Chapter 5: Crossing the Line Again
In the end, I stayed sober, but Eli got drunk.
Drinking wine like it was water—no wonder he was out cold.
I called Dylan.
“Mr. Whitaker is drunk. Come pick him up.”
“Secretary Autumn, Mr. Whitaker sent me to Cleveland for work. I can’t make it back.”
I wanted to cry.
Eli kept pawing at me, so I slapped him hard. Finally, peace and quiet.
In the end, I had to drag the drunken Eli home myself.
Panting, I tossed his arm aside, and he fell straight onto the floor.
“Ugh!”
I thought he’d wake up, but after a while, he didn’t move at all.
I kicked him twice in frustration.
Stupid man.
Eli lay with his back to me, lips pressed tight, his features scrunched up.
I sniffed myself and couldn’t stand it anymore, so I grabbed my pajamas and went to shower.
The sound of water echoed in the bathroom as I stood under the spray.
Suddenly, a hard chest pressed against my back. My heart did a full-on somersault, and for a second, I thought I might actually faint. The bathroom lights glinted off the mirror, catching a glimpse of Eli’s face—eyes dark, lips parted, fighting some inner war. The steam curled around us, hot and heavy, and all I could think was: so much for keeping my distance.













