felt him lift me up and throw us both down. He pins my hands above my head, trapping my legs to the bed with his own. I am going to fucking punch him now, just as soon as I get my hands back.

  “Get off!” I shout, struggling to try and get out of his hold.

  “Not until you tell me what you’re talking about. What’s all this about Isabel?” He asks calmly, pressing his forehead to mine. He’s barely putting any weight on me at all, but it’s still enough to make my body ache for him. I hate that he can make me go from angry to horny in less than a second. I sort of want to be angry still, but I feel it slip away as he looks into my eyes.

  I gulp and realise why I’m so angry. I don’t want to be someone to pass the time with. I don’t want to be a screw until he finds the type of woman my parents want me to be. I want him to want me.

  I frown as the anger rears its ugly head again, this time I’m angry with myself for letting him in. “You want me for an easy lay when it suits you, but you’ll marry my sister.”

  A short burst of laughter explodes from his cheat before he stops and frowns, looking at me like I’m a sandwich short of a picnic. “I… What? I didn’t get any of that, Millie?”

  “I didn’t see you as the arranged marriage type.”

  He laughs again, his eyes glistening with humour. “They’re hardly arranged.” It might as well be. Isabel and whoever she picks have to get the approval of both families. Well not officially but I know they’ll be looking to their parents for the go ahead. “Seriously, I don’t know what you’re on. I’m not marrying your sister.”

  “Not yet,” I mumble like a child. He’s the chosen one and Mum always gets what she wants.

  “Whatever, Amelie,” he snaps suddenly, jumping off me and walking towards the door. I hear his frustrated sign, and I’m about to shout something like screw you when he slams the door hard, making me wince as my head throbs. I groan and bury my head in the pillow. I don’t care anyway; I’m done with him.

  I wake to Mum shaking me. Not a welcome way to rise in the morning I can tell you. “What?” I mumble.

  “Get up,” she says in her no nonsense way and I just know her forehead’s wrinkled from the major frown. Oh crap, I’m in trouble. I push myself up and cover my face with my hands as the light attacks my eyes. I feel as if I have someone drilling my head from the inside. “Breakfast is in fifteen minutes, and I expect to see you downstairs. Your father and I need to talk to you.”

  I groan as she walks out and shuts my door loudly. The cow did that on purpose.

  After a quick shower, I throw on a pair jeans and a t-shirt, not bothering to do anything with my hair or apply make-up. I’m hung over, looking like a slob is all part of the experience. As I open my door, everything from last night came flooding back. Aden carrying me to bed. Me accusing him of using me when he wanted. Accusing him of marrying my sister. Him walking out! Oh God I shouted at him a lot. The blood drains from my face. Well there goes my job.

  I make a U turn back into my room and grab my phone, calling Aden to apologise and possibly claim someone spiked my drink. The phone rings a few times and my stomach churns. I wouldn’t blame him if he doesn’t want to talk to me ever again.

  Finally, he answers but doesn’t say anything. “Hi,” I say sheepishly.

  “Hi,” he replies with a sigh.

  Oh shit this is awkward. I squirm and bite my nail. “Aden, I am so sorry about last night. I had way too much to drink, and I shouldn’t have said any of that. I just-”

  “Millie, stop,” he says, cutting off my speech, which is a good thing because fuck knows what’s going to tumble out of my mouth anymore. “I’m not doing this over the phone. Come over and we’ll talk.”

  That doesn’t sound good. Can’t do what over the phone? Why can’t we do this on the phone? I really want to do this over the phone! “Um, okay sure,” I reply nervously, knowing I don’t really have a choice. I owe him a face-to-face conversation.

  “I’ll pick you up in an hour
. You’re probably still over the limit,” he says and hangs up. Can’t wait!

  I sigh and walk downstairs to face my parents. Looks like it’s going to be a fabulous day for me. Not.

  Their eyes snap up to me as I walk into the room, sitting down a safe distance away. Mum stands without a word and leaves the room. All right then. This just got serious.

  Dad puts his coffee down and rests his arms on the table. “I don’t think I need to tell you how disappointed we are in you, do I?” The never need to tell me; it’s just a given since I was born. “You embarrassed the family and yourself in front of your boss. Thankfully Aden is so understanding and has agreed not to mention it. Amelie, do you have any idea how unprofessional it is to have your boss carry you to your room because you’re too drunk to walk?” Well when he puts it like that. “You’re grounded.”

  I burst out laughing even though it kills my head to do so. When he stares at me all serious I stop, realising he’s not joking. “You’re serious, aren’t you? Dad, I’m twenty-one!”

  He stands so calmly I actually question if he really just said that. “Well you’d better start acting twenty-one. Until then, we’ll treat you as you act. You’re not to leave the house unless it’s for work.” He walks out on me too, and I stare, open wide and open-mouthed. I’ve just been grounded. Well they’re going to be even more pissed off because I’m leaving soon to meet Aden.

  Chapter Seven

  The drive to his house is silent and very, very awkward. Aden has barely looked at me once, and I’m beginning to wish I’d told him I’m ill so we’d have to talk over the phone. I literally have no idea what I can say to make this better. Or to at least get him to look at me. I should say something. Yeah, I definitely should say something.

  “I like your hair,” is what falls from my mouth. Wow, smooth! All right saying nothing would have definitely been better, even if he really does have very nice hair.

  “Thank you,” he replies, shaking his head and fighting a smile. Well at least he still finds me amusing. The tension, well a small part of it, evaporates. My stupid comment breaks the ice slightly, but I’m still not looking forward to this talk we’re about to have.

  We soon slip back into silence, and I decide that I’m definitely going leave it now, who knows what else is just waiting to vomit from my mouth.

  We sit on his big leather sofa not knowing what to say. I don’t want to start this time because it’ll no doubt be something stupid, plus he is the one that summoned me here. Losing my job right now would be fucking awful – I need it. What’s wrong with me? Why did I ever think sleeping with my boss was a good idea?

  “So...” I prompt, hoping he’ll say something soon. We have already reached the world record for longest and most uncomfortable silence.

  He sighs and shifts, so he’s facing me. There’s only a small gap between us, but it feels huge. I’m not used to it being like this with him; we are always laughing, teasing and flirting. “Okay.” He takes a deep breath. It seems like whatever he’s going to say is hard for him. I gulp. “Alright, I’m sorry about last night... and all the other nights...” he whispers quietly. Wait is he apologising for the sex?

  My lungs collapse and I can’t breathe. Does he regret what we’ve done? The wait for him to continue is killing me. “Aden, please. Whatever it is just say it.”

  “It can’t happen anymore,” he says, looking down at the floor. “I crossed the line; it was unprofessional, and I’m sorry.” His eyes finally meet mine, and they’re darker, sad almost. I want to leave. My eyes prickle with tears, and I feel cheap.

  “What can’t happen anymore?” I ask, already knowing the answer. He is going to have to say the words. I need him to say them and to be clear about what he wants.

  He looks down at his lap. “Amelie, you know what I’m talking about. Look, you’re doing a great job at work, and I don’t want to lose you, so we have to keep our relationship strictly professional from now on.” His eyes don’t connect with me once though his speech, and I don’t know if he really means it or if he’s just saying it because he thinks he should.

  I want to push it and question if he really means it or not but I don’t want to look desperate. I don’t want him to know that I like him a lot more than I should. This is why I shouldn’t go for ‘our kind of people’ as Mum puts it. I don’t belong in his world, even though I was born into it. As much as Aden resisted at first he’s been sucked back in, to some degree anyway.

  “Okay,” I say, pretending I’m okay with it and that the thought of just being friends with him makes me feel sick. I hate my job right now. I want to quit just so I can keep seeing him but if I do that it will mean staying at my parent’s house longer. “I guess we weren’t very professional.” Especially in the copy room, his office, my office, the kitchen and the ladies bathroom.

  He smiles to himself “No, we weren’t.” Is he thinking about all those times too? He picks up his coffee and finally faces me again. “So, how’s the head?” he asks casually as if that whole conversation never happens. All right, complete change of subject.

  I smile, even though I feel like crying. “Hurts.” Hurts is an understatement. A huge, huge, understatement. It actually feels like someone is repeatedly slamming my head against a wall. This conversation isn’t helping.

  “Not surprised, you were pretty wasted. Do you remember singing into your champagne glass?” My eyes widen. What? When did I do that? He bursts out laughing. “I’m kidding.” I let out a sigh of relief. God if I do that again I think Mum will actually kill me. The woman has no sense of humour at all. Hmm, I should get her drunk so she’ll remove the stick and lighten up a bit.

  “Not funny,” I say, slapping his arm playfully. He winces and rubs his arm, but we both know it didn’t hurt him. My Aden is back. Whoa, my Aden? He isn’t my Aden. I sigh. “So did you go home straight after you left my room?”

  “Err, yeah,” he mumbles, shifting on the sofa uncomfortably. Great trust me to make it awkward again. He looks at the floor, crewing on the side of his mouth. What does that mean? Either he left straight away, or he didn’t. I nod and let it go, deciding I’ll look like a stalker if I push it. “Like the outfit today, by the way.” I want to slap that sexy little amused smirk off his face.

  “Shut up,” I mumble, suddenly wishing that I’d put more thought into my choice of outfit. I’m hung over though so comfortable it is.

  He chuckles and looks me up and down. “I didn’t say you look bad.” Seeing the lust in his eyes makes me want to jump on him, but we aren’t doing that sort of thing anymore. Apparently. But if he doesn’t want to then why is he looking at me like he wants to rip my clothes off and fuck my brains out?

  “I should go,” I announce. Being around him is confusing and painful. I need to get away from him, clear my head and get over what we had – wild sex – so we can continue working together.

  “Already?” He frowns and his eyes look distant as if he’s having some internal debate. Yes, we can have sex one last time. “I’ll drive you home,” he finally says and stands up.

  “Thanks for the lift,” I say as we pull up outside my house. “I guess I’ll see you at work.” If I still have a job, that is.

  “Actually, I’ll see you at dinner tonight. Your mum’s invited me and my parents.” I gulp as I realise operation get Isabel married to Aden is underway. Fuck what if that’s why he ended it with me? What if he’s just blaming the boss/employee thing when it’s really because he’s marrying my sister? “Millie?” he says, frowning in my direction.

  Shit I’m still in his car. “See you tonight,” I mumble, jumping out of the car in a hurried daze. Way to make yourself look like a crazy person, Amelie.

  As I walk up the path the door flies open and Dad storms towards me. “Amelie, inside now,” he growls, nostrils flaring and forehead vein popping.

  “You know I’m an adult, right?” I say sarcastically.

  “Inside!” he snaps. Yeah, I really, really need to ge
t out of here soon. I stomp upstairs to my room, ignoring Mum and Dad moaning about everything that’s wrong with me – which is a lot, apparently.

  As soon as I’m in the safety of my own room, I grab my mobile, needing to speak to Will before I kill my parents. “I’m not talking to you,” he says down the phone. What happened to hello?

  “Well you’re not doing a very good job of it.”

  He chuckles down the line. “You haven’t called me in a week. I was starting to think you don’t love me anymore.” I can practically see his pout.

  “Stop being such a girl. I really need to talk to you,” I say, sighing and flopping down on my bed. I met Will at University; he’s from the same background as me but is embracing it. He likes the money and cars. Still, he isn’t stuck up.

  “Ah, the hot boss I’m guessing?”

  I groan and launch into everything, fully catching him up on the past weeks events. By the time I’m done he’s laughing down the phone. When did I miss the funny bit? “Just fuck him,” he says simply.

  “Fantastic advice, Will!” I reply sarcastically. “That’s what got us into this mess.”

  “Well you both obviously want to, so just jump him.”

  I slap my hand over my eyes. “Did you have a mental shutdown when I told you he said it couldn’t happen anymore?” How dumb is he? Aden made it pretty clear it won’t happen again, there were plenty of opportunities for it to have happened earlier and it didn’t. Will’s an idiot.

  “Ah denial.”

  I narrow my eyes even though he can’t see me. “I am not in denial!” I have no problem admitting I want to lock him in a sex dungeon and have my way with him whenever I want. By the time I hang up I wonder why I ever called him in the first place. Will’s advice usually was ‘just sleep with it’, so I don’t know why I even tried.