Blurred Lines and Rising Heat

“There’s no need, CEO Lin…”

“So you really do hate me.” Lin Wanzhao interrupted, her voice dropping a fraction.

“I don’t—”

“So even if it’s late, even if it’s pouring rain, you’d rather leave…” Lin Wanzhao looked down, sounding genuinely dejected as she toyed with the medicine box. “Maybe I have a misunderstanding of what the word ‘friend’ means. If my friends were in this situation, they’d just stay. It’s not like there’s an emergency in the middle of the night, and it’s not like I don’t have extra rooms or a spare bed.”

Yu Qingkong fell silent. She hadn’t expected Lin Wanzhao to take it to such a personal level. She simply felt… awkward staying. Given their history, remaining under the same roof felt like walking through a minefield.

“If I were that friend you used to share a room with, you wouldn’t leave, would you?” Lin Wanzhao added softly.

Yu Qingkong looked up, watching her quietly.

“I understand. Go ahead then. Just be careful; the roads are slick and wipers aren’t always reliable. Get home safe.” Lin Wanzhao finished speaking and, gripping her medicine, turned painfully on her injured ankle to limp back toward the living room.

Yu Qingkong watched her for a beat before her hand caught the edge of the door. “I didn’t bring pajamas.”

Lin Wanzhao stopped. Her heart gave a sudden leap. She turned back around, a faint light in her eyes as she fiddled with the medicine. “Pajamas?”

“Mhm. I’m not used to sleeping naked, but I can’t exactly…” Yu Qingkong looked down at her clothes and gestured to herself. “…sleep like this, right?”

“I have plenty of pajamas,” Lin Wanzhao said quickly. “We’re about the same size. You can wear mine. They might be a little… loose in the chest for you, but pajamas are supposed to be oversized anyway, aren’t they?”

Yu Qingkong nodded slowly. “And a toothbrush, a towel… I don’t have those either.”

“I have disposable toothbrushes and unopened towels. I keep them ready for when friends stay over.” Lin Wanzhao looked at her expectantly.

“Then it’s fine.” Yu Qingkong stepped inside and pulled the door shut.

“So, you’re staying?” Lin Wanzhao tapped the medicine box against her chest, her heartbeat a little erratic.

“Unless you’ve changed your mind and want me to leave?” Yu Qingkong reached for the doorknob again.

“No!” Lin Wanzhao leaned forward and pressed her hand over Yu Qingkong’s on the handle. “Why do you have to twist things like that?”

Yu Qingkong looked at Lin Wanzhao—brow furrowed, limping, yet stubbornly holding the door shut. For a split second, she found her remarkably cute. Her lips quirked into a faint smile. “CEO Lin, I’m joking.”

“Oh…” Lin Wanzhao slowly let go of the handle and turned away.

Yu Qingkong watched her, thinking for a long moment before looking at the floor. “And for the record… I really don’t hate you.”

Lin Wanzhao didn’t say anything, but a sliver of a smile touched her lips. She quickly masked it by clutching her stomach and wincing.

Yu Qingkong took the medicine from her, popped a tablet out of the blister pack, and held it out. “Take this. I’ll get you some water.”

“Thank you,” Lin Wanzhao said, accepting the pill.

“You’re welcome.” Yu Qingkong changed into guest slippers, went to the kitchen, and returned with a glass of water.

Lin Wanzhao raised the glass to her lips immediately.

“Don’t be so reckless, it’s hot. Blow on it first.” Yu Qingkong sighed.

“Right… okay.” Lin Wanzhao blew on the water, swallowed the pill, and took a small sip. For some reason, the water tasted strangely sweet.

“How does the foot feel now?” Yu Qingkong asked, her eyes falling on the swollen ankle.

“It’s okay, just a bit of a sting. I’m just moving carefully so I don’t make it worse,” Lin Wanzhao looked down. “It’s just… I wanted to see that movie tomorrow. It’s the last day it’s playing, but I probably won’t be able to drive.”

“Which movie?”

“That detective thriller everyone’s talking about. I was looking at the 2:30 PM show.”

Yu Qingkong nodded. “If you’re feeling better by then, I’ll drive you.”

“Really?” Lin Wanzhao smiled brightly. She pointed to a door down the hall. “You can sleep in that room. The second drawer in the walk-in closet has pajamas. Pick whatever you like. There’s a bathroom right next to it.”

“Okay. It’s late, so I’ll head in.”

Lin Wanzhao tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing her delicate collarbone, and nodded.

“Goodnight.” With a slight bow, Yu Qingkong entered the bedroom.

Lin Wanzhao watched her go, the smile on her face lingering. Suddenly, the pain in her stomach and her foot seemed to vanish.

Inside the room, Yu Qingkong looked around. The mint-green decor was refreshing, and the bed looked incredibly soft. She opened the closet and saw a row of silk nightgowns. She couldn’t help but imagine the fabric against Lin Wanzhao’s skin—soft, elegant, and undeniably sexy.

She shook the thought away, grabbed a basic set of pajamas, and headed to the bathroom to wash up.

When she finished and stepped out, she saw Lin Wanzhao was still awake, curled up on the sofa with a laptop and a stack of files. Her kitten was asleep beside the computer. Lin Wanzhao was on the phone, discussing company matters in a calm, professional tone.

Not wanting to disturb her, Yu Qingkong quietly retreated to her room. As she lay in the dark, she realized that despite her fears, they could return to a normal professional relationship. If neither of them mentioned that night at the hotel, it was as if it never happened.

But… she felt a strange, hollow ache in her chest that she couldn’t explain.

***********************************************

At 6:00 AM, Yu Qingkong woke up. She opened her door to get a glass of water.

The kitten ran to greet her, but then she saw Lin Wanzhao. She was still on the sofa, curled up like a cat herself, clutching a throw pillow. The files were scattered on the coffee table, and her laptop screen had gone dark. She looked exhausted.

Yu Qingkong walked over and gently nudged her shoulder. “CEO Lin, don’t sleep here. You’ll catch a cold, or worse, fall off if you turn over.”

Lin Wanzhao was in a deep sleep and didn’t respond. Her long lashes cast shadows on her cheeks. Her skin looked radiant and soft in the morning light.

“I’m taking you to bed,” Yu Qingkong whispered to the empty room.

She slid one arm under Lin Wanzhao’s waist and the other under her knees. She hoisted her up, staggering for a moment before finding her balance.

In her sleep, Lin Wanzhao instinctively reached out and wrapped her arms around Yu Qingkong’s neck. Yu Qingkong froze. Before she could react, Lin Wanzhao pressed her face against Yu Qingkong’s chest.

The warmth of her breath seeped through Yu Qingkong’s pajamas, sending a jolt through her skin. Her breathing hitched.

Taking a steadying breath, Yu Qingkong carried her into the bedroom. But as she leaned down to lay her on the bed, Lin Wanzhao didn’t let go. The momentum pulled Yu Qingkong down with her.

It happened so fast that Yu Qingkong ended up pinned directly on top of her. Their bodies were pressed together, and the heat between them rose instantly.

“CEO Lin?” Yu Qingkong’s throat felt parched.

Lin Wanzhao stirred, her chin tilting up slightly. Her lips parted as she let out a soft sigh and slowly opened her eyes.

“Mmm…” Her voice was a soft, airy hum.

Yu Qingkong turned her face away, closing her eyes and resting her head near Lin Wanzhao’s neck, trying to regulate her breathing. But the frantic pulse in Lin Wanzhao’s neck and the intoxicating scent of her skin only made it harder to stay calm.

Lin Wanzhao shifted again, her eyes half-mast and hazy with sleep. She let out another soft sigh.

“Are you awake? If you are…” Yu Qingkong squeezed her eyes shut and turned back to look at her. “…let go of me.”

Her mind was a chaotic mess of impulses.

“Hot…” Lin Wanzhao whispered, her eyes fluttering closed again.

Yu Qingkong stared at her soft lips, remembering how passionately those lips had responded to her at the hotel. Her hands tightened into fists at Lin Wanzhao’s shoulders, a bead of sweat rolling down her forehead.

“CEO Lin…” Yu Qingkong’s voice was a low, dangerous rasp. She felt like she was losing her grip on her self-control.