Inside Affair

by Ella Frank

  I got to my feet and shook his hand. “I’m Sean. And I have no idea what an EP is.”

  “Most don’t. But basically, I boss Xander around when he’s on air, and he lets me.”

  “Nice to see how you view our relationship, Jim,” Xander said.

  Jim grinned. “Ignore him. He knows the truth. So, you’re the boyfriend everyone’s buzzing about, huh?”

  I looked to Xander, who rolled his eyes, and decided there was no harm in confirming what was already out there. “That’s right. I guess that makes me your new competition for his time, huh?”

  “That sounds about right.” Jim gave me a once-over I wasn’t quite sure what to make of. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Sean.”

  As he headed out the door and I found myself alone with Xander again, I said, “What was that about?”

  “What?” Xander asked, not bothering to look up from the papers in front of him.

  “That look he just gave me.”

  As I stood on Xander’s left, he put his pen down and finally looked up at me. “Probably disbelief.”

  “Disbelief?”

  “Yes.” Xander pushed back from his chair with his papers in hand. “Disbelief that I would date someone who dresses like you.”

  I glanced down at my shirt and jeans. “What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?”

  “Nothing. But Jim knows me, and he’s probably wondering when I started dating men like, well, you.”

  Xander brushed by me, and when he got to the door, he stopped and looked back. “I need to go and get ready to go on air. You can wait in my office, if you like.”

  Yeah, okay, that all sounded fine to me, but… “I still don’t understand what’s wrong with my clothes. What should I be wearing?”

  My question was left unanswered, though, because Xander had already left the room.

  13

  Xander

  WHEN I STEPPED out of my bedroom the next morning to find Sean waiting on the other side of the door, I wasn’t at all surprised. Although I’d prepared myself for his presence mentally, the reality of seeing him first thing in the morning wasn’t something I could ever see myself getting used to.

  Yesterday had been frustrating and humiliating, and I was ashamed to admit I had let my temper get the better of me several times over. I’d barely spoken to Sean after the broadcast, and when we arrived home, I’d excused myself and gone straight to my room.

  This bodyguard thing was…unnatural. Having someone with you twenty-four seven was suffocating and made you conscious of every single move you made. Not to mention very aware of where that person was and what they were doing.

  I’d never been more attuned to Sean in my life. Add in the fact that my entire newsroom now believed we were dating, and I’d never felt more off balance either.

  “Good morning, sunshine.” The shit-eating grin that accompanied Sean’s greeting made me sigh.

  “Are you really this cheerful in the morning, or are you doing it to—”

  “Annoy you?” Sean pushed off the wall and nodded. “You got it.”

  “Mission accomplished,” I grumbled, as I walked by him and we headed toward the kitchen.

  “So, last night was interesting,” Sean said, and I quickly discovered that his version of interesting and mine varied greatly.

  “Not sure that’s how I’d describe it.”

  “No? Then how would you?”

  I flicked on the kitchen light and turned to look at him barefoot in his grey sweats and a navy t-shirt with CPD and the police department emblem on the pocket.

  “How about irritating, inconvenient, and humiliating.” As I turned on my heel to head to the fridge, Sean took up a seat at the counter.

  “Are we back to that again? I thought you would’ve simmered down after getting your beauty sleep.”

  My hand froze where it was on the handle, and I glared over my shoulder at the most infuriating man I’d ever met. “Simmered down? Do you even think about the stuff that comes out of your mouth before you say it?”

  “What? It’s an accurate description, isn’t it? You were all riled up yesterday, and I just thought—”

  “Stop thinking,” I snapped, and then let go of the fridge to brace my hands on the counter. “In fact, stop talking. It’s not even six yet, and I don’t have enough caffeine in my system to deal with you.”

  “Oh, come on, Xander. When are you going to stop being pissed about all of this and realize I’m here to help you?”

  I stared at him and felt my indignation leave me in a rush of air. I was angry, pissed off that some stranger had decided to zero in on me with his perverted fascination and in the process disrupted my day-to-day routine.

  But it wasn’t Sean’s fault. He was doing me a favor. He’d just been the most convenient punching bag around, and, I was ashamed to admit, I’d taken advantage of that.

  “You’re right,” I said. “I know you’re right, and I’m sorry. I’m just so…so—”

  “Angry?”

  “Yes.” I shrugged. “But there’s nothing I can do about it but deal with it.”

  “Right. And that’s what we’re doing. You’re not alone in this, you know.”

  “I know.” I rubbed my hands over my face and then went back to the fridge. “Do you want a coffee?”

  “Nah, I’m good. But maybe make yours a little stronger today.”

  I placed the milk on the counter. “Why’s that?”

  “Because in about twelve hours, we have to work out how to tell Bailey about all of this.”

  Shit. I looked at the clock, and sure enough, it was just about to turn six. Great, how in the world was I going to explain all of this to Bailey when I couldn’t even seem to wrap my own head around it? Maybe I should just leave it up to Sean. He seemed to be the most levelheaded about all of this, but then again, that was his job.

  “I can tell him, if you like,” Sean said as if reading my mind, and my gut instinct was to agree and let him deal with it. But either way, I knew Bailey would come to me once he found out.

  “No. It needs to come from both of us.”

  Sean nodded. “Well, don’t worry about it yet. I just wanted to put it out there.”

  Yeah, because it was as easy as that to just turn off the worry switch.

  “How about we focus on something else for a second?” he asked.

  “Like?”

  “Like how interesting your job is. I’ve never been in a television studio before. I guess I didn’t realize how much went into your day before you actually sat down in front of the camera.”

  I pushed the button on the coffee machine and leaned back against the counter. “What? You thought I rocked up thirty minutes before I went on air, recorded the news, and went home?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  I chuckled and shook my head. “I’m the editor of my newscast. I have final say on all the stories, write all my scripts, and spend most mornings here poring over the news before I even go in at around eleven. It’s a full-on job, one that requires ninety percent of my time, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

  “I get that,” Sean said as he leaned forward. “My job’s much the same. Weird, long-ass hours. Hard to turn off when you leave the place. But worth it when you put some evil motherfucker behind bars.”

  Up until now, I’d never really thought I had that much in common with Sean, but I had to admit, our lives were more similar than I’d imagined.

  “Do you ever think about leaving it?”

  Sean was shaking his head before he even answered. “Nah, I don’t know how to do anything else. And honestly, I’m pretty fucking good at it.”

  I laughed. “If you say so yourself.”

  “I do. Don’t tell me you don’t think you’re good at your job.”

  I grabbed myself a coffee cup. “Oh, I know I’m good at my job. Do you see where I live?”

  Sean scoffed. “Money isn’t everything, you know.”

  “I know. But it sure is ni
ce to have.” I flashed a smile, and when his eyes lowered to my mouth, I felt a frisson of heat race through my veins.

  No. No, no, body. That’s Sean. You don’t act like this with Sean. Get with the program.

  “So, um, you said you put in for leave the other night,” I said, trying to distract myself from whatever the hell that just was. “Did something happen or did you just need a break?”

  Sean blinked and then refocused on my face, and his eyes held a confusion I decided to ignore.

  “Uh, no. Nothing happened. I mean, we wrapped up a long case and I just realized I hadn’t been around family much. I can’t remember the last time I was at Saturday night dinner.”

  “Me either.”

  “Aww, did you miss me?”

  My gut instinct was to say no, but I told the truth. “Your absence was noted.”

  “And celebrated?”

  I frowned and wondered if Sean really thought we preferred those dinners when he wasn’t there. “Why would you say that?”

  Sean schooled his features and turned to look out at the view of the city. “Was just a joke.”

  That’s what he wanted me to believe, but I knew better. “I hope so, because your brothers? They love you.”

  Sean turned back to face me, the pensive expression in his eyes unreadable, but then he blinked and it seemed to vanish, and in its place was a smile.

  “They tell you that, or you just guessing?”

  “Bailey told me. Kieran would rather die than admit he has feelings, so with him I’m just guessing.”

  “Seems about right. Speaking of Bailey, how is he?”

  The coffee finished brewing, and I added some milk. “He’s great. Henri’s finally settled in, and the two of them seem really happy together. Do you want some juice, water, anything?”

  “I’ll take juice,” Sean said, and after I poured it and grabbed my coffee, I came around the counter and took the seat beside him.

  We sat there in silence for a moment, and I couldn’t help but think how odd it was to be sitting with Sean in my kitchen before sunrise. Then he leaned in and bumped shoulders with me.

  “Does it bother you?”

  I took a sip of my coffee. “Does what bother me?”

  “That it’s not you he settled down with?”

  The question was so out of the blue that it stumped me for a second. But after fully processing it, I shook my head. “No. I love Bailey, and I always will. But we worked out a long time ago we were better as friends.”

  Sean slowly nodded. “I figured. There’s not too many people who can go back to best friends after…you know.”

  “Fucking?”

  Sean screwed his nose up. “Uh, I’d rather not think about my brother doing anything remotely…naked.”

  I chuckled and took another sip of my coffee. “Fair enough.”

  Sean ran a hand though his hair, and when I spotted a hole in his t-shirt just under his ribs, I couldn’t stop myself from sticking my finger in it.

  “Your shirt has a hole in it.”

  Sean looked down at the rip and then shrugged. “One hole. And you can’t even really see it when my arm’s down.”

  “You can’t even— Are you serious?”

  “About my shirt? Yeah. I’ll keep it until it spreads.”

  “No. No, no. There’s no way I am dating—even fake dating—someone who wears shirts with holes in it.” I then looked to his too-long hair and stubble. “You know what we’re going to do today?”

  “Sew up my shirt.”

  The idea of Sean with a needle and thread was so preposterous that I couldn’t help but laugh. “No. I’m going to give you a makeover.”

  Sean’s eyes widened as he jumped to his feet. “Uh-uh. Hell no. I’ve seen those makeover shows, and there’s no way you are getting me in a pink shirt and tailored pants, all in the hope I’ll get in touch with my inner fashion goddess.”

  “Okay. First off, I think you’ve been watching too many of those shows. Second, you couldn’t pull off pink if you tried. Third, you are doing this because it will make me happy, and I’ve had a really shitty couple of days.”

  Sean looked to the ceiling and shook his head. But when he said, “You put me in anything pastel and I will shoot you,” I felt better than I had in days.

  14

  Sean

  “I DON’T KNOW about this, Xander.” I stared at myself in the full-length mirror of the dressing room Xander had shoved me into a few minutes ago and looked over the first outfit he’d picked out for me.

  It was unlike anything I would’ve chosen for myself, and as I studied the fit of the tailored black pants, burgundy cable-knit shirt, and black sports coat, I felt like I was dressing for some upper-class dinner, not my day-to-day life.

  Who dressed like this?

  “Stop complaining,” Xander said through the door. “I didn’t give you anything that was too patterned or overly bright. I kept to the darker shades to match your winning personality. So get your ass out here and show me the first one.”

  This was ridiculous, and if someone asked me why I’d agreed to this plan, my only excuse was that Xander had caught me in a weak moment, before the sun came up.

  I ran a hand through my long strands and again thought about how I needed to get it cut, then I turned and reached for the door handle.

  As I went to unlock it, Xander called out, “Don’t even think about coming out of there unless you have a different outfit on than you walked in with.”

  Damn, who knew Xander was such a bossy shit? “I have on a different outfit. Jesus, calm down already.”

  I pulled open the door, and like he’d been standing with his ear to it, Xander reared back. As he straightened and his eyes landed on me, they widened a fraction.

  “See, I told you. I look ridiculous in this designer shit. Give me jeans and a t-shirt any day.”

  Xander held a hand up and took a step toward me. “You’re wrong. This, this is…” He narrowed his eyes as he looked me over. “Where’s the belt?”

  “Huh?”

  “The belt?” Xander brushed by me and stepped into the dressing room. When he came back out with a black leather belt, I screwed my nose up.

  “I don’t need that. The pants fit fine.”

  “It’s not to hold them up, it’s to finish off the look.”

  As he stepped in close to me and reached for the bottom of my shirt, his fingers brushed against the bare skin of my abdomen, and the unexpected touch created a spark of electricity that nearly made me jump away from him.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  Xander frowned as though I was a moron, and considering he’d just told me what he was doing, I guessed that was how I sounded.

  “I was going to thread the belt. But here, tuck your shirt in and put this on.”

  “Who tucks in a cable knit?”

  “If it’s lightweight, there’s nothing wrong with tucking it in.” Xander cocked his head to the side. “And who here has worked with designers and knows what he’s talking about?”

  Grumbling, I turned to face the mirror and did as I was told. Once everything was in place, I let out a belabored breath and turned back to face my “stylist.”

  “Well?” I said. “I was right, wasn’t I? It looks better without the belt.”

  “Stop talking.”

  I found myself doing as Xander said again, and as he walked around behind me, I suddenly felt very self-conscious about what he was thinking. Why, I had no fucking idea.

  “Wow.”

  I looked over my shoulder. “Wow, what?”

  Xander didn’t look annoyed, didn’t look pissed off. He looked—

  “You should get this outfit.”

  —impressed.

  As he walked back around to stand in front of me, I stood a little taller under his inspection. I squared my shoulders and puffed out my chest. I figured if I could impress Alexander Thorne—my biggest critic—then maybe this outfit wasn’t so bad after all.r />
  “You like it, huh?”

  “I just said you should get it, didn’t I?”

  “Yeah, but I’m asking you what you think. Like, if we didn’t know each other, and I was walking down the street? Would this make you do a double take?”

  “But I do know you.”

  “Yeah, but if you didn’t.” I wasn’t sure why or what I was pushing for.

  Xander pointed to the dressing room and said, “Would you get back in there? You have five other outfits to try on and this is just the first store,” and I felt frustrated by his lack of response.

  I headed back into the dressing room, and just as I went to shut the door, Xander said, “Sean?”

  “Yeah?”

  “If I didn’t know you, there’d be no double take, just the one. That outfit makes it difficult to look anywhere else.”

  Well, what do you know. “You think I’m hot.”

  “And that is why I didn’t answer.”

  “You totally think I’m hot in this…this fancy-schmancy getup.”

  “Uh-huh.” Xander let out a bored sigh. “You’re so hot, Sean. I’m not sure how I’m resisting you right now.”

  “Ha. Say what you want, but you already admitted it. You think I’m hot, and I think you’re right. Maybe I should’ve had you and Bailey picking my clothes out for me all along.”

  “Oh God. Would you listen to yourself? Not all gay men are into shopping and designer clothes. In fact, your brother hates shopping. Please, be a little more obnoxious. It’s reminding me of who you really are.”

  “Eh, you’ve always known who I am.”

  “And suddenly I’m wishing I didn’t.”

  I flashed a toothy grin his way, and when Xander returned a scowl, I laughed and shut the dressing room door. I had five more outfits to go, and if Xander’s response to the first was anything to go by, maybe this painful experience would be over much sooner than I’d anticipated.

  All in all, this shopping thing wasn’t so bad.

  15

  Xander