Chapter 19
Elsie
“Okay, that’s pretty screwed up,” I say, because it is. That’s gotta be really weird for a child. I want to turn back around and hug Xander, but I also want him to keep talking. As much for his own sake as mine.
I get the impression that he’s never told anyone this before and it’s definitely something that anyone would need to get off their chest. I want to listen because I want him to heal. Somehow this is all wrapped up in the media scandal and now that I know him better I’m furious that Luna is doing this to him.
“That’s just the tip of the iceberg. What’s a little kid supposed to think when you go on vacation and both your mommies and daddies come. And by come I mean they used to fuck their brains out, all four of them. You know, because whatever DVD they put on for me to watch was going to make me not realize what they were doing.” Xander’s voice is strained and I reach around to squeeze his thigh.
I wish I could do more, but I have no idea what to do to help him, other than listen.
“So, seeing all this news about you isn’t shocking them at all? Because I guarantee that right now my own parents are freaking big time about that photograph of me in red lingerie.”
God, I really should call them and explain. Later. I’m sure Isabel and Nathan are wondering what’s going on as well. And somehow I need to get some underwear and a non-work outfit to wear. I wonder how long we’re going to be here.
“I’ll explain everything to them and tell them that nothing happened between us,” Xander says as he traces an invisible pattern on my skin.
I tilt my head back and chuckle. “Nothing happened at all, that’s why we’re lying here naked.”
“This happened after. It doesn’t count.”
“Good point. You may continue with stories of your fucked-up life.”
Xander tickles my waist and I laugh and squirm. He says, “I can, can I?”
“You may and remember, it wasn’t a question.” He tickles me again and I reach around and try to tickle him back.
“Oh, you don’t want to go there,” Xander says, tickling me harder.
I bend my knees and try to force myself off the sofa, but he holds me tight and smacks my ass.
“Stop it!” I laugh. My body is far too exhausted to put up a fight and I am at his complete mercy.
Xander flips me over to face him. Our eyes meet as he brings his lips to mine and kisses me softly. My chest fills with butterflies, not in a sexual way but because it’s the most intimate kiss I’ve ever experienced.
There’s a vulnerability in his action and the meaning of it tumbles over in my mind. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. He makes me want to jump into his arms and stay there forever and ever.
I know I said I wasn’t interested in having a boyfriend until after I get all my test results back, but Xander makes me lose all those ideas. The feelings he unleashes within me are too strong, and I can’t ignore them.
Except I have to keep telling myself those words he said in the car, I don’t do girlfriends. But this most definitely feels like a boyfriend-girlfriend talk.
“What did you mean when you said this wasn’t Xander Whitman fucking someone, that this is the real you?”
His eyes search mine and he strokes my hair down the back of my head. “Exactly what it sounded like it meant,” Xander pauses and smiles. “With you I can be myself.”
My brow furrows and I blink back a tear. What must to be like to go through your whole life without feeling you can ever be yourself? My mouth scrunches up in sadness and Xander clears his throat.
“Don’t feel too sorry for me, after all I am the world’s sexiest man,” Xander says, joking to ease my sadness.
“You really are, that’s one thing the media got right,” I say and flick my eyes down his sculpted arm.
He rolls his eyes and I playfully slap his bicep.
“Are you trying to get tickled again?” he smirks.
“Nope. I’m just pointing out that not everything in your life is fake.”
“It’s not now that I have you in my life. That’s what I love about you so much, what you see is what you get,” Xander says, stroking his thumb down my cheek.
I’m silenced by his words and try to contemplate their meaning. I’m in his life. Love. He loves something about me. I love a lot about him. All of him, to be exact.
“I’ve never been good at putting on a façade, although it’s caused me some problems in the past,” I say, my words a whisper.
“Who cares about the past? Let’s leave it all behind and go from here, with each other.” Xander’s tone is confident and sure and my heart races.
“What happened to I don’t do girlfriends?” My voice is barely audible.
“I guess I never met the right person before. But you are a whole new story, and I want you in my life. Call it whatever label you want, but I’m not about to let you go now that I finally found you.” As Xander speak, his eyes stare into mine, piercing straight into my soul.
“Good, because I really don’t want you to let me go. I want to lay here in your arms forever.” My voice trembles, betraying the worry about saying my innermost thoughts out loud.
Xander raises himself onto his arms and bends to kiss me. He brushes his lips over my forehead and cheek before closing his mouth over mine. Once again my chest fills with butterflies at the intimacy of his action.
This kiss isn’t lust fueled, it is simply two people committing themselves to each other.
He breaks the kiss and draws me against him, resting his head on mine. I’d quite happily be like this until the end of time. I don’t even care about Cynthia anymore. In fact, I’m glad about the photo because otherwise I wouldn’t be here with him like this right now.
My mind wanders over the last day and why he was running in the first place. The paparazzi were hounding him and his useless so-called friends in New York didn’t help him. Maybe that’s what’s behind his realization that his life needed to change.
Like he needed to get away from all the reality TV crap and be himself. I still don’t understand why he was pretending to be Luna’s fake boyfriend in the first place.
“What about your fake girlfriend? Won’t Luna be mad about me?”
“She’ll get over it.”
“And the TV show?” I ask, still not fully sure what the situation behind it is.
“Luna won’t be too happy but for my own sanity I need to walk away from it. Besides, I’m going to be too busy fucking you to film that shit.” Xander squeezes me tight, emphasizing his plans for the future.
I’ve spent so long avoiding picturing the future but suddenly I want to sit with him and talk about all the things we can do together.
“How did you meet Luna anyway?” I figure I can ask questions now that he’s said those things to me.
He sighs and says, “I’ve known her since we were babies. She’s the child of the couple my parents swap with.”
“So, she’s your step-sister?” I ask, unable to hide the shock in my voice.
“Essentially, although not officially. Neither of our parents divorced or remarried, but, yes, we essentially have the same set of four parents.”
Chapter 20
Xander
My mouth is dry and parched and I’m desperate for a drink. Or maybe I need a break from all the talking. I’d never anticipated telling anyone this and have spent my entire life sucking it up, pretending it didn’t bother me.
To try to please my father, I spent a lot of years going down the route of being the rich playboy without a care in the world. The one who wouldn’t think twice about doing whatever he wanted, no matter the consequences.
It may have made my father happy, but it sure left me feeling pissed off at the world. And at him.
But nothing pissed me off as much as what he did to Luna.
“I’m dying of thirst,” I say and kiss Elsie’s hair. “Let’s check out the kitchen.”
“You can’t ju
st drop that bombshell and change the subject,” Elsie says, bewildered.
“Sure I can.”
“Fine, but only because I’m in a generous mood since you made me feel so good. But you’re definitely telling me more later.”
“Maybe. Let’s find the kitchen.”
“Hopefully there is some kind of food to eat. We didn’t get lunch and I’m also starved. Except my legs are still like jelly and I’m not sure I want to get up and walk yet.”
“Get used to the feeling.”
“So you keep promising, let’s see if you can deliver,” Elsie says with a coy smile.
“You have reason to doubt me?”
She rolls over and sits herself up before pushing herself into a standing position. She looks down at me, her hands on her hips and says, “Let’s go eat.”
“Now who’s avoiding questions?” I say and spring off the sofa. She quirks an eyebrow at me as I pull on my boxer shorts.
“I don’t have anything to put on.”
“Fine by me, but you can always put on your thong.”
“And I guess I can put back on my work clothes.”
“Fuck that shit, I want to see that supermodel body of yours,” I say and run my hands over her hips and waist.
Elsie laughs and pulls on her thong. I lace my fingers through hers and we wander out of the room.
“I still can’t get over this place,” Elsie says, craning her neck into each of the rooms we pass.
“It’s okay, but I’m not into the antiques. I prefer something more casual,” I say.
“If by casual you mean my cramped one-bedroom apartment that’s furnished from IKEA.”
“As long as you are in it, I don’t need anything else.”
We arrive at the back of the house. The kitchen stretches off to the left of the central hallway. It’s modern, thankfully, but made to look old. I open the stainless-steel freezer and a bag of chicken nuggets tumbles out.
“Good thing it’s fully stocked,” I say, rummaging through the haphazardly stored heaps of frozen food in search of some orange juice.
Elsie takes two glasses from one of the dark wood cupboards and fills them up with tap water. She sets one on the granite counter beside the freezer and takes a drink from the other.
“Thanks,” I say and grab the glass. I’m so thirsty that once the water hits my mouth I can’t stop and I down it in one long gulp. The relief coats my throat which is raw from my confessions.
“Anything good in there?” Elsie asks.
“I can’t see anything, you look and see,” I say, trying to hide my smirk.
Elsie steps in front of the freezer and her nipples instantly harden into little pink bullets. I’m momentarily transfixed by them, and I can’t help leaning over and licking them. If we hadn’t just finished fucking, I’d sit her on the counter and make her scream. I make a mental note to do it to her here later.
“I can see right through your little have-Elsie-dig-in-the-freezer plan,” she says, tilting her head sideways at me and quirking a brow. She steps back to the sink area and says, “What’s for lunch?”
“Frozen lasagna,” I say, taking two single-serving lasagnas out and setting them on the counter.
“I’m so hungry I’d eat anything,” she says, ripping them from the cardboard boxes and flinging them into the microwave.
“I can see you’re a regular domestic goddess,” I say, my eyebrows raised.
“This is what real life looks like,” she says and laughs.
“Good, I can’t wait to live a normal life with lovingly prepared frozen lasagna and eat it while sitting in my cramped room on my IKEA sofa.”
“Make that used IKEA sofa,” she says, emphasizing the word used.
“Yes, I’m well aware of how privileged my life has been. But as long as my father isn’t ass fucking my pretend second mother in the next room while she screams about how big his dick it is, I’ll be happy.” My eyes shift to the floor as I try to block all the memories.
Elsie runs a hand down my arm and takes my empty glass. She refills it, looking out the kitchen window. “Wow, look at the swimming pool.”
Glancing out the window, I see the swimming pool surrounded by natural stone landscaping along with the waterfall and slide made from an artificial stone hill.
I make a mental note and put it on my list. I figure we can cover this entire house before the media coverage goes away.
“Guess what we’re doing after lunch?” I joke.
“If you call this lunch, it’s almost dinnertime.”
I bring my body close against hers and say, “This house is timeless, time has no meaning in our little refuge.”
She looks up at me with that natural smile that lights up her face and I pull her into me and told her tight. We stand in a motionless dance and I can’t stop thinking about having her in my life and what the future is going to look like.
I want to be crazy and move her into my New York apartment right away. What’s the point of delaying? She’d better not want to stay in New Jersey.
Hell, who am I kidding. New York is the place that’s killing me. Maybe I should make Trenton my new home.
The microwave sounds an angry, urgent beep and Elsie extracts herself from my arms to stop it. I find two plates and knives and forks while she takes the food out. Taking the hot container from her, I dump it upside-down onto one of the plates.
“There’s real life in action,” Elsie laughs.
“I told you I can be real around you,” I say, grinning and take the other container from her and repeat the action on my plate.
With our plates in hand, we walked to the far end of the room and sit at the round antique table.
Neither of us says anything as we eat our food. I try to slow down but I’m starving and inhale my lasagna. Elsie is too busy stuffing her own face, and I can’t help smiling. Never in my life have I seen a woman eat like that. It’s the best sight in the world.
Not that she’s eating like a pig, she’s eating like she’s hungry. Like all that matters are that she stops being hungry and not that she’s conscious about me sitting here and worried about me judging her.
It’s the constant judging that gets to me the most.
Everyone judges everyone all the time. Although I ended up judging people based on what category poser they were, not how skinny their waist was or how many people they’d fucked and discarded.
Elsie finishes and pushes her plate away. She takes another gulp of her water and says, “I feel much better now.”
“Good, you’re going to need some energy,” I say, staring at her pert nipples.
Chapter 21
Elsie
Xander stacks my empty plate on top of his and balances the knives, forks and glasses on top of the plates. He puts them in the sink and searches under the counter for something, and triumphantly raises dish soap over his head when he finds it.
I wonder if he often does the dishes, or ever does the dishes in his normal life. I doubt it, so I stay seated at the table and let him be real, or whatever it is he calls it.
Putting my elbow on the table, I lean my head on my hand. I’m still trying to figure out his relationship with Luna. I wonder if he’ll answer me if I bring it up now, or if I should wait a little longer.
It is clearly hard for him to talk about any of this and I want to make it as easy for him as possible. He needs to know that I will listen to him and not pressure him for my own satisfaction. That I want to help him as much as I can.
I’m also curious to know what’s going on in the news. My smutty picture must’ve been seen by everyone I know by now and I want to know what the media is saying about me. Have they released my name?
“I should phone my friend Isabel,” I say.
Xander stops the water and turns in my direction. “No, I told you, this is our little sanctuary and we’re going to pretend the outside world doesn’t exist.”
“I have to tell her I’m okay.”
“
Why wouldn’t you be okay?” He turns the water back on and furiously scrubs the plates.
“Because I’ve been suspended from my job and am running from paparazzi,” I say, stopping myself from adding duh to the end of my sentence.
“But you’re with me. The guy from the front desk knows that. He’ll tell her.”
“Don’t you want to know what’s happening now? Has Luna made the retraction?”
“We’ll find out later. It doesn’t matter if we know or not, we can’t change anything. We may as well enjoy ourselves in this little house.” Xander stacks the plates on the counter and washes the glasses.
“Yeah, this house is real little.” Maybe he’s right. I’m good at burying my head in the sand and this is just another reason to keep it there.
“I need to find something better to drink. Maybe this place has a wine cellar.”
Standing, I begin looking around the kitchen. At the far end of the island is a glass-fronted wine fridge. I open it up and pull out a random bottle. “Is this any good?”
Xander comes close and takes the bottle from my hand. “Pinot grigio works for me.”
He rummages around some nearby drawers and finds a corkscrew. I pull two wine glasses from the cupboard beside the water glasses and set them on the counter for him. He pours the wine and hands me one.
“Cheers,” he says, clinking my glass.
Butterflies fill my chest again and I can’t help but smile. It’s almost like this casual toast solidifies things between us. “Cheers,” I say, and take a sip.
“Let’s find somewhere comfortable,” Xander says and takes my hand.
We find a room with slightly less expensive-looking antiques that even has a TV on the wall. Sitting side by side on the sofa, Xander drapes his arm around my shoulders and I lean into him, my muscles relaxing against the warmth of his body.
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