Lines We Shouldn’t Cross
669 Words
The office felt colder that morning, though the sun gleamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Wolfe Enterprises. Zara sat at her desk with her arms folded tightly, her fingers tapping against her bicep in rapid succession. She hadn’t slept much the night before—thoughts of Aiden Wolfe had made sure of that.
Not just the infuriating version of him who gave curt commands and challenged her at every turn, but the version who had stood close to her during last night’s board presentation, his breath brushing her skin as he murmured quietly, “You did good, Zara.”
That tiny, unexpected praise had clung to her like static.
And now… now she couldn’t focus.
Across the floor, Aiden’s glass-walled office was both too close and too far. She could see his silhouette through the tinted glass, broad shoulders framed in a crisp charcoal suit, head tilted down as he reviewed some documents. The image was too put-together. Too in control.
She hated that she noticed him like this.
“Zara,” Maya’s voice sliced through the silence, startling her. “Are you okay?”
Zara blinked. “Yes. Fine.”
Maya didn’t look convinced, but she nodded and slipped away. Zara exhaled, then stood up abruptly. If she was going to get any work done, she needed coffee—and distance.
The elevator ride to the café in the lobby was uneventful until the doors slid open and she stepped out—right into Aiden Wolfe.
Of course.
He looked like he’d been heading up to his office. His brows rose slightly when he saw her, as if he hadn’t expected to run into her outside the confines of corporate formality.
She stepped aside quickly. “Excuse me,” she murmured, brushing past him.
“Zara.”
The way he said her name—low, quiet—made her stop.
“I think we need to talk,” he added, his voice softer than she’d ever heard it.
Her heartbeat thudded in her ears. “About what? Yesterday’s presentation?” she asked, too quickly.
He studied her. “About the fact that something’s shifting between us. And it’s messing with both our heads.”
Zara crossed her arms, a defense mechanism she didn’t even try to hide. “We work together. That’s it.”
“Is it?” he asked, stepping closer. “Because I remember your eyes during that meeting. The way you smiled after it was over. And I know what I felt.”
Zara’s voice lowered. “It doesn’t matter what you felt. You’re my boss, Aiden.”
“I’m still a man,” he said evenly. “And you’re a woman who challenges me every damn day.”
She looked away. “This isn’t how it works.”
“No,” he agreed. “It’s not. But I didn’t expect you, Zara. I didn’t expect someone who could pull me out of routine and make me question boundaries I’ve always kept firm.”
Her throat felt tight. “You think saying that makes it easier for me?”
“No,” he said. “But pretending like this doesn’t exist between us doesn’t help either.”
They stood there, silent, in the polished marble hallway of a corporate building—two professionals caught in a messy storm of personal emotions. Anyone walking by might have thought they were talking business.
But there was nothing professional about the way Aiden looked at her.
Zara forced herself to take a breath. “This… whatever this is… it can’t happen.”
Aiden’s jaw flexed, but he nodded. “Fine. We go back to being strictly professional.”
“Good,” she said, her voice sounding more strained than firm.
He turned to leave, and she stayed frozen in place, watching his retreating back until he disappeared into the elevator.
Strictly professional.
The words echoed in her mind like a hollow promise. Because deep down, both of them knew—it was already far too late for that.
- Writer
