LINES I SHOULDN'T CROSS

Aaron's POV

What the fuck.

What the actual fuck.

It was going to be easy.

I just had to just ignore him — pretend he wasn't even standing there, stuff all of those memories back in that locked little box I'd been pounding shut for six years.

But since when has Ethan Banks ever been the kind of guy you can ignore?

I sat across from him behind the conference table while he listened to Maxwell, one of my shrewdest analysts, talk about Q4 expectations. He was focused, nodding, pen tapping against his pad.

I wished I could despise him for how intent he was.

But I couldn't.

Not when my heart was pounding out of time in my chest just for having him in the same room.

Not when he looked like that.

God, how was he even in New York?

When he had crashed into me three weeks ago in the lobby, coffee spilling everywhere, it had taken every bit of myself not to grab him there, not to slam my lips into his like I used to.

Things have changed.

I am no longer the foolish young man that I used to be.

I am not the man who would risk everything for a few more stolen moments with the boy I couldn't stop thinking about.

I am a man with secrets now. Lies that have kept me alive. Lies that keep this company standing. And if Ethan started digging — if Connor started digging — if his parents even suspected—

No.

I couldn't let that happen.

I never thought I'd be standing eyeball to eyeball with him again. Never thought I'd share the same air with him, sniff out the light mix of soap and shampoo I used to know so well.

And yet there he was.

Taller.

Older.

Not the boy I left behind.

He had a faint shadow of stubble along his jaw, curls shorter than they once were, but still wild enough to accentuate his face. His mouth — Lord, his mouth — was still plump and pouting, his lower lip still the one that I would suck between my teeth until he moaned my name.

And that frame. Lean, muscular, his shirt fitting just so.

I could feel my cock grow hard under my table in my pants, swelling with humiliating speed, and I had to slouch slightly in my chair.

No.

I couldn't keep him around.

I couldn't let him linger long enough to start questioning me.

And he would — Ethan was curious, persistent, relentless.

And if his family got wind of what went down in our history.

Connor would kill me. His parents would make sure Ethan never got near me again.

Hell, they’d probably sue me into oblivion just for the principle of it.

I couldn’t risk it.

I glanced at him again, and the years between us collapsed like they’d never been there at all.

Memory hit me like a brick.

The last night we’d been together — his hands clutching at my shoulders, his body warm and tense against mine.

"You're mine, Banks. You're fucking mine — this body, this voice, this heart — it's all mine."

His harsh laughter in my ear. His hair tangled in my fingers. The way he'd looked at me, eyes wide with fear but still inviting me in, still opening himself up to me.

I'd tucked those recollections away for six years.

But now they were present, alive and aflame, and I couldn't hide them.

Not with him so near I could hear the soft scratch of his pen on paper.

Not when every glance at his hands reminded me of what those hands did to me.

Slow, polite applause rose all over the room and jolted me back to reality.

Shit. Was he already done with the presentation?

I hadn't heard a damn thing he'd said.

I'd need to get my assistant to forward me the rundown later, as my brain was cooked at the time.

I cleared my throat, willing my face into its usual mask of boredom.

"Good," I told them in a matter-of-fact tone. "Everyone is dismissed for a fifteen-minute break."

Chairs scraped back. Papers shuffled. People got up and filed one by one out of the room.

"Except you, Mr. Banks."

He stopped halfway out.

Then turned slowly.

"Yes, Mr. Warner?"

My dick strained just hearing my name on his lips.

I gritted my teeth, jamming my face into the cold, bitter expression I'd perfected years before.

"This is a big company, Banks," I said to him, my tone taut, professional, cold. "And we don't tolerate mediocrity. I want your complete project review on my desk tomorrow morning. And it'd better blow me away — or get your ass outta here."

His eyes widened, those green-brown irises flashing sunlight through leaves, and for a moment — just one moment — I saw the pain there.

The familiarity of that look twisted in my chest like a knife.

"Mr. Warner," he started slowly, "I just started today. I barely have a notion what's going on. Couldn't I at least have a week before—

You were here, weren't you?" I cut him off, my voice firm. "You listened in. You heard what Maxwell and Cheryl said to you. Follow them if you have to. Ask them questions. Make a file and leave it on my desk tomorrow morning."

His eyes creased, his entire frame stiffening like a cornered animal considering the choice to fight or flee.

"Your inability to have done this by tomorrow," I continued mercilessly, "may result in the loss of your employment."

A silence of a few moments.

Then he rose to his feet and replied quietly, "Yes, sir."

The words flashed through me like a spark of electricity.

Why did he need to say it in that voice?

"Go away," I snarled, before I could insult.

He nodded once and left, the door clicking shut behind him.

I sat there, gripping the table's edge so hard my knuckles turned white.

He had not called me out on my garbage.

Hadn't asked me why.

Why I disappeared. Why I abandoned him. Why I never called.

Why I broke his heart.

Didn't he care anymore?

Did he hate me that much that he wouldn't even bother asking?

Or worse, had life beat the fight out of him so badly that he was just used to swallowing whatever anybody fed him?

The thought made my stomach curl.

Made me want to march out there and drag him in here, slam him against the wall, tell him to care.

But I didn't.

I sat back in the chair, my heart pounding in my ears, and cradled the erection that had

been straining against my zipper for the last twenty minutes.

No.

I couldn't let him stay here.

He had to go before he shattered me wide open all over again.