Crossing the Line (4 page)

“It’s fine, Mum. I’ve got to go in early,
but I’ll get something else in a bit. I gotta go.”

“I need to leave,” she corrects, shaking
her head. That one wasn’t even on purpose either. I smile as I walk out and
then realise it’s not the best start to the new adult me. But surely if you
don’t have fun, even childish fun sometimes, you’ll just end up being sad and
boring.

I skip outside, feeling pretty good about
today but as soon as I turn the corner I freeze. No. Oliver’s car is parked in
front of mine. “Oliver!” I scream at the top of my lungs and run back in the
house. Not good. I need to leave in two minutes, or I’m going to be late. What
the hell is he doing here anyway? And why block my car?

I almost run into him as he walks towards
the front door. “What?” he asks, eyebrows pulled together in worry.

“You need to move your car. Now!”

“I would love to, Amelie, but it’s broken
down.” My heart stops.
 
“A mechanic
is on his way.”

“Well push it then,” I hiss. He rolls his
eyes and walks back into the house. I hate him.

I run to the cloakroom and grab the keys to
one of my Dad’s cars without looking at them. I have no idea which car they
belonged too, but I don’t care as long as it works. Dad has loads of cars all
lined up in a huge garage to the side of the house. I look down at the keys and
notice a Mercedes key ring on them. Okay he has three Mercedes cars, and they
are all parked beside each other. I check the locks, and it didn’t fit any of
them. I scream in frustration. Why me? Suddenly I realise what car it’s for.
No. Dad’s classic Mercedes. No, no, no! Oh God I don’t even have enough time to
go back to the house and get different keys.

I get into his car and just want to just
die. I look like a middle-aged man smack in the middle of his mid life crisis.
I drive to work with the roof down because I don’t know how to close it. If it
rains, I’m screwed. Thankfully he keeps his cars filled with petrol at all
times because I’m pretty sure I’ll never get petrol in it.

Everyone turns to look at me as I pull into
the car park. I look like I’m begging for attention in this stupid, classic
flashy car.
Just keep your head up and
walk fast.
Why did it have to be this one? All the other ones were fine,
and no one would have batted an eyelid, especially in this neighbourhood. I get
out, slamming the door a little harder than necessary and walk towards the
glossy looking building.

It’s no quieter inside even though I’m
earlier and I start to wonder if any of them actually leave. The glass lift
carries me and two other women up, and I feel like I should go again. They talk
quietly, discussing their day, and how one of them is almost making partner –
they must belong to the law firm. Although I’m happy to start at a PA level,
and lets face it it’s about where I belong right now, I can’t help wanting
more.

I get off at my floor and they stay on,
going higher, of course. “Millie.” I freeze when I hear that sexy voice. Aden
is leaning against the door of the kitchen looking so gorgeous in a black
three-piece suit that my mouth waters.

“Hi. Sorry I’m a little late.”

He shrugs. “You’re not. Thanks for coming
in early. Lets get started,” he says and walks off. Okay then.

We go back out, and he pushes the button
for the lift. I could have met him downstairs. This time we’re alone, and
there’s a cracking in the air. He glances at me, tilting his head to the side
and my lips part, heart races and stomach flutters. I want him. Right now
actually.

The ride is painful. I clench my fists
behind my back. His are shoved in his pockets as if he’s trying to stop himself
reaching out for me. He can feel it too. His eyes are wild. The lift comes to a
stop and the doors glide open.

Aden nods his head and I walk out first,
taking a deep breath. What was that? I stay half a step ahead as we walk
outside to the car park. My mind is still reeling. If the lift hadn’t stopped,
what would have happened? Would we have launched ourselves at each other?

“Whoa look at that,” he says, admiring my
Dad’s car. “Guess someone was feeling flashy today.” I laugh nervously and nod
once. It’s not because I was feeling flashy; I was feeling blocked in and
late!

We get in the car, and Aden explains we’re
going to an early meeting before going back to the office to do what we were
supposed to be doing. A band Aden wants to sign, who he was just supposed to
chat with today, wants his label, and not another one Aden was convinced they’d
choose.

I watch him drive with my tongue
practically hanging out. Lusting after him is pretty exhausting. We should just
shag and get the sexual tension out of the way, maybe then I’ll be able to
concentrate properly.

We pull into the car park of a small,
almost dingy looking pub. “This is where the meeting is?” I ask.

“This is their local, so I suggested
meeting here. The place isn’t open yet, but the manager lets them practice here
in the mornings. We’ll have some privacy for the meeting.”

“Ah so you’ve not brought me to a dive to
ply me with alcohol and take advantage of me in the bathroom,” I joke.

“Oh so the only way you’d sleep with me is
if you’re drunk?” he asks.

No. I say nothing.

He arches his eyebrow and chuckles. “You do
nothing for my ego.”

I follow him towards the front door. “Fine,
I wouldn’t need to be drunk. You’ll just have to ask me very nicely.”

He laughs fully and stops, turning to me.
“This is going to be very inappropriate, Millie.” My stomach clenches. “What if
I asked you right now?”

I take a deep breath, squirming and licking
my dry lips. Looking into his perfect blue eyes makes my blood boil. Desire
pools down south and I fight to breathe evenly. “Um…”

A big grin stretches across his face.
“That’s what I thought.” He walks inside the pub, and I want to throw one of
the discarded, broken chairs that are laying on the floor at him. He’s an
arsehole. I want to leave and go back to the office, but I don’t want him to
win. I’m going to make him ask. No, I’m going to make him
beg
.

I walk in, and the inside of the pub is
depressing, dark and dated with mismatch tables and chairs. Aden’s watching the
band play in the corner of the room. There’s three of them, all very rock band
looking with messy but stylish hair, tattoos and either in ripped or skinny
jeans. I turn my attention back to my boss, and I swoon. I’m absolutely sure
he’s the most gorgeous man on the planet. Aden looks up, seeming to sense I’m
watching him, and smirks, obviously pleased with himself. Well two can play
that game.

When he turns his attention back to the
band, I undo one more button, showing off a little more cleavage. I make a
mental note to do it back up before we get back to the office; it was fine for
being out but not for being in that intimidatingly professional building. I
fluff my hair and step beside him.

Aden does a double take, his eyes settling
on my missing button, and I’m the one smirking. “They’re good,” I say, keeping
my eyes on the band. I think I hear a groan, but I can’t be sure. Professional
Amelie is long gone again.

Once the band finishes their song, they
step forwards, grinning from ear to ear as they shake Aden’s hand. He
introduces me to Lago – I’m not told the story behind that one –
Todd and Jake, and we sit down at a table that’s sticky with what I truly hope
is spilt beer.

I notice a few more things about Aden while
he chats animatedly with the three band members of Slate. He has the smallest
dimple that appears on his left cheek when he really smiles; you wouldn’t
notice unless you were studying him hard, and I am. His smile is ever so
slightly crooked; the dimple side gets a little higher. And he talks with his
hands when he’s passionate about something.

There’s not much for me to see or do, only
make a few light notes about studio time and the band’s direction, but I’m more
than happy to take a back seat and see my boss in action.

After the meeting, we head back to the
office. “Happy?” I ask as his smile widens, and I see that dimple. Now I know
it’s there I see it more and more.

“Very. We should celebrate. I’ve not got
any appointments for the rest of the day, have I?”

“Nope, nothing.” I confirm, mentally
patting myself on the back for double-checking his diary on my blackberry on
the way over here.

“Good. I thought I’d lose that band to a
bigger record but, thankfully, they’ve picked us. That deserves celebrating.”

“Well then, celebrating it is,” I reply and
grin.

“Great. So strip club?” I blink slowly and
wait for the punch line. He laughs. “I’m kidding, Millie. Unless, of course,
you want to?” How about we go back to your place and I give you a private
dance? Now that would be tragic.

I bite my lip, squeeze my thighs together
and force the lustful thoughts out of my head. “Sure, there’s a male strip club
across town,” I say, shrugging.

“I’m not gay.”

“I’m not a lesbian.”

“Well how about we go back to mine? I have
some disgusting champagne that my mother bought me when I moved in.” He
suddenly looks worried, like he’s realised he’s overstepped the mark by
inviting me to his place. “Or we could go to a bar if you’d prefer?”

“No, your place is fine,” I reply a little
too quickly.

He glances at me and smirks before turning
his attention back to the road. I groan internally and look out of the side
window before I embarrass myself further. As he drives I try to concentrate on
not making a fool of myself while my heart flutters uncontrollably. I think I
like him.

We pull into his drive, and his house is
modest. Detached with a high fence framing it, long stone driveway that could
fit about six cars and a double garage. Very modest for what I’m used to. I
think I like that house too.

I follow him inside and realise the modesty
stops at the threshold. Everywhere is white and open planned so you can see
almost the whole of downstairs from one spot. A random half wall with modern
fireplace separates the kitchen and dining area from the lounge.

The kitchen itself is all stainless steel
with built in appliances, so there are just straight lines everywhere. On the
wall is a screen which Aden presses and the fire – fake fire then –
turns on. Okay wow. The kitchen and living room looks up to the roof, and I can
just about see a balcony from where I’m standing. I guess the bedrooms are up
there. Wow again.

“Champagne?” he asks, walking to the
kitchen.

I follow. “Please.” I stand by the long
dining table and turn to look at the fire. I gasp as I see a piano – a
mini grand; I think – stuck to the wall, high above head level. How
does that even stay there?
 
“Seriously?” I say as I gawp up at it.

Behind me, I hear the sound of clinking
glasses and Aden’s laughter. “I love the piano.”

“Yes but surely to play it you need it on
the floor? Unless you can defy gravity?”

He pops the cork. “I have one I can play in
the leisure room, along with a drum kit and guitars. This piano I rescued from
a tip a year ago. I had it refurbished, although it’s gutted inside, and hung
on the wall.

He pours us two very large glasses of
champagne and hands me one, clinking his glass against mine. The sexual tension
is back with a vengeance. It suddenly feels very hot in here and not because of
the fire. I gulp and take a small sip, unable to keep my eyes off him.

An hour later, and I’m a little drunk. My
head is swimming, and everything is funny. Aden is just as bad, though, so I
don’t care. We’re having fun.

“So, Millie, what do you want to do next?”
he asks, slurring my name. We are both sitting on one of the huge brown leather
sofas. He’s slouched back, and his head is facing me, making me feel
self-conscious but on top of the world at the same time. I’ve had enough drink
to tell him exactly what I want to do next, but I’m also sober enough to know
that it’s probably not the best idea.

I shrug one shoulder lazily and reply,
“Whatever you want. I don’t mind.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” he mumbles. The
temperature soars another few thousand degrees and my heart leaps out of my
chest. He’s staring at me as if I’m the answer to everything. His deep blue
eyes pierce into me making me feel as if I’m weightless. He sighs, rubbing his
hands over his face and pushes himself up. Moment over. “Pool?”

Pool? Do I look like I want to play fucking
pool? “Yeah okay,” I reply quietly.

He grabs another bottle of vodka from the
fridge on the way to one of the doors on the right side of the house. I’ve not
been given the tour, but I know behind one of those flush to the wall white
doors is a bathroom. The other two are a mystery. Leisure room, probably.

“Come on then.” I walk ahead of him to
where’s nodded, last door. I’m right, his leisure room. Aden bumps into me as I
halt just inside the door, his arm shoots around my waist to steady me, even
though I wasn’t stumbling.