X: The Hard Knocks Complete Story (10 page)

Xavier’s smile widens. “Great. I’ll come to Larry’s and pick you up. When is your shift over?”

“Eleven.” This feels like a date, and I know I shouldn’t get my hopes up, but I can’t help the pure elation that engulfs me at the thought of spending more time with him.

“I’ll pick you up then.” His eyes drift down to my lips.

“Okay.” My mouth betrays me and, completely ignoring one of our friendship rules, drifts open.

My heart thunders in my chest. Oh my God. This is it.

I’m finally going to feel his lips on mine.

I close my eyes. The heat from his skin radiates around me, and my chest heaves. I want this more than I can even express, and I can’t wait to finally move to the next level with him.

The moment his lips press against my forehead, my brow furrows and my shoulders sag as my hopes are instantly crushed.

Xavier chuckles, knowing he’s teasing me as he pulls away. “I believe no open-mouthed kissing was your rule, not mine.”

I twist my lips and fight the sudden urge to kick myself. My stupid good-girl rules are coming back to bite me in the ass.

“Right.” I sigh.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says as he presses his lips to my forehead again. “Goodnight.”

He pulls away without another word, and my entire body sags.

As he turns and heads toward his bike, my eyes instantly focus on his backside. There’s no denying the man has a great ass. I don’t think any woman in the world would disagree with me on that. But just like most dangerous things, it’s forbidden for a reason, and I can’t allow myself to get swept up in what feels like the beginning of an epic romance. His words of warning should be enough to scare me away, but they don’t. There’s no fighting this pull I feel toward him, no matter how foolish I know I’m being.

T
he last few
days have been a blur. My life has consisted of working and Xavier, and it’s been perfect.

I finish applying my lip-gloss just as Quinn walks into our room. “Is Mr. Sexy coming to pick you up again tonight?”

A heated blush creeps into my cheeks. “Yes.”

“Damn. That man has it bad for you.” She slides in next to me and checks her hair. “That’s what—the fifth night in a row?”

“Sixth.” I giggle. “But who’s counting?”

She bumps her hip into mine. “You, obviously. Are you sure you aren’t having sex with him yet? It’s pretty hard to believe that one of the sexiest men on the planet picks you up from work everyday, just to take you to some crappy diner, without even getting desert, if you know what I mean.”

I shrug. “We’re friends. There’s nothing sexual going on between us.”

Quinn tilts her head. “It’s only a matter of time before that happens, Anna. X isn’t stupid. He knows a girl like you can’t be rushed. How many days until he’s off vacation?”

“Two.” My shoulders sag.

I haven’t dwelled on the idea of what it will be like around here once Xavier leaves. Since I arrived, we’ve been practically connected at the hip. My new life consists of working at Larry’s and spending my nights at the diner with Xavier. I’m not ready for him to go yet.

“Aww.” Quinn wraps her arm around my shoulder. “Don’t look so sad, Anna-Banana. When he leaves, I’ll take you out and we’ll go hottie hunting to take your mind off him.”

I frown. “What about Brock? Aren’t you two working things out?”

She rolls her eyes. “We are, but he’s an ass most of the time. I don’t know why I even bother with him. If his ass didn’t look so great in a pair of jeans, I’d be a lot less forgiving every time he pisses me off.”

I laugh. “I don’t know if I’ll ever understand your relationship with him. You guys fight way more than you are nice to one another. If I didn’t know you two had something going on, I would swear you were mortal enemies.”

Quinn snorts. “There’s a thin line between love and hate, Anna. Remember that.”

A few hours later I find myself immersed in loud chatter of the restaurant patrons, trying to keep up with the orders. The crowd at Larry’s tonight is insane. It’s Bike Nite, and who knew there were so many riders in Detroit? Andy says tonight’s revenue helps sustain the business throughout the month when it’s not as busy. There’s not even a spare moment to chat with Quinn or the guys back in the kitchen.

As I punch in my next order I glance down at the clock on the computer, calling to Quinn, “We close in two hours. Does this slow down soon?”

She props her tray on her hip. “Yeah, this should be the last of it. Once we get these customers served, things should begin to die down.” I slide over and allow her to punch her order in. “Speaking of dying, did you see how pissed Alice got when X came in and avoided the bar area, heading straight for your section? I thought her head was going to explode. Her face was as red as her hair. You would think after all the times he’s been in here and passed by her section, she would accept he’s not interested.”

I laugh. “She hates me.”

“Fuck her,” Quinn barks. “There’s a word for girls like her that starts with a ‘c’. That bitch is mean, and I think it’s funny X doesn’t give her the chance to shove her fake boobies in his face.”

I shake my head. “You’re too much.”

“Believe me, she deserves a little torture. Alice has had things go her way around here far too long.”

“Order up, Quinnie!” Brock calls from the kitchen. “You too, Anna.”

She sighs. “Duty calls.”

I load my orders on the tray and head out to deliver them on the floor. This is the most intimidating part of the job for me, carrying this heavy tray filled with food, but I’m becoming more comfortable with it.

I balance it carefully on the palm of my hand, praying I don’t spill it. The second I pass by the bar my foot gets caught on something, and I stumble, losing my balance.

Everything feels like it happens in slow motion. The momentum of the tray moving forward is unstoppable, along with my fumbling steps. A collective gasp fills my ears, and I watch helplessly as the contents of the tray hit the floor and the plates shatter before both of my knees hit the ground.

It takes everything in me not to cry. Even though I know accidents happen, I feel like a failure. The sight of the broken plates confirms my earlier speculation that maybe I’m not so cut out for the real world after all.

“What the hell happened?” I glance up at Andy, who is sizing up the mess with a furrowed brow. “Are you hurt?”

“Are you kidding?” Alice snickers. “Her ass is fat enough to cushion her landing.”

“Watch it, Alice,” Quinn barks as she helps me up and asks, “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” I dust off my knees and pause when I see the scarlet liquid on my fingertips.

Xavier pushes past my cousin and scans me from head to toe.

“You’re bleeding.” He scoops me up into his massive arms and shifts his gaze to Andy. “Where’s your first aid kit?”

“On the wall in my office, through the kitchen,” Andy replies, and Xavier takes off in that direction.

My eyes trace Xavier’s concerned face. “I can walk, you know.”

He shakes his head. “There could be glass in that cut. No walking until I look at it.”

“I didn’t know you were a doctor too,” I tease.

He smirks. “Don’t be a smartass. I just know a lot about fixing wounds.”

Xavier sets me on Andy’s desk and grabs the kit off the wall. Without any hint of hesitation he rifles through the box, searching for the correct supplies to treat my leg. His last words ring in my ears, reminding me there’s so much about him I don’t know about.

He brings over a bottle of peroxide and gauze and sets the open box next to me. He pours a capful of solution and opens one of the sterile bandages. “This won’t hurt. I just need to clean it up.” After I nod, he holds the gauze below the small cut on my knee and pours the peroxide into the wound. It bubbles and fizzes—flushing the germs out before he dumps another capful into it. His eyes inspect the cut, and I know the logical reaction would be for me to be worried about the pain, but all I can focus on are his large hands on my body. The tenderness of his touch causes my stomach to flip. “You don’t appear to have any glass in there—looks like just a bad scrape.”

He dabs some triple antibiotic ointment on a clean wad of gauze and applies it to the cut before covering it with a bandage. His skill amazes me. My father would never have been able to do that. Injuries like this were always handled by my mother, which makes me wonder why Xavier is so good at it. “Where did you learn how to do all this?”

He shrugs. “Just something I learned over time. I’ve always had to take care of myself, you know.”

One corner of my mouth pulls down into a small frown. “Did your mom teach you?” I know the question is prying, and he’s told me he doesn’t talk about his family, but I can’t help wondering what happened to him when he was a little boy.

Xavier blows a rush of air through his nostrils. “My mom died when I was a kid.”

I gasp and instantly wish I could take back my nosy question. “I’m so sorry. That’s terrible. How old were you?”

He swallows hard and tosses the open packages in the trash. “Eight.”

My heart instantly crushes in my chest. I can’t imagine losing someone as important as your mother at such an early age.

I place my hand on his, attempting to comfort him, but he jerks away and shakes his head. “This is exactly why I don’t talk about my family. I hate pity. Don’t feel sorry for me.”

I flinch at the sudden change in tone. “I’m sorry, I just…I want you to know I’m here for you…if you ever want to talk about her.”

He closes the box and latches it shut. “I’ve done just fine not talking about her for this long, and I’d prefer to keep it that way. She’s dead. I’m over it.”

I can tell by the pained expression on his face that’s far from the truth. “It’s okay to miss her—”

“Enough!” he snaps. “Damn it. Are you always this nosy?”

“Are you always this evasive?” I fire back, unable to stop myself.

He directs his stern blue eyes to me in what I’m sure is a look that’s meant to get me to back off, but it doesn’t scare me. Not one bit.

“I just think that if you talked about her—”

“That what? I’ll suddenly be a better person. News flash, beautiful, that’s not how shit works in the real world. Dragging up things from the past only fucks with people’s heads more. It doesn’t magically heal them. People don’t talk about certain things for a reason, and believe me, I have mine.”

“It’s still not healthy. If you would just—”

“Why don’t you follow your own advice, huh? I saw the bruises on your arm that first day. Why don’t you tell me what made you really run away from home? What was so bad? Did your boyfriend beat you? Your father? Who?” The air whooshes from my lungs and he takes in my panicked expression. “It’s not so easy to talk about something
you
don’t want to, is it?”

Memories of the day I left home flood my mind. Thoughts of what I went through just to make it out of there cause a sob to rip out of me. Damn him for making me feel this way—for making me remember the hellish life I left behind.

“Damn it.” Xavier closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before opening them and reaching out to embrace me. “I’m sorry, Anna. I shouldn’t have…
fuck
.”

I shake my head as guilt washes over me, finally understanding why he didn’t want to talk about his past. The pain of my own past is hard to bear, and I can only imagine what he must feel like if his was worse than mine.

“I’m sorry too.” I bury my face in his chest and continue to cry softly.

We stay like that for a few minutes—both quiet and unmoving. For a moment it feels like whatever wall Xavier has built around himself comes down a bit, allowing me to see inside, if only for a brief moment. The memories that haunt him aren’t something he obviously wants to discuss, so I’ll respect that, but I hope one day he’ll trust me enough to let me in all the way.

Quinn clears her throat. “Everything all right in here?”

Xavier pushes away from me and takes in my tear-stained face. He grimaces, like the sight of me causes him physical pain, before stepping back. “I’ve got to go.”

Panic fills me. He’s pulling away just as I thought we were getting somewhere, and it scares me. I don’t know him well enough to know whether I’ll ever see him again, if he walks out this door right now. “Xavier…wait. Please.”

He shakes his head. “I can’t.”

I swallow hard as he zips past Quinn in the doorway and possibly out of my life forever.

I bite down on my lip and try to force the tears of abandonment away. It’s crazy to feel this way about him, but I can’t help it. There’s so much more to him than the tough persona he presents to the world. He’s hurting, and I just wish I knew how to help him.

“What was all that about?” Quinn asks the moment Xavier is out of earshot. “You sure you two aren’t sleeping together, because that felt fucking intense.”

I sniff and grab a tissue from Andy’s desk. “I think I just pushed him away.”

She tilts her head. “How did you do that?”

“He told me that he doesn’t talk about his family, and I couldn’t stop myself from prying. He got upset. We both said some things…then apologized, and now I’m not sure where we stand.” I wipe under my eyes, the black mascara staining the tissue. “I don’t know if I’ll ever see him again after this.”

Admitting out loud that I might not see him again causes another sob to rip through me. My cousin is instantly at my side, hugging me.

I wrap my arms around her, and she sighs. “Oh shit. This is worse than I thought. You have feelings for him already, don’t you?”

While it must be obvious that I do, saying it out loud makes it real, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that. But I have to give her something. Quinn won’t stop pushing me for details unless I do.

I close my eyes, and tear rolls down my cheek. “I don’t know what’s going on between us. All I know is the idea of never seeing him again…it scares me.”

She nods. “I completely understand. Things are still new between the two of you, and it’s hard to dig into heavy issues at this stage, but you can’t let him leave Detroit with this weight hanging between the two of you. You have to let him know you’re here for him.”

“What if he doesn’t want to see me again?”

Quinn smiles. “He does. Trust me. You should go after him.”

“Now?” I shake my head. “I can’t. What would Andy say if I just left in the middle of my shift?”

She waves me off. “I’ll tell him your leg hurt, and you needed to go home and rest. He’ll be so worried over the worker’s comp claim he won’t bat an eye about you leaving. Here,”—she digs in her pocket—“take my car.”

I furrow my brow. “Do you want me to come back and pick you up?”

“No.” She grins. “Brock will give me a ride.”

I raise my eyebrows. “I take it you two are getting along now?”

Her grin widens, and she licks her lips. “You could say that. We’ve been working on it the past two nights in the parking lot after work in the backseat of his car.”

I laugh and hop off the desk with only a minor stinging pain on my knee. “You guys are too much. Call me if you need a ride, and I’ll come back for you.”

“Will do. Speaking of calling…” Quinn pauses for a beat. “Did you call Uncle Simon yet?”

“No,” I whisper. “I’m still not ready to talk to him yet.”

Quinn frowns. “Okay, but you should consider doing that soon. Ma says he’s worried sick and been talking about flying out here so you’ll talk to him. It’s been a week, Anna. I don’t know how much longer Ma can stall him.”

I sigh. “I’ll do it tomorrow.”

That answer seems to satisfy her because she nods. “Good plan. Two overly emotional men in one night might be too much for you.”

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.