I roll my eyes. “Goodnight, cuz.”
“Night. Don’t do anything that I’d do.” She winks.
“Isn’t the saying don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do?”
“That’s exactly my point. If you were like me, you’d fuck that man into submission. Your ‘friends first’ tactic seems to be working, so don’t be like me,” she teases before she struts by the two cooks, smacking Brock’s ass as she passes by on her way to the dining room.
Brock stares after her and says to no one in particular in a dreamy voice, “I love to watch that girl go.”
Sooner or later I’m going to have to get the scoop on those two.
The moment I lock myself into Quinn’s Honda, I scroll through my phone to find Xavier’s number. If he’s on his bike he’s not going to answer, so it’s pointless calling right now. There’s only one place that I know he likes to go, so I crank the engine alive and head in the direction of the diner.
Nerves jitter through me as I drive through the city. What in the hell am I suppose to say to him? Am I supposed to tell him that I’m sorry again, or do we drop it and move on? What if he sees me and walks away, angry that I didn’t get the hint the first time?
I sigh and keep driving, because I have to at least try. I don’t want our friendship to get crushed because I couldn’t take a hint and back off a touchy subject.
I pull into the parking lot, and there’s no sign of Xavier’s bike. My shoulders sag as it occurs to me that I have no clue where he lives. We’ve only ever met in public places, so I don’t even know how to attempt to find him. I pull out my cell and dial his number but it instantly connects to his voice mail. “It’s Anna. Call me, please.”
I drum my fingers on the wheel and debate my next move until I spot Nettie through the window, serving tables.
She’ll know where I can find him.
I hop out of the car and shove my phone in my back pocket as I make my way toward the diner’s entrance. It’s then, in the distance, I hear a motorcycle rumble. I stop in my tracks and wrap my arms around myself as I stare in the direction of the sound.
Xavier pulls into view, and my eyes glue to him. His dark hair blows back while the dark sunglasses he’s wearing hide his eyes from me. The material of his black t-shirt strains against the defined muscles in his chest and arms, and his jeans hug his powerful thighs perfectly. He’s sexiness personified, and I can’t tear my eyes away.
He parks next to me but because of his glasses I can’t get a good read on his expression. Xavier flicks down the kickstand and swings his leg off the bike. “What are you doing here, Anna?”
I hug myself tighter. “I didn’t like how we left things.”
He leans back against his bike and crosses his arms over his chest, still hiding his eyes behind the dark plastic. “Don’t sweat it. It’s over. Let’s not rehash the bullshit.”
There’s no doubt the small crack I broke through has now been bricked shut, and I’ve learned pushing him doesn’t always end with the result that I want.
I readjust my arms and nod. “You’re right. No need to discuss things we’ve dealt with.”
His lips pull into a tight line. “Then why are you here?”
I take a step toward him, feeling the pull that connects us drawing me to him. “I wanted to make sure we’re still all right.”
“We’re still friends. Nothing will change that.” Coldness rings through his voice and it scares me. I don’t want him to push me away.
I take another step, unable to stop myself from getting closer to him. He raises his eyebrows as I straddle one of his legs and place my hands on his sides. “Nothing?”
Xavier shakes his head. “No.”
An overwhelming need to taste his lips flows through me, and I can no longer fight against it.
“Then I’m breaking rule number two of our friendship clause.”
And with no clue what in the hell I’m doing, I lean in and press my lips to his.
His entire body tenses for a moment—muscles contracting beneath my touch before relaxing as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me against his hard chest. His tongue flicks across my lips, begging to be let in. The instant he thrusts his tongue into my mouth, he emits a low growl from the back of his throat. My sex clenches as I find myself more turned on by him than ever.
A wave of pure, unadulterated lust washes over me, and I curl my fingers into the fabric of his shirt, wanting to hold him next to me forever. Large fingers slide over my collarbone and up my neck before finally cradling my cheek, locking me in place. There’s no going back now. I have most definitely crossed a line, but I don’t care. I want this.
I want him.
He pulls away and leans his forehead against mine. “Spend the night with me.”
I swallow hard and hope to God that I’m ready for this, and that I can handle the outcome of what all this will mean for me. What it will mean for us.
“Okay.”
Xavier kisses me one last time before he orders, “Follow me.”
The moment we pull apart, I shiver while my body craves the return of his warmth. I turn away, clenching my hands into fists as I head toward Quinn’s car, and when I hear Xavier's bike fire up behind me, the gravity of what I just agreed to hits me. On one hand I can’t believe I’m doing this, but on the other I’m so excited and turned on I can’t stand it. This is soon. I know that—the little voice in my head that keeps repeating it over and over is pretty loud right now—and promiscuity isn’t exactly something my conscience condones, but that voice needs to just shut up and allow my body to have its moment. It’s been tortured by Xavier’s close proximity long enough.
I follow Xavier on his bike, running through in my mind how I think this is going to go down. Do we sit in his living room and have drinks first like they do in the movies, or do we just get right to it the moment the door is shut?
I tap my thumb on the steering wheel as we come to a red light. I wish Quinn was here right now. She’d be able to give me some pretty solid advice since this is all new territory for me.
The moment the light turns green Xavier takes off again, but quickly slows down and pulls into a hotel parking lot.
Apparently he can’t wait either.
After I park beside him, I kill the engine and take a deep breath, removing my seat belt in the process.
I can do this. He’s not a stranger anymore, and I trust him. But my pep talk doesn’t do much to settle my nerves. This is a huge step and will change everything.
Suddenly the door opens, and I gasp and clutch my chest. Xavier rests his arm on the top of the car and leans down so he can see my face. “You all right?”
“Yeah—yes. I’m good. I’m ready to do this,” I say with confidence.
Xavier smirks. “You sound like you’re trying to psyche yourself up. Is being alone with me really that scary?”
I swallow hard as I stare into the deep-blue pools of his irises. “I’m not afraid of you.”
His eyes roam over my face, like he’s searching for answers to some unspoken question that he has in his mind. “You know, just because we broke rule number two, it doesn’t mean we have to go after number one next.”
My mind suddenly goes blank. “Remind me what that one is again?”
Xavier’s plump lips pull up into a devilish smile. “You—naked in my bed.”
My eyes widen. “I, um…”
Oh my God. This man has me completely flabbergasted. If I can’t even respond to him talking dirty now, how can I believe I’m ready to move on to the next level with him? Maybe he’s right. Maybe I am rushing things.
I stare up at him, unsure of what to say.
He smiles and nods, like he understands my plight. “It’s okay, beautiful. You don’t have to explain, and you’ve always got the right to change your mind. How about we watch a movie at my place instead?”
Relief floods me, and instantly I’m thankful that he’s not making a big deal about this. Most men would be
pissed. “A movie sounds nice.”
Xavier holds out his hand. “Come on.”
I take his hand, and he leads me toward the hotel entrance. I furrow my brow as we walk through the door and right past the front desk. “When you asked me to come over to your place for a movie, a hotel isn’t exactly what I had in mind,” I tell him honestly, still a little confused as he presses the button for the elevator.
We step inside and Xavier presses the button for the twentieth floor. A number of things flow through my mind. If this city is his permanent place of residence, him staying in a hotel doesn’t jive.
When we step onto our designated floor I can’t stop myself from asking, “I thought you said you’re from here.”
He leads me down the hall. “I am from here.”
“But you don’t live in Detroit permanently?” I try to clarify.
“I do. I have a permanent address here,” he answers.
I twist my lips as we stop at the last door. “Then how come you’re staying in a hotel, instead of your own place?”
He sighs as he fishes his room key from his wallet and slips it into the slot. “The property I own is my family home, but it’s not really a place I feel comfortable to actually stay in.”
So many questions stem from his one simple statement. I want to know what about the place makes him feel that way, but I know from my experience that sometimes home isn’t always a good place to be. I opt for a simpler approach. “Do you still have family living there?”
He holds the door open and motions for me to go inside. “Let’s not talk about my family. Please?”
I tense instantly and wish I could take back being so nosy. We’ve fought about my prying enough for one night.
The hotel suite is amazing. I’ve never been in one that looks more like a small apartment before. The sitting room has a couch and two formal armchairs pointing at the flat-screen mounted on the wall. A small, high-end kitchen with dark wood cabinets and stainless steal appliances flows into the sitting room. “This is really nice.”
He nods. “I stay here every time I’m in town.”
I turn back toward him. “How often is that?”
“Not often—every couple of years.”
My heart instantly sinks. “Who takes care of your house if you’re gone so often?”
He shrugs. “I pay someone to look after it.”
I sigh. “I can’t believe you’re leaving soon. Am I ever going to see you again?”
He leans against the wall and stares down at the floor. “It’s probably better if you don’t”
“Says who?”
His head jerks up, and he meets my stare. “Me.”
I shake my head and step toward him. “If we’re going to continue being friends, you have to stop with the self-loathing attitude. You aren’t a bad person. If you were, I wouldn’t be here right now.”
Xavier reaches out and grabs me by the waist, effectively pulling me to him. “You don’t know how badly I wish that where true.”
Intensity radiates off him and my heart pounds against my ribs as he leans in to kiss me. My hands press against his chest, and I close my eyes, allowing my mouth to drift open as I wait for lips to meet mine.
“Well, well…what do we have here?” A distinctly female voice purrs behind me. “Are you going to be done playing with her soon or will she be joining us this evening? I’m lonely back here.”
I turn just in time to spot Deena stride out from the bedroom, wearing a couple of red strings and pieces of fabric that I believe she considers to be lingerie. I can’t help but stare at her. She’s practically naked in front of me and seeing her undeniably killer body, I understand why she was unimpressed with me at the bar the other night. She belongs on a magazine cover.
How can I compete with that?
Xavier’s muscles tense beneath my fingers. “What are you doing here, Deena?”
She shrugs as she runs her finger along the back of the couch slowly. “I figured since we had so much fun together the other night that you’d want to do it again. I know I do.”
My stomach turns as the words the “other night” replay in my head. He slept with her after he’d spent the evening with me? I guess I’m nothing special to him after all. I shove away from him and shake my head.
“Anna…” He grabs for me, but I swat his hand away.
“Don’t!” I snap. “You don’t get to touch me while you still have her.”
He grimaces. “What happened with her…it didn’t mean anything.”
The conversation we had about his relationship with Deena flashes through my mind. “That’s right. The two of you have some weird sex arrangement that makes it okay to use her.” I shake my head, disgusted at how he could share his body with someone who means nothing to him. I feel so…used…and stupid. How could I be so naïve?
He scrubs his hand over his face. “It’s not like that. Damn it. I just…I can’t go without sex for that long, and I knew you—”
“Wouldn’t give it up, you little prude,” Deena fires at me, and her words feel like a punch to the gut. “I, on the other hand, was only too happy to give him what he needed.”
“Shut up, Deena!” His voice takes on a threatening tone and the smirk on her face immediately disappears as he glares at her.
It’s then that I know what Deena is saying is true, and Xavier is obviously not happy with her for telling me. My heart instantly crumbles. “Has the last week meant nothing to you?” Tears threaten to expose how betrayed I feel. The walls of the spacious hotel room begin to close in on me. I can’t stand here in the middle of this messed-up situation and pretend like I’m not hurting.
As I take a couple steps backward toward the door my feet falter, and I struggle to get my balance. Anger and embarrassment flow through my veins. I clutch my chest, wishing I could reach inside and hold my breaking heart together.
“Anna…” There’s an almost pleading tone to his voice, but I refuse to allow myself to get hurt any more.
I knew he was bad, that this wouldn’t end well, yet here I am—locked in his hotel room getting a huge reality check.
I lift my chin and feel grateful that we never became physical. That would’ve made walking away from him now that much harder.
“Thank you.” My gaze flicks from Xavier to Deena. “To both of you, for teaching me a very valuable lesson. Some people can’t be trusted, no matter how much you want to believe they can be.”
All the color drops from Xavier’s face, and he nods before shoving his hands in his pockets. “I warned you.”
I bat away a tear that’s rolling down my cheek. “You did. I just didn’t listen. Goodbye, X.”
He stands there, making no attempts to persuade me to stay, while I walk through the door and out of his life forever.
Chapter 10
I crouch under the coffee table of our small one bedroom apartment and pray she doesn’t call for me again.
I hate it when she does that.
I don’t like helping her.
Her footsteps shuffle across the floor, and I watch her take a seat at the small kitchen table with its mismatched chairs. It’s gotten worse over the few weeks—the need to take her medication. It’s becoming a daily thing, and when she doesn’t have it there’s always hell to pay.
“Xavier?” Mama calls. “I need your help, son.”
My entire body tenses as I hold my breath, praying no sound comes out of me this time. Maybe she’ll believe I’m not here.
“Come on, son. Mama needs your help.”
I jerk my hand back as a cockroach crawls across the floor and the top of my head bumps the table. Instantly, I freeze.
Her head whips in my direction. It takes a couple of seconds, but her eyes finally zero in on me under the table. “There you are. Why didn’t you answer me before? Come over here.”
I slink back, refusing to answer her.
Her eyes narrow, and she demands, “Get your ass over here now!”
 
; All the muscles in my body begin to tremble as I stand and take a hesitant step toward her. “Why do I always have to do it?”
She shoves her greasy brown hair away from her red, splotchy face and sniffs. “I’m not strong enough to get it tight. You, you’re strong.” She hands me the old black leather belt that’s on the table. “Hurry up, baby. I need my medicine.”
Tears stream down my face as I stare at the worn leather in my small hands. “Please, don’t make me.”
“You know I love you, right, baby? Help Mama out. If I don’t get my medicine it’ll make me upset. You remember what happens when I get upset, right?”
This is her way of threatening me—the way she always forces me to do what she says. Typically I do it just so she doesn’t become violent, but she looks worse today and I’m afraid of what another dose will do to her. I stare at the ragged t-shirt she’s wearing. It’s the same one she sleeps in, and she’s been so high she hasn’t bothered changing at all this week. Stains speckle the front of it from where I’ve tried to keep food in her.
I refuse to help her hurt herself any more.
I square my shoulders. “No.”
She narrows her blue eyes at me. “What’d you say to me?”
I lift my chin. “I said no.”
Without warning she draws back to smack me in the face, but like she said, I’m strong, and I snatch a hold of her wrist before she can make contact. “You little fucker. I hate you! No one will ever love you. EVER! You’re a selfish little bastard.”
I know this is the addiction talking. The books I’ve gotten from the library taught me that much. She wasn’t always like this. There have been some good times too, and those are the memories I try to hang on to. Thoughts of the woman I hope she’ll be again one day, when she kicks this habit.
“No, Mama! I want you to stop!”
“Leave then, just like your father did. Leave me here all alone.” She sobs as she comes undone, and my heart crushes. “No one ever wants to stay with me. I’ve made you hate me too.”
I wrap my arms around her, instantly sorry I made her cry. “I’m sorry, Mama. I don’t want to leave. I want you to get better.”