The CEO Secret First Love

pov : Ethan Cole Their faces were so close that Ethan could feel every warm breath from Adrian against his mouth. Adrian’s hand slid up the side of his neck, fingers pressing into his skin, holding him still in the dark. Ethan’s heart slammed so hard against his ribs it hurt. This was the moment he had locked away for years the one he never let himself reach for in the light. He leaned in. Their lips met. The first touch was slow and careful, almost shy, as if neither of them believed it was real. Then Adrian’s mouth moved with quiet strength, firm and sure. Ethan parted for him and felt the warm slide of tongue. A soft sound broke from his throat before he could stop it. Adrian answered by deepening the kiss, tilting his head and pulling him closer until their chests pressed tight. Bodies locked together. Ethan’s hands found Adrian’s waist and gripped hard, fingers digging into soft fabric. Adrian bit lightly at his lower lip just enough to sting in the best way. Heat rushed through Ethan like fire. He kissed back harder, matching the sudden hunger, tasting coffee and faint mint. Adrian’s other hand cupped the back of his head, fingers sliding deep into his hair, keeping him exactly where he wanted him. The kiss turned messy and urgent. Open mouths. Shared breath. The quiet wet sound of them moving together in the dark. Ethan felt every shift of Adrian’s heavy body against his own, every line of muscle, every quick pulse. He never wanted it to stop. He wanted to drown in it forever. “Ethan. Wake up.” The voice cut through the heat like cold steel. Ethan’s eyes snapped open. The dream shattered. Soft grey morning light filled the room. Adrian stood beside the bed in a perfect charcoal suit, tie knotted, dark hair combed back without a single strand out of place. Hands in his pockets. Face calm. As if he had been waiting there for twenty minutes. Ethan sat up slowly. The phantom warmth of that mouth still burned on his skin. He dragged both palms hard down his face, trying to scrub the dream away. “What time is it?” His voice came out rough. “Five-forty.” Adrian glanced at the silver watch on his wrist. “Flight leaves at seven-thirty. Move.” Ethan stared at him. “You could have just called.” Adrian raised one dark eyebrow. “You never answer when you’re fully asleep. I’ve tried.” “So you drove across town?” “I wasn’t leaving our departure to anyone else.” His tone made it sound ordinary. “Ten minutes. I’ll be downstairs.” He turned and left, closing the door with a soft click. Ethan sat on the edge of the mattress a moment longer, heart still racing. He forced himself up, stepped into an ice cold shower, and scrubbed until the heat of the dream faded. He dressed quickly white shirt, dark trousers, navy tie grabbed his packed suitcase, and stepped outside. The black town car waited at the curb. Ethan slid into the back seat. Adrian sat in the far corner, iPad open, financial reports beside him. He didn’t look up. “Did you pack the revised presentation files?” “Yes. Updated balance sheets are in my brief. Three hard copies of the acquisition contracts. And the extra laptop charger you always forget in your office drawer.” Adrian’s thumb paused. “I don’t always forget it.” “Chicago last month. Boston the week before.” Adrian unzipped the small bag at his feet. Before he could reach inside, Ethan leaned over and tapped the navy folder. “Passport’s right there. Boarding pass clipped to the top. You’re good.” Adrian looked at Ethan’s hand, then at his face. “I already checked.” “I know,” Ethan said softly, pulling back. “I still look anyway.” Adrian zipped the bag shut and returned to his tablet. The car pulled into thin morning traffic. They rode in the easy silence that only years of shared space could create. Ethan flagged priority messages on his work phone. Every few minutes he felt Adrian’s eyes shift sideways, watching his fingers to make sure nothing urgent slipped past. It was second nature. Ethan knew the exact moment Adrian needed water in a meeting. Adrian knew exactly how Ethan took his tea when stress tightened his shoulders. The routine was seamless. For Ethan, it was also a quiet daily torture. At JFK they moved through priority security without trouble. As they reached the executive lounge doors, Adrian’s hand caught Ethan’s elbow light but firm enough to stop him. “You didn’t eat.” Ethan looked down at the fingers on his sleeve, then up into dark eyes. “I’m fine. I’ll get something on the plane.” Adrian’s brow furrowed. “Plane food is terrible and you know it.” He walked toward the small café without waiting for an answer. Ethan sat in a quiet booth by the windows. A few minutes later Adrian returned and set a brown paper bag and a cold bottle of water in front of him. “Eat.” Inside was a toasted turkey sandwich on rye and a fresh apple exactly the way Ethan liked it, no mayonnaise. Adrian was already opening a folder and uncapping his pen. “I can buy my own breakfast.” “You can,” Adrian agreed without looking up. “You didn’t. Eat so we don’t have to stop when we land.” Ethan ate half the sandwich in silence while Adrian made red-ink notes in the margins. The quiet between them felt heavy with familiarity. When boarding was called they rose together. On the plane Ethan automatically took the window seat. Adrian preferred the aisle. They settled into the leather seats as the aircraft lifted into the grey morning sky. Ethan opened his laptop and began organizing the week’s executive meetings. Outside, the city disappeared under a thick floor of clouds. Twenty minutes later the cabin lights dimmed. The soft hum of engines filled the quiet. Beside him the sound of turning pages slowed. Adrian’s breathing deepened. His pen slipped from his fingers and rolled onto his lap. Slowly, his shoulders dropped. His head tipped sideways. And came to rest against Ethan’s left shoulder. Ethan went completely still. Fingers froze over the keyboard. He stopped breathing for three full seconds. He didn’t turn. He didn’t pull away. He kept his eyes locked on the glowing spreadsheet even as the numbers blurred into white lines. Adrian’s breath was warm and steady through the fabric of Ethan’s jacket. The weight of his head was light, yet it felt heavier than the entire plane. Ethan could smell the clean sharp scent of cologne mixed with cold air and expensive wool. He let himself look down. Just once. Long dark lashes rested against sharp cheekbones. Without the CEO’s cool mask, Adrian’s face looked softer. Younger. Tired. The same face Ethan had watched grow up through school hallways, messy teenage summers, and late night study sessions in college. The morning’s dream slammed back into him the phantom weight of a hand on his neck, the taste of that mouth, the sudden desperate heat of a kiss that had never happened. His chest ached with a quiet dull burn. He forced his eyes back to the screen and swallowed hard, breathing carefully so he wouldn’t disturb the man sleeping against him. He had been doing this for years. Sitting close enough to feel Adrian’s body heat. Knowing every small habit, every quiet preference. Carrying the truth that none of this was ordinary for him, while for Adrian it was simply how their world worked. Ethan was the secretary. The childhood friend. The constant fixture Adrian never had to question. Ethan shifted , making his shoulder a little more comfortable. Then he placed his hands back on the keyboard and forced himself to type again. He had never said the words out loud. He never planned to. Two hours later the plane began its long descent. Cabin pressure changed. Adrian stirred, lifting his head. He blinked, dark eyes slightly unfocused, then sat up and adjusted his tie. “Did I fall asleep?” “For about an hour,” Ethan said calmly, closing his laptop. “You needed it. You worked until two last night.” Adrian offered no apology. He simply picked up his pen and tucked the documents away, as if nothing unusual had happened. They moved through the terminal in their usual rhythm, Ethan half a step behind, handling claim checks and the driver’s location, while Adrian answered a short sharp call from the CFO about the London market open. Outside, cool morning air met them. The black sedan waited at the curb. Ethan helped load the luggage, tipped the driver, and opened the rear door for Adrian before climbing in himself. The heavy door shut, sealing out the airport noise. The car pulled into highway traffic. Adrian glanced at a fresh text, slid his phone back into his pocket, and turned to look at Ethan. “Mom wants you at dinner Saturday.” Ethan turned from the passing scenery. “Why am I invited to a Blake family dinner?” Adrian studied him for a long moment, brow drawing together in that familiar way he always had when Ethan asked a question that made no sense to him. “Because you’re always there.”