Iād worked with Xavier for years, and Iād never seen him angry. Frustrated, yes. Annoyed, definitely. But angry? No.
Until now.
The shift in his countenance was subtle but unmistakable: The tightening of his jaw. The glint in his eyes. The way his muscles coiled.
He was seconds away from losing his temper, and I needed to take control fast before we landed ourselves on Perry fucking Wilsonās blog again.
āHeās not my boyfriend.ā I finally found my words and pinned an annoyed glare at the man standing across from me. āSince you asked, I havenāt answered your calls or texts because I already made it clear: Weāre over.ā
āI thought you were joking. We had such a good thing going. Why would you want to end it?ā Mark demanded. He appeared genuinely baffled.
Oh, for Christās sake. This was what I got for indulging in a regular hookup instead of one-night stands.
I didnāt want a relationship, but I had physical needs like everyone else, and having a consistent booty call was easier than wading into the sewage of online dating or waiting for lightning to strike in real life.
The problem? Men always got so attached. Sleep with them a couple of times and they suddenly thought we were going to ride off into the sunset together.
I didnāt even like sunsets. They were depressing.
āI told you our time together has expired.ā I looked around for our server. There had to be a rule against unlawful loitering at dinersā tables. āNow, as Xavier mentioned, we were in the middle of a conversation. Please leave.ā
My talk with Xavier had been uncomfortable, off-putting, and surprising in a multitude of ways, but Iād rather spend the entire day rehashing our kiss than speak with Mark.
Iād broken things off with him right before Greece. We met when he was bartending at the happy hour spot my friends and I frequented, and we hooked up for a few months until he booked us a weekend getaway at a bed-and-breakfast. That was when I knew it was over.
āOh, come on,ā Mark wheedled. If I hadnāt been sure we were over before, I was now. There was nothing more unattractive than a grown man whining. āIf youāā
āShe said leave.ā Xavier cut him off, his voice lethally soft.
He hadnāt moved since Mark called himself my boyfriend, but his eyes smoldered with deadly warning.
Despite his relaxed pose, one arm tossed over the back of the booth and the other resting on the table, tension filled every line of his body. He resembled a predator lying in the weeds, waiting to strike.
A shiver breathed cold down my spine.
Xavier wasnāt the violent type, but I had a gut feeling that if he and Mark went head to head, one of them would end up on the groundāand itād be the one standing right now.
āThis doesnāt involve you,ā Mark snapped, but he took a tiny step to the right, away from Xavier. āI still donāt know who the fuck you are.ā
āYou donāt need to know who I am.ā Xavierās affable smile didnāt reach his eyes. āYou do, however, need to take a hint. Sloane broke up with you, and you didnāt listen. She told you to leave, and you didnāt listen. Thatās two strikes. I highly suggest you donāt make a third.ā
Some peopleās anger ran hot, exploding in outbursts and impulsive violence.
Xavierās ran cold, smoothing his tone, frosting the air, and sending another breathless shiver over my skin.
I could and did take care of myself. I didnāt want to play the damsel in distress, and I didnāt need a man barging in to reiterate things Iād already said.
But fuck, sometimes it felt good to have backup, especially when it came wrapped in muscles and devastating charm.
Markās gaze slid from Xavier to me and back again. Whatever he saw in our faces mustāve spooked him because he turned tail and fled without another word.
My fork clattered against my plate when he disappeared from view. Iād clutched it in a death grip this entire time, and the metal left a cold imprint against my skin.
Xavier dropped his arm from the booth, tension unwinding from his body like a spool of rope. The dangerous gleam vanished from his eyes, and he observed me for a quiet moment.
āLuna,ā he said, āyou have unequivocally shitty taste in past men.ā
I groaned, already over this day even though it was only noon. āThank you for brunch, but weāre done here.ā I tossed a twenty on the table for tip, grabbed my bag, and stood. āI have...ā He knew about my cleared calendar. Dammit, Jillian. If she werenāt such a great assistant otherwise, I would fire her for sharing that information with Xavier. āEmails to check.ā
āI certainly hate to keep you from your emails, but we havenāt finished our earlier conversation, as you kindly pointed out to Meathead Central.ā Xavier flagged down our server and paid our bill before following me out of the restaurant. āGive me a good reason why we canāt date besides our working relationship.ā
āThat should be enough reason.ā I purposely turned away from him and scanned the street for a passing cab. A quick phone check told me it would be faster than trying to hail an Uber.
āWorking relationships come and go, Luna. Personal ones donāt.ā A small pause. āAt least, they shouldnāt.ā
āAre you firing me?ā
āNo, Iām saying we can work around the publicist-client thing. Hell, we can watch one of those rom-coms you loveāer, love to hate-watchāso much for inspiration,ā Xavier amended when I glared at him. āHollywood mustāve come up with a dozen strategies for this sort of thing.ā
āI told you, rom-coms are unrealistic. Hollywood isnāt real life.ā I whirled to face him. āYou just told Mark to know when to take a hint. Why are you being so insistent about this?ā
āBecause I want you.ā
Simple. Matter-of-fact. And a fierce, unexpected blow to my chest.
The air evacuated from my lungs as I stared at Xavier. His eyes and mouth had sobered, wiping away the irreverence and leaving only sincerity behind.
āI donāt want a kiss or a one-night stand,ā he said. āI want you. I want to know you outside work. I want to take you on real dates. And I donāt know if itāll work out in the end, but I want us to at least try.ā
For Godās sake, Sloane, no one wants to date a block of ice.
A thick sensation crawled into my throat and curled up there. āTrust me.ā I strangled my bag strap with one hand. āYou donāt want to know me outside work.ā
When I was working, no one blamed me for being cold or direct. They expected it. When I was datingā¦that was a whole different matter.
āLet me be the judge of that.ā Xavierās voice softened. āWhat are you so afraid of?ā
A wretched tingle spread behind my eyes and nose. āNothing.ā I averted my gaze to the street, where honking cars and jaywalking pedestrians provided enough stimulation to obscure my real answer.
Iām afraid of letting someone in again. Iām afraid of getting my heart broken.
Iām afraid that, if you get to know the real me, youāll find me unlovable like everyone else, and itāll hurt so much more because itās you.
My past was my past. Iād been young, stupid, and inexperienced, and Iād dated plenty of other men since my first heartbreak. I hadnāt been afraid of giving them a chance because I knew they wouldnāt breach my defenses.
Xavier? He had the potential to destroy the entire system. āSloane.ā His light touch seared my arm. āLook at me.ā āNo.ā I hardened my resolve and thrust out my arm to hail a passing cab. āWeāll go over your PR plan later. Iām taking the rest of the day off.ā