by Ella Frank
“I bet. I can’t remember the last time you brought a guy around here.”
Try never.
“Oh, except for Bailey. He was such a sweetheart.”
“Still is.”
“Well, yeah.” She sighed as she powdered my face. “Such a shame that didn’t work out. But at least the two of you are still friends.”
“The best. I can’t imagine my life without him in it.” As I reached for my coffee on the makeup counter and took a sip, Cynthia picked up the brush and blow dryer.
“And what’s he think about Sean? Did he give him the stamp of approval yet?”
I choked on the coffee, a fit of coughs erupting as Cynthia eyed me in the mirror.
“You okay?”
I cleared my throat and nodded. “Uh-huh. Just went down the wrong way. But yes, Bailey definitely likes him. Loves him, actually.” Which wasn’t a lie. Bailey did love his brother.
“Whew. For a second there I thought there was going to be trouble in paradise. There’s nothing worse than when the best friend disapproves of the boyfriend.”
Cynthia switched on the blow dryer before I could answer, and I couldn’t help but think how much Bailey would disapprove of the way I’d been feeling around his oldest brother lately.
Damn it. I hadn’t been lying when I said I couldn’t imagine my life without him in it, and I wasn’t about to let my confused anatomy ruin a lifelong friendship.
Sean and I were just playing roles that neither of us enjoyed. He was here to help keep me safe. Nothing more, nothing less.
But as I stared at my reflection, I was honest enough to admit to myself that if that were really true, I wouldn’t be imagining how good he would look in a tux. Not to mention just how vividly I could imagine him out of it.
25
Sean
“WE NEED TO talk.”
All evening, I’d been trying to decide the best way to approach Xander about the email Marcus had given me. I didn’t want to worry him more, but he needed to know this creep had reached out again.
If anything, “meant2bemine” seemed more determined than ever. Not to mention more pissed off.
“In my experience, nothing good ever comes after those four words. So do you mind if I get a glass of wine first?” Xander tossed his wallet and phone onto the kitchen counter and headed for the fridge.
“Sure thing,” I said, watching him go, and my eyes caught on the perfectly tailored cut of the charcoal suit he’d worn home tonight, and just how well it outlined his frame.
Okay, the fact that I was noticing his changing habits and just how well his suit fit him made my palms sweat a little. Since when did I pay attention to shit like clothes and complementary colors?
“I notice you’re not correcting me on the ‘nothing good ever comes after that’ bit,” Xander said as he grabbed a bottle of wine from the door.
Still caught up in my head, I ignored what he said. “Uh, you got a beer in there?”
Xander arched a brow, but then he nodded and leaned in to grab a Stella Artois.
“You want something to eat?” he asked as he slid it across the counter.
“Nah, I’m good. But if you want something, go ahead.”
Xander took a wine glass from one of the cabinets. “I had a quick bite at the station, but I know you didn’t, so…”
“I’m okay, Xander. Just get what you need and then we’ll chat.”
Xander slowly pulled the cork out of the bottle, his curiosity obvious. But that’d be cleared up soon enough.
I looked to his living room, and then the doors that led out to the balcony. Maybe it’d be better to give him this news outside. I didn’t want to taint his home by allowing this asshole entrance—even if only through a letter.
“How about we go and sit on the balcony?”
“The terrace.”
I shrugged. “Same thing.”
“They’re not, actually,” Xander said as he walked toward the double doors leading outside. “A balcony is usually a small space situated off a portion of the upper floor. Whereas a terrace is a patio, or full living space attached to the outside of a building. Hence, a rooftop terrace.”
As the doors shut behind us, Xander turned to see me standing just outside the door.
“You don’t really care about any of that, do you?”
“Not really. But I’m getting used to you schooling me in my lack of knowledge when it comes to you and your upper-class ways.”
“That’s not what I was—” Xander sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to lecture you.”
I smirked and took a swig of beer before walking over to him. “It’s okay. I’m getting used to that too.”
“My upper-class ways?”
“The lectures.”
Xander grimaced and stared out at his multimillion-dollar view of Lake Michigan. “I don’t know why I do that with you. I don’t with anyone else.”
“Lecture them?”
“Yes. What does it matter if you call it a balcony or a terrace? I knew what you meant.”
“I don’t know. Maybe you just like the fight?”
“The fight?”
“Yeah.” I rested my arms on the thick stone rail that surrounded the entire upper floor of the building. “You know that if you poke at me I won’t just roll over and agree with you. Maybe you like that. Someone giving you a run for your money.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Xander screwed his nose up. “Who likes fighting with people?”
My lips twitched. “You do. You constantly fight with me.”
“No, I—” Xander stopped himself from doing just that. As his eyes roved over my face, I wondered what exactly he saw now when he looked at me.
Bailey’s brother? His unwanted bodyguard? Or the man he’d had to put up with most of his life and now found himself stuck with?
But before I did something stupid like ask, Xander said, “You wanted to talk to me?”
I nodded, set my beer down on the flat surface of the railing, and reached into my pocket.
As I pulled out the folded paper, Xander straightened. “What’s that?”
“An email.” I looked him in the eye, knowing I needed to be direct with this. No sugarcoating. Xander needed to know what was going on, and I needed to be honest with him. “It’s from the same guy, meant2bemine. Marcus gave it to me this afternoon. It looks like our plan worked.”
“Your plan,” Xander said.
“Yes, my plan. He saw us together—several times would be my guess. But he wrote and sent this last night. Seems he doesn’t like the competition.”
Xander brought his glass to his lips, seeming to need the liquid courage, and then licked his lower lip. The action caused a stirring in my gut, and I took a step toward him.
Xander looked me in the eye, and the courage and bravery I saw made my admiration for him grow tenfold.
“What does it say?” Xander pointed to my hand. “The email. It’s bad, isn’t it?”
I ran my fingers across the top of the paper and nodded. There was no easy way to say it, no chance of making the words any less threatening or disgusting. So I held the paper out to him, and when Xander took it, I watched him closely, gauging his response.
It wasn’t easy. Xander had one hell of a poker face. As his eyes followed the words from left to right down the page, blood began to pound in my ears.
“Xander?”
He said nothing, just stared at the email, and if it hadn’t been for the slight tremble in his hand, I wouldn’t have thought he was affected.
“Xander?” When he still didn’t look up, I reached for his wrist, and he flinched away from me. “Hey,” I said, holding my hands up. “It’s okay.”
“This…” Xander licked his lip, a habit I now recognized as nervous. “This is very…personal.”
I slowly nodded. “It is.”
“What he says here…” He turned the page around and pointed to the line. But I already knew which one he meant. “About tying me t
o the bed and, um, and—”
“I know what it says,” I said. “He’s just trying to scare you.”
“It’s working.” Xander’s fingers tightened on the paper, and he turned away, bracing himself with his other hand on the rail. “God, Sean.”
He took in a deep breath and then let it out. “I’ve been trying not to stress about this and become a paranoid nutcase who jumps at every single sound. But I have to tell you, it’s getting harder and harder every day.”
“I know.” I carefully moved alongside him and studied his profile. With the breeze ruffling his thick hair across his forehead, I took in the straight line of his nose, his full lips, the stubble lining his prominent jaw line, and felt my cock jerk.
Shit, what was going on with me? Xander was dealing with some fucking psycho, and I was standing here, what? Checking him out?
Jesus. I mean, I’d always had a healthy sex drive. It was a great way to relieve some of the tension after weeks on a case. But never in all those years had I gotten caught up and distracted by a man. And definitely not Xander—
“There’s an award ceremony this weekend.”
As Xander’s voice cut through my confused thoughts, I refocused on the email in his hand. Anywhere but on his face, the face I’d grown up looking at. The face that I’d never thought twice about until now…apparently.
“There is?”
“Yes. The NPF Awards, National Press Foundation. It’s held every year. There’s dinner and a ceremony.”
“Huh,” I brilliantly responded as I tried to pull my shit together. “I didn’t know that.”
“Why would you?”
“I don’t know. I know about the Oscars and stuff.”
“Weren’t you the one who told me I wasn’t quite that famous?”
“Yeah, I suppose I was.” I flashed a crooked smile, satisfied my brain was back on track—for now. “But I’ve discovered over the last week or so that in the news world, you’re basically Tom Cruise-level famous. Lemme guess, you’re up for an award, right?”
“Three, actually. I was told last month and completely forgot about it until today, when someone mentioned it. I’m sorry.”
“Hey, it’s okay. You’ve had a lot going on, and you’re telling me now.” I rubbed my chin as I thought over a few things. “I am going to need you to tell me everything you know about the event, though, and who’s running it. That way I can get into contact with them today or tomorrow and see if I can get another guy to come help out.”
“God. I fucking hate this.”
“Anyone in your situation would. This guy’s disrupting your life.”
“No,” Xander whispered, his eyes filled with an emotion I’d never seen before—terror. “I don’t care about that, not anymore. What I can’t stand is how scared I am. I’m scared of my own damn shadow these days, Sean. And I hate that he has that power. I hate that I’m giving it to him.”
26
Xander
NEVER IN ALL my life had I felt so exposed, so open, and not because I was standing outside with nothing surrounding me but the rest of Chicago’s high rises. All because some asshole had invaded my life, my mind, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to get him out.
“You’re not giving it to him,” Sean said, and though I wanted to believe him, I found it difficult.
“No? Then why do I want to lock myself in my bedroom and not come out until he’s caught? I feel like a fucking coward.”
Sean reached for my arm and turned me toward him, and I realized just how close we were.
“You are not a coward.”
I averted my gaze, not wanting to see what he really thought lingering on his face. Sean took my chin between his fingers and turned my face to him, and I sucked in a breath.
There was no judgment in his dark blue eyes, no disapproval, just a bone-deep concern that I found difficult to fight.
“You’re dealing with a situation that most people will never even have to think about in their life. And as the person who’s usually called to investigate the horrendous ending to that kind of thing, your impulse to lock yourself in your bedroom isn’t all that shocking. If I had my way, I’d lock you in there myself.”
While I knew he meant that regarding keeping me safe from the lunatic chasing me, my stomach flipped at the idea of being locked in my bedroom with Sean.
I swayed in closer to him, the feel of his fingers touching my skin, and his eyes that were promising to keep me safe from danger all making me want to put my life in his hands—and maybe some other parts of myself too.
“That doesn’t seem very smart, locking myself away,” I finally said. “We have no idea how long I’d be there. We don’t even know who this person is.”
“I wouldn’t care.” Sean’s fingers tightened a fraction, and that slight pressure against my jaw made my heart thump. “You’d be safe.”
This was dangerous. Not just the threat against my life, but what Sean was doing to my peace of mind. My breath caught at the fierce determination behind his words, and when I slicked my tongue across my bottom lip and his eyes fell to the move, warning signs began to flash before my eyes.
This—what I was feeling—wasn’t real. It was just a response to feeling so alone, so vulnerable, and I needed to remember that. Just as I needed to remember that Sean was straight. Straight and so completely not who I needed to go to for comfort at a time like this. He didn’t even realize what he was doing to me right now, the way his attention was bringing to life emotions that would never have seen the light of day if it hadn’t been for this specific set of circumstances. Right?
“Sean…”
“Hmm?”
I reached up and circled his wrist, and as soon as my fingers touched his skin, he jolted as though I’d shocked him, and we both dropped our hands. “I don’t think barricading myself in my bedroom is going to stop him, do you?”
Sean blinked as though trying to clear his head, and I understood the sudden confusion. If he was experiencing anything remotely like what I was, then his brain was firing off nonsensical notions that were clouding his reality.
“Sean?”
“Sorry,” he said, and cleared his throat. “No. I don’t think so. He’s fixated.”
I nodded. “Right. So for now we…?”
Sean rubbed his fingers over his lips, and I found myself watching the move much more closely than I would have a month ago, a week ago. Hell, a couple of days ago.
“We keep doing what we’re doing. We’re clearly getting to him. He believes the act and is infuriated by it, which means he’s more likely to fuck up and give us a better chance of locating him.”
Well, that sounded…terrifying. “I don’t know if I can do that.”
“You can. I know you can. And I’m going to be right there with you the entire time. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “Okay.”
“Okay.” Sean ran a hand through his hair and then leaned against the rail. “So, uh, about this award thingy. How fancy is it?”
“How fancy?”
“Yeah. You said it’s dinner and a ceremony, so I figure it’s pretty uppity, huh?”
Oh yeah. I grimaced, knowing he wouldn’t like the answer to this. “It’s black tie.”
“A tux?” Sean groaned. “Of course it’s a fucking tux.”
I wasn’t sure if it was the culmination of such a messed-up week or Sean’s put-out tone, but my lips twitched at his predictable response.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Uh-huh, because that smirk on your face really screams ‘nothing.’”
“I was just wondering if you’ve ever worn a tux before, that’s all.”
“That would be a no. Where would I ever wear a tux?”
“An award ceremony, I hope.”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t stress over there. I promise not to show up looking like I’m going to a frat house kegger.”
�
�A frat house kegger? Now, that sounds classy.”
“What can I say? I’m a classy guy.”
When I just stared at him, Sean laughed.
“Relax. If worse comes to worst, I’ll get your assistant Ryan to hook me up. He likes me. I’m sure he’d be happy to help.”
He wasn’t wrong. Ryan had taken a shine to him. It was strange, but up until this little charade, I’d only ever been around people who had a preconceived idea of who Sean was. So to see someone so taken by his gruff kind of charm was…interesting, to say the least.
“I won’t let you miss your big award night.” Sean reached for his beer, and as he brought it to his lips, I headed toward the doors, ready to get inside and go to bed.
At the last second, though, I stopped and turned to give him back the email and nearly ran into Sean.
“Shit, sorry,” he said as he reached for me and I righted myself.
“That’s okay.” My voice sounded odd, breathy, as I stared up at the man I’d argued with more times than I could remember, and my world once again shifted, as did his place in it. “Sean?”
“Yeah.”
“I think you should let me go.”
Sean’s eyes roved over my face, and as I held my breath, waiting for him to realize what was going on and shove me away, he drew me closer.
“Sean…” I placed a hand on his chest and stared up at his blazing eyes.
This was insanity. But as the wind whipped up and ruffled his hair across his forehead, I wanted nothing more than to move up to my toes and brush my lips over his.
“Let me go,” I said again, the suggestion a whisper on the wind, and when Sean released me, I handed him the letter and took a step back. “Good night.”
Sean looked down to the paper. “Yeah, night.”
I disappeared inside and hightailed it to my room, deciding that barricading myself in there for the next however many hours didn’t seem like the dumbest idea after all.
27
Xander
THE STEADY BEAT of Fall Out Boy blared through my headphones the following morning as my feet pounded against the belt of the treadmill. I was coming up to the final mile in my workout, and as I cut my eyes to the opposite side of my indoor pool area where Sean was lounged back watching the TV, I tried to block out the weird tension that had settled between us since last night.
