Crossing the Line (17 page)

“Okay, can you pass me all the alcohol we
have out here,” Danny asks.

All the alcohol? At the end of the table is
about five or six bottles of spirits and two bottles of rose wine chilling in a
bucket of ice. Danny starts tipping way too much of the spirits into the
pitcher. All the bottles? Oh, crap, it’s a shove anything and everything in
kind of cocktail.

“Regretting your stubbornness?” Aden asks,
smirking.

So there’s no way I’m going to admit that
to him. “Nope. Actually I can’t wait.” He’s the one that will have to look
after me when I’m puking up the lining of my stomach, so the joke is on him.

When the sweet chilli dip goes in too, I
start to
really
worry. They seriously
drink this? My eyes flick to Aden, who’s sitting back in his chair with a
cocky, amused grin. I have two choices. One, refuse the drink and take the
smugness from Mr know it all. Two, drink the crap and shove said smugness in
his face. Of course, I choose option two.

Danny mixes the so-called cocktail with a
kebab skewer and pours me a small glass. Thank God it’s a small glass. “Here,
enjoy,” he says as he pours the crap for the others.

Aden grabs my hand as I raise the glass to
my lips. “Millie, you don’t have to.”

“Are you going to?”

“Yes, it’s our tradition. You don’t have
to, though.” I frown. If it’s a tradition, then I want to do it. I want to be
involved as much as the rest of them. Hopefully I’ll be with Aden for a long
time, so I take my drink from his hand and down a mouthful.

Their tradition can go fuck itself. I gag
as the messed up crap burns all the way down my throat. Not making a face is
impossible. I had hoped that I could pretend I like it but that idea goes to
hell the second it rapes my taste buds.

“There’s something wrong with you all.” I
wave my hand at them and gulp the last of my woo woo to mask the taste. It
doesn’t work. “You’re all sick.” His friends laugh, even though they groan in
protest too.

“Aww, my little lightweight,” Aden whispers
in my ear, with a sexy low chuckle that makes the hairs on the back of my neck
stand up. His lightweight. I like the sound of that. Unless he thinks he owns
me. If he thinks that, he can go play with the traffic.

“Shut up, Aden,” I mumble. “Do I sound
weird?” I open my mouth. “Is my tongue swelling?” I will never drink a shove it
all in cocktail again.

He laughs and shakes his head. “You always
sound weird, but your tongue is fine.” He lowers his voice and adds, “Perfect
when it’s flicking my-”

“Yes okay!” I snap, slapping his chest to
shut him up.

“So, Millie,” James says. “What are your
intentions with our friend?” Aden glares and James holds his hands up. “This is
what friends are supposed to do so suck it up.”

“Well I’m thinking I’ll marry and stay with
him until he can no longer get it up. Then I’ll divorce his erectile
dysfunctional arse, take half of everything he owns and use the money to open
male strip clubs up and down the country.”

James, along with the rest of the table
laughs. “I like this one.”

“This one? How many have there been?” I
ask.

“Ah you want to know his number?” Marcus
says.

“Shut the fuck up, man,” Aden snaps. I love
seeing him like this, relaxed and yelling at his friends while they tease him.
It’s a gulf of a difference to how he is when we’re at dinners with our
families.

I turn to him and pout. “I don’t think he
should shut up.”

“Of course you don’t. Another word from you
lot and I’ll start talking about Tenerife.”

Marcus, James, and Danny look away. Damn he
has something over them.

“Hey,” Sophie shouts. “If you’re not
telling us you’re not allowed to bring it up. Ever.”

“We’re not telling so, Aden, pass the
vodka, this needs something,” Danny says, picking up his awful everything
cocktail. I turn my nose up as Aden reaches across, kissing the side of my head
at the same time. That cocktail, if you can even call it that, definitely
doesn’t need anything else.

“Aden,” I mumble, lifting my head up. Hmm,
I’m lying down. Where did he go anyway? I want to lift my head up, but I don’t
have the energy. We’re in his room. Huh, how did we get back here?

My hair moves on its own, and I freeze.
What the…? “I’m here,” Aden whispers into my ear.

Breathing a big sigh of relief, I relax and
melt into his chest. “Oh you moved my hair.”

He chuckles. “Who did you think it was?”

“I didn’t think it was anyone.”

“What?”

Groaning, I roll onto my side so I can see
him. “No one. A ghost.” I shake my head. “I don’t know. I’m still half asleep.”

“A ghost?” His face lights up in amusement.

“Take a walk, Aden.” He laughs and kisses
my forehead. “How did we get here?”

“Taxi. You slept the whole way.” I don’t
remember much past everything cocktail round two. Surprisingly, though, I’m not
feeling too bad.

“Oh. Take your top off.”

“What? I think you’re still too drunk for
that.”

“I’m not too drunk to perv on you. Off.”
Again, he laughs but removes his shirt and jeans. “That’s better.” I love when
I can feel his soft skin against mine. Aden pulls the cover back and rolls me
underneath it before snuggling up next to me. “Do you think your friends like
me then?”

“Definitely. They love you.” That’s good.
I’m more interested in how Aden feels about me, though. Should I just tell him
I love him and if he doesn’t say it back I can just blame the drink? I should.
No. What if he doesn’t say it back? My heart sinks. I could blame it on the
drink, but I’m not ready to not hear it back.

Sighing, I snuggle closer into his chest,
breathing in his smell that makes me never want to leave. “That’s good.”

“What?”

I frown against his pecks. Mmm, nice chest.
“What, what?”

“Your deep, something’s wrong sigh.”

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just tired.”

“Okay,” he murmurs against my forehead. “Tell
me later, sleep now.” Tell him later? I will, just much, much later.

Chapter Seventeen

I groan into the too fluffy, will suffocate
you if you lay face down on it too long pillow and push myself up. My face is
still printed into it, and I long to be asleep again. “Aden,” I mumble,
squinting my eyes. Everything’s blurry and moving very slightly on its own. My
head pounds at the movement. Water, I need water. I need the tap.
Must find kitchen.

Aden’s bed is huge, and the journey to the
side takes two rolls. My next problem is standing up. Swinging my legs over the
side, I sit on the edge and close my eyes, getting used to being vertical. This
would be so much easier if the fucking room will stay still.

“Aden?” I call louder. Where is he anyway?

After another minute, the arsehole still
hasn’t come to help me, so I stand carefully. The walls tilt, and I freeze.
Alcohol is evil. Stumbling towards the door, I hold my hands out to the sides
to steady myself. I’m never drinking again – for at least a week anyway.

Of course, he walks into the room as I’m
stumbling towards the door with my arms out. “Going for a fly?” he asks,
grinning. Even with slightly blurred vision I can still see the amusement glow
in his sexy blue eyes.

“No.” I sigh. “I’m just trying to walk.”

“Well, as funny as this is to watch,
breakfast’s ready.” He steps forward and kisses my forehead. “Let’s get you
downstairs.” I’m very gently lifted up, and he carries me downstairs. I love it
when he’s being sweet, rather than teasing. “Suffering today?”

“Yes. Why aren’t you?” He was drunk too.

“I have this thing in my head that tells me
when to stop. Something you seem to be missing.” I scoff. Cocky bastard. “I’ll
look after you until you feel better.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Why? What do you
want?”

“I want my girlfriend to feel better,
Millie. No ulterior motives, I promise.”

“That’s sweet.” He called me his girlfriend
again. I swoon inside. “Aden, do you ever think this is going to all go
horribly wrong.”

He puts me down on one of the kitchen chairs
and frowns. “Go wrong? What do you mean?”

Shrug and chew on my lip. Okay, this is
awkward. “Us.”

“No,” he replies without missing a beat.
“You clearly do, though.”

“I don’t know. It’s just that… Well, I’m me
and if you haven’t already noticed I don’t really have that much good luck.
Things go wrong in spectacular ways that usually just makes people laugh at me,
you mostly, but if this goes wrong it won’t be funny. Not at all.”

He drops to his knees in front of me, so
we’re level. “Nothing’s going to go wrong, Millie. No one can make us break
up.”

“But what if people found out sooner and
your reputation was blown to shit.”

With a little smirk, he replies, “Then it’s
blown to shit. Stop worrying so much. If people find out then they find out. I
would prefer it when everything’s sorted out and stable but if not then I’ll
deal with the looks and backstabbing.”

People are bitchy and would love a scandal
like the sexy CEO of the ‘up and coming’, fresh, new record label bedding his
PA after five minutes. It’s something that my mother would gossip with her
friends about for hours. I want the press surrounding Aden to be about how well
his business is doing, not about him sleeping with his employee. At least after
another month we can say we’ve been together for a little while, and that
should stop the affair rumour mill.

“You’re right. I just don’t want to mess
anything up for you. And I definitely don’t want this to end.”

Aden reaches out tucks my bed hair behind
my ear. Good luck taming it. “I definitely don’t want it to end either. It’s
not going to happen, no matter what goes on. Okay? I’ve grown quite attached to
you and your craziness.”

I grin. “Back at ya.”

He stands and gestures to the food laid out
on the table. “Good. Now eat something and soak up some of that alcohol. If you
want, you can stay here today.”

I shake my head. “No, I’ll go to work too.
I don’t want any special treatment just because we’re together.” Aden nods and
poured me a mug of coffee. He’s made sausages, eggs, bacon, beans and toast for
breakfast. Definitely what I need after a night of drinking. He knows me so
well.

We arrive at work an hour late, but that
doesn’t matter because Aden is the boss and can pretty much turn up whenever
the hell he wants to. “Want me to go in first?” I ask as he pulls into his
parking space.

He frowns. “No, but…”

“But I should or it’ll look bloody obvious
that we spent the night together?”

“Something like that. I’m sorry.”

I shrug. “It’s fine.”

“I’ve actually need to go make an
appointment with the bank manager so I’ll pop into town for a bit.”

“Hey, there’s these things now called
phones, right, and you can call peop-”

“Yes, thank you, Millie. It’s an excuse
delay checking the thousands of emails I’ll probably have too. I’ll pick up
some doughnuts from that bakery you like and make the appointment in person.
Not enough people talk face to face now.”

I roll my eyes. “You sound like my dad, old
man. See you in a bit then.” I get out of the car and lean down, looking at
him. “Raspberry jam in the doughnuts.” He salutes with a cheeky smile on his
face and reverses the car.

I make my way into the tall building
without looking back at him. The weekend has mostly been amazing. Well, Sunday
was anyway. No amount of time with him is enough. I always want more. It’s a little
hard when I live at my parents’, though. Moving out needs to happen soon. I’d
love for us to be at mine, we can walk around naked and have long showers
together.

Once I’m in my office, I log onto the
computer and wait for it to load. “Good morning, Amelie,” Samia says politely
as she pokes her head around the door.

“Hi, Samia, how was your weekend?”

“Good, thank you.” She steps into the room.
“And yours?”

I grin, remembering just how good Aden was
in the bath. “Really good.”

“Is Aden in yet?”

“No, he has an appointment. He should be
back in an hour or so. Can I help with anything?”

“I just need him to sign off a few things.
The studio needs paying by the end of the day.” She bites her lip and frowns.
Chill, love, he’ll be back soon.
She
worries about everything.

“Do you want me to call him? Maybe I could
sign whatever you need?”

Her face lights up. “Thanks, that would be
great.”

I dial Aden’s number, and he picks up
straight away. “Miss me already?” he teases. I want to reply and have a full on
flirting session, but I can’t with an audience.

“Hi. Samia is here with some invoices for
studio time. It needs paying today, can I sign it or should we wait until
you’re back?”

“Oh. Yeah, you can sign. Just make sure
they’re invoicing our usual rates, okay?”

“Sure, okay.”

“Thanks, beautiful,” he says in his
smoother than silk tone. “See you soon.” Aw. He hangs up, and I try to not
smile. It’s hard.

“I can sign.” Samia sighs in relief and
walks to my desk, handing me the invoices. There’s a little box stamped on the
front of the invoice with ‘Authorised Signature’ written in capital letters.
Wow, I’m authorised to pay stuff.

So, how much is our usual rate? I have no
clue if this is what we’re usually charged. “Um, Samia, is this what we pay?” I
ask quietly, embarrassed that I don’t know and make a mental note to get Aden
to go through rates so I can make a list for future reference.

“Yes,” she replies. I scribble my signature
on them and hand them back. “Thanks, Amelie, I’ll get these scanned and emailed
to accounts.” I nod, having no clue what she was supposed to do with them after
they’re signed either.

“You’re welcome,” I reply.

After Samia closes my door behind her I
check my emails, and I’m delighted to find one from Renee, titled ENJOY with an
attachment. Aden’s strip dance! I literally bounce in my seat as I press play
and wait.

The first thing that comes on the screen is
a stage with drawn-back red velvet curtains. I squeal. I hear muffled voices as
the audience talk among themselves, and I just about make out Sophie’s voice,
asking who must have been Renee if it’s definitely recording.

And then the lights turn off, and music
turns on. I laugh, biting my lip as the anticipation almost kills me. Four
suited men walk onto stage, and I spot Aden immediately. He’s on the far left
and from his lopsided smile, I guess he’s had a few drinks beforehand. Wise
choice when you’re about to get your kit off in front of a room full of people.

If he walks in now I don’t think I’ll be
able to turn it off, and I don’t even care. The four men, seconds from
humiliation, strut forwards and thrust their hips in time with the music, and I
lose it. I press my fist to my mouth, laughing as they rip open their jackets
and let them slide to the floor.

Tears roll down my face, and they’re not
even naked yet. One of them – the one I don’t know – bites his lip
a lot and makes a face as if he’s pretending to be a tiger. He is the one that
will now have the most shame.

My eyes flick back to the man I woke up
beside this morning. He moves well, which I’m not sure if that’s a good thing
or not. He thrusts his hips again, and it reminds me of last night. Oh my God
I’m getting turned on watching this! What’s wrong with me?

Next to come off, in a spectacular manner
is their shirts, which are literally ripped off and thrown into the screaming
audience – probably consisting mostly of middle-aged women. I stare at
his chest, and muscular arms and drool over how they flex and bunch as he
moves.

A chorus, well screams, of ‘take ‘em off’
drowns out Lady Marmalade, and the men reach for their trousers. They must be
the kind that Velcro up because they come off with one pull. They’re thrown
into the audience too and there he is, the man I’m not sure if I should be
going off or jumping on, standing on stage, wiggling his naked arse in a sparky
red thong.

I slam my head down on the table as the
hysteria takes over. My stomach quickly screams in protest, but it’s too funny
to stop laughing, no matter how hard I try. The image of them with their back
to the crowd, arses on show for all too see is forever burned into my memory.

I lay doubled over the desk, holding my
burning stomach, laughing until my make-up runs and I no longer make a sound.
Part of me – a really big part – wants to watch it again and again
and again. But it hurts. And I don’t know when Aden will be back. How am I
going to look him in the eye now?

It takes me a good five minutes to compose
myself. My jaw is aching from laughing so much. I run my fingers under my eyes
to clean up any mascara – bet I look like a panda. Okay I need to do
something.

That something is snooping. I don’t really
know too much about the running of the business, but I should, right? It’s
embarrassing that I’m the CEO’s PA but don’t know how things are done. Where to
start, though? Aden’s office will probably be the best place.

I walk through and unlock the large filing
cabinet. The first file I grab is labelled, Rejections. Hmm, that sounds like a
depressing folder, or a funny one. Sitting on Aden’s big, leather chair, I
start reading. On the first page is the name of a band ‘Death Dogs’ and some
details of them. A red stamp confirms their submission tape has rejected and
either destroyed or returned – it didn’t say which, but I doubt it would
have been returned.

“You know that’s confidential, right?”
Aden’s voice makes me jump in his seat. Whoops, I’ve been caught. He closes the
door and makes his way towards me, slowly, stalking me as if I’m his prey. My
heart rate spikes at the look in his eye. Oh he’s not mad…

I drop the file and stand up. I should say
something, but my mind is blank. I’ve forgotten what I’ve done and pretty much
everything else too – I’m sure I have a name.

“Bend over the desk,” he says, still
stalking his way closer.

I deadpan. “Excuse me?” I don’t know what he’s
on right now, but if he thinks he’s hitting me I’m punching him in the face.
Children get spanked – or they did when it wasn’t so frowned upon. Adults
talk, shout and/or fuck it out.

He laughs, eyes glittering with amusement.
“I don’t mean like that. I’m going to take you from behind. Bend over.”

I gulp as hot lava pools in my belly. “Oh.
Well that’s okay then.” That is definitely okay. I walk to the front of his
desk, bend over and look back at him. Right so this is a little awkward. I mean
I’m pretty comfortable with him, but still, a bit awkward. He doesn’t seem to
think so; a bulge is quickly forming trousers that are soon yanked down.

I turn back around and my pulse races. I
quite like it when he’s bossy too. Biting my lip, I close my eyes and wait.
He’s behind me; I can feel him even though he’s not touching me yet. My heart
flutters. He’s making me wait.
I’m way
more stubborn than you, buddy, so don’t even try that one.