Chapter 2 : One Wrong Text #2

Red stared at her phone, hands trembling so badly she almost dropped it. The screen glowed in the dim light of her apartment, the message bubble from Mr. Alton floating and unfloating like some cruel game.

She smashed the ‘Delete for Me’ option, then desperately scrolled for a ‘Delete for Everyone’ button that didn't exist. She tried tapping, holding, even swiping, but the system just mocked her.

Her stomach knotted, tightening painfully. Her breath broke into frantic bursts as she paced her small apartment, wearing nothing but a bra and shorts. The fairy lights usually comforting her now felt harshly bright; the half-full glass of wine wobbled on the coffee table. This can't be happening.

She pressed the phone to her chest.

“No… please… no… What did I just do?!”

She had to get rid of it. Delete the message. Undo the mistake. But it was too late.

Alton had seen it.

The thought made her stomach churn. She could almost imagine the look on his; his piercing gaze, his furrowed brow, the way he would tilt his head in thought….

She broke down in a wail, how the hell did she make a stupid mistake like this?! Her mind raced through every scenario she could imagine. She could try to text Alton back, but what would she even say? “Oops, sorry, wrong person” felt laughable.

She wailed again, running her fingers through her hair. What if he fires her? What will she do then?

Her phone buzzed again. She picked it up with trembling hands, eyes reading the messages.

Alton: I'm outside your door. Open up.

“He’s WHAT?” she whispered hoarsely.

Alton Donovon is standing outside her apartment?! Her stomach lurched. There's no way. He's never stopped by her apartment before, how the hell did he know where she lived?

She ran to the peephole. There he was.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Lean, with that calm dominance that made people unconsciously step aside. Arms crossed, expression unreadable but the intensity of his gaze made Red’s pulse spike so hard she felt lightheaded.

‘This isn’t happening. He can’t be here! Why is he here?!’

Her hands trembled as she paced her door, biting her nails.

Another buzz. She glanced at her phone screen.

Alton: Don’t make me wait, Red.

Her throat went dry. She could barely breathe. Every instinct screamed at her to run, to hide, to pretend she wasn’t home. But she had survived Alton’s overbearing presence for five years. She had learned to navigate his moods, she could survive this too.

She'd have to stick to her story: it was a mistake, she didn't mean to send it to him. She'd apologise on her knees if she had to..

With shaking fingers, she unlocked the door and his eyes flickered up to meet hers.

Alton stepped in, forcing her to step back as he walked in, slamming the door behind him, gaze fixed on Red. “Is this some sort of game, Red?”

“G-Game? No!”

He got even closer, making her take a few steps back, heart pounding wildly in her chest as she stared up at him.

“That picture…was it meant for me?”

“No. Yes….No. I mean no! I didn't mean to send the picture to you, I…”

“You’re panicking,” he said flatly. His voice was calm, but somehow even that tone made her heart race. “Good.”

Red blinked at him, words failing. “There seems to be some misunderstanding… I..”

“ A misunderstanding?” He repeated.

Red swallowed. “Mr Alton, it's not what you think…I…”

He walked closer, forcing her to step back as his brow furrowed even deeper.

“It isn't what I think?”

“Yes. No. I mean..”

"Why did you send that?"

Red wrapped her arms around herself, trembling. "It was an accident, Mr. Alton. A complete accident. I was sending it to Darren, my..."

"Your ex boyfriend?” He cut her off.

Her eyes flicked open in shock, how did he know that? “You know him,” she said.

“Of course I know him.” He walked past her, examining her apartment with a quiet assessment that made her feel stripped bare. “He works for EversenTech, yes? Entry-level financial analyst. Mediocre performance reviews. That aside,” He stops to face her.“You're back with your ex?" He asked, his tone dipped in disbelief.

Red's stomach twisted. “No, we plan to talk things out tonight and his work has nothing to do with…”

He cuts her off again. “He’s an asshole. He's undeserving of you.”

Her brows furrowed, “What?” Who the hell does he think he is to tell her that? “With all due respect, sir, I don't think you have a say in who I choose to date!”

He smirked. “I don't. But you sure have a shitty taste in men. And do you truly expect me to believe you mixed up my name, Donovan Alton, with your boy toy's?"

Heat crashed into her cheeks. “It was a mistake!”

He took a step toward her. “Was it?”

“Yes!”

He took another step closer, close enough she could smell his cologne and it was intoxicating.

“Red.” He started “You expect me to believe you did not notice whose name you clicked?”

"Yes! I was rushing, I was tired. I barely saw your name, I just hit the first contact I meant to send it to…the message history is proof! I only ever text you about work!"

“Does your ex boyfriend know you're out here sending suggestive pictures to your boss at 11pm on a weekend?”

“What? No! I…”

"And yet," he took a slow step closer, forcing her back against the wall, " You did, moments after I detained you for hours. It looks rather intentional, Scarlett."

His use of her full name sent a shudder through her.

“I’m telling the truth,” she whispered.

“And I am telling you,” he countered, “I don’t believe you.”

Her nails bit into her palms. “Why would I send you something like that? Why would I risk my job?”

His eyes dragged slowly down her face, pausing at her mouth before returning to her eyes. Red felt suddenly, painfully aware of her breathing. Her heartbeat. Her skin. Shit, she's in nothing but her bra!

“My thoughts exactly,” he murmured. “One I intend to have answered.”

Before she could respond, he closed the distance in two long strides, hands catching her waist just long enough to lift her onto the dining table.

A soft sound left her throat, something stuck between nerves and something she didn’t want to name.

“W-what are you doing?” she whispered, voice trembling.

She sat there, breath unsteady, as he planted his hands on the table beside her thighs, caging her in without touching her.

“Giving you a chance,” he murmured, “to tell the truth while you’re not running away from me.”

Goodness, she could feel her twenty year old self crawl out from the closet she'd locked her in! The twenty year old that had a huge crush on her boss, long before she found out he was an asshole. Softing here with him this close, she's starting to understand why so many women wanted him.

His voice dropped low. “Do you realise you’re jeopardizing your job?”

“Yes.” Her voice trembled. “But it was a mistake.”

He leaned forward slightly, his face inches from hers. “Do you understand what kind of assumptions your boyfriend will make, if he ever learns you sent your boss a picture like that?”

“It wasn’t for you.”

“But I saw it.”

Her throat tightened.

“And now,” he said quietly, “we have to deal with that.”

She swallowed. Hard. “I’m not attracted to you.”

His brow lifted in a slow, cutting arc. “No?”

“No,” she insisted.

He tilted his head, studying her like she’d said the most illogical thing in the world. “How strange.”

“Wh..what?”

“That you tremble,” he murmured, “every time I step closer.”

“I’m not trembling.”

“You are.” His voice turned almost amused. “And that denial does not look good on you.”

Her breath stuttered when he reached out to tilt her chin up with a single fingertip, bringing her face toward his. Nails grazed wood as she gripped the edge of the table instinctively. Goodness, why is she just noticing how devastatingly handsome he was?

His thumb brushed along her jawline, slow and deliberate.

Her pulse leapt.

“You say I am not your type,” he said, voice low but sharp. “You say you feel nothing and that photo had no intention behind it.”

“It didn’t,” she whispered.

“And yet here you sit,” he murmured, leaning closer until she felt his breath on her lips, “unable to look away.”

“I’m not..”

“You are.” His thumb stilled at the corner of her mouth. “You look like a woman trying very hard not to want something.”

Her pulse thrummed against his hand.

She opened her mouth but words seemed to fail her, damn. She had words to say, she had a reply but with him this close, she can't seem to find them. His mouth hovered a breath from hers, not touching, just close enough that she felt the warmth of him and the foolish dangerous possibility…

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

“Red? Are you in?”

She froze, recognising that voice almost immediately. “Darren..”