12 Days Of Forever (6 page)

Oliver isn’t anything like Xander when it comes to sex. Oliver is boring–I guess

it’s how I’d describe him after what I experienced last night. Lights off, only in a bed and always at night. Maybe it’s age, or maybe it’s me. And maybe Xander is just a better lover or maybe Oliver thinks I’m the one who’s boring.

No, Xander isn’t a lover, at least not to me. He probably thinks of me as a slut for what I did last night. Going there with a plate of food as my excuse to see him was wrong. It was like an out-of-body experience, except I enjoyed every tantalizing moment.

I welcomed every touch, and every caress. I begged for him to grab my hips and pull me roughly against him. And when I kissed him–that’s when I knew I couldn’t stay there. I would’ve ended up in his bed and never left. He made me feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman—minus the paid-for sex part.

The sex was . . . like nothing I had ever experienced before. It was sensual and

erotic and all consuming. It was everything and nothing I thought a random hook-up would be. Xander could’ve taken control at any time, but he let me lead the way. He was patient and willing to submit to my desires. From the moment he took his shirt off, I knew that I was going to do whatever I could to get close to him. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to be the one who wiped the sweat away from his torso. I wanted to be able to feel his muscles flex because of my touch. Watching him in the mirror as I danced made my body tingle with anticipation of what he and I could be together. I wanted to know what he felt like against my body. If I could play that on rewind, I would. Just

remembering that moment is enough to have me running back to his gym just to stare at the piece of furniture that withstood everything he was giving me.

I sit down in the center of the mall and people watch. From my vantage point, I

have a clear view of the candy store, the mall Santa Claus, a hat store, plus all the kiosks that clog up the open mall space during the holidays. My fingers crumple the piece of paper in my jacket pocket. It’s my Christmas list and there are only two things on there: one for Harrison and the other for Quinn. I’m at a loss as to what I should buy for the twins or Katelyn. Fact of the matter is, I don’t know them well enough to shop for them.

If I were still in New York, I’d probably send something from FAO Schwartz for the twins, but I’m here and I’ll be watching them open their gifts on Christmas morning.

Impression is everything.

Buying for Katelyn shouldn’t be too bad, but it is. My brother spoils her, dotes on her. She mentions that she likes something and it’s in the house the next day. When he does stuff like that it makes it hard for my mom and me to buy her something special.

And that’s my conundrum–what do I buy three of the most important people in my

brother’s life for Christmas?

I sigh heavily as two ladies walk by. They give me a dirty look and for the life of me I can’t understand why. Do they not feel the holiday pressure? Maybe this is telling me that I’m not cut out for family life, that being single and living in an apartment in one of the busiest cities is all that I’m meant for.

I remove the tattered piece of paper from my pocket and roll it into a ball. I unroll and roll again just out of frustration.

“What did that paper do to you?” Xander’s voice startles me, and instantly my

heart starts racing and my body takes me back to the gym . . . the weight bench . . . and his hands gripping my hips. He’ll never know this, but he left bruises. He marked me, and I enjoyed it.

He sits down next to me and rests his elbows on his legs. He turns and looks at

me. I can’t maintain eye contact because I’m embarrassed about what we did, about what I did and how I left things. We hold each other’s gazes until I have to look away. I’m afraid if I stare at him too long, I’ll see something that might scare me, like the truth about our one night stand.

“I’m glad I ran into you,” he says.

“Oh yeah, why’s that?” I can’t imagine why he wants to even talk to me.

“I don’t like the way things were left the other night. That’s not who I am, and I’m pretty sure that wasn’t you either.”

I scoff. “It was me, I was there.” I play it off like our night together was no big deal. I don’t want him to see through me, to see the anguish I’m dealing with. The thought of him telling me to leave or him thanking me are other factors for me bailing as soon as he went to the bathroom.

He sits up, and shakes his head. “I’m not talking about that, I’m talking about how things were when you left.”

I turn slightly to face Xander and wish I hadn’t. Seeing him here like this and

sitting next to me makes me wish the other night didn’t happen. But it did and now I have to pay the price. “Look, I’m sorry about last night. It never should’ve happened. I put you in a horrible situation, and that’s wrong. I can understand if you don’t want to be friends and avoid me like the plague until I’m gone. I promise not to make the holidays

uncomfortable for you. I’ll be out of town in no time.”

Xander’s lips go into a thin line as he shakes his head. Disappointment masks his features. Who knew coming clean about being a psycho was a bad thing?

“Sometimes I think you talk too much. I don’t regret the other night. Yes, there

are some things I’d like to change, but being with you, like that . . . I’ve never felt so out of control and completely calm in my life. You’re like this pint-sized hurricane that’s rolling through town, and I’m the weather man chasing the storm. I’m not gonna lie, last night was amazing—different, but worth it. You’re like a fantasy come true.”

Xander pauses and watches the shoppers. There’s a group of young kids, a few

with their arms around each other that seem to be having a good time. They’re laughing and carrying on. One of the guys is even holding his girlfriend’s shopping bags.

“I think you and I got off on the wrong foot, and so what if we did things a little backwards? You’re here for a week or so and need to have a good time. It just so happens that I’m available if you’re interested.”

Xander juts out his arm, giving my hand a resting place if I chose to accept.

“One condition,” I say, putting the power back into my hands.

“What’s that?”

“That you don’t tell my brother, Liam or Jimmy what happened.”

Xander laughs that stupid guy laugh where he’s not sure if he’s been caught or if he’s heard something stupid. He picks up my hand and places his lips there in one of the sweetest moments of my life.

“I’d never tell your brother, or anyone else for that matter, about us. That’s

between us, and only us. I know the guys gossip like women, but I’m still on the outside.

And even though I have your brother’s blessing, I think I’d rather keep our escapades between us.”

“Excuse me, what?” I ask, confused as to why he was asking Harrison for his

blessing. “You asked my brother?”

Xander puts his hands up. “It’s not what you’re thinking. He came to me, and said he wouldn’t have a problem if we dated.”

“Oh,” I say, immediately feeling stupid. “That’s just . . . I don’t have a dad, ya know? He died when I was a baby and Harrison has always been the man of the house.

So, wow, I guess he approves of you.” I try to force a smile, but fail miserably. Xander pulls me into his arms, and I use this to my advantage to smell his cologne. He smells like home. I know it sounds odd, but it’s the best way to describe it. I feel at ease in his arms.

“I’m sorry about your dad; Harrison never mentioned it. And for the record, I’m

happy he gave me permission because I’d like to spend as much time with you as

possible until you leave.”

I pull away and wipe under my eyes. I’m not crying, but my eyes are misty. “I

think I’d like that too. It sucks being the fifth wheel.”

Xander laughs, and it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve heard in a long time. “You

have no idea.”

Chapter 8–Xander

Bumping into Yvie at the mall was not by mistake. Quinn is quite the little

matchmaker when he wants to be. I know it’s wrong asking a child for dirt on his aunt, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I needed to see her, so I went to Harrison’s. She wasn’t there, but Quinn was all too forthcoming with the fact that she left to go shopping. Fate was on my side when I walked in and there she was, sitting in the

“man” section as Liam calls it.

I stood there, watching her for a few minutes before approaching. Truth be told, I was working up the nerve to face her. What she and I did last night was every fantasy I’ve ever had, but I never thought it would play out like that. Now every time I close my eyes, I see her in the mirror begging me with her eyes. My gym will never be the same after last night. Her body is nothing like the women I see coming in and out of the gym. Her long legs and dancer body are a turn on, and I didn’t know that’s what I’d be attracted to until I saw her.

Sitting next to her, I find myself wanting to take her back to my house. Not for

sex, although I wouldn’t rule that out, but just to be with her in private. To hold her, to be the shoulder she leans into when the movie we’re watching is too sad or she’s scared. I find myself wanting to cook her dinner and massage her feet after a long day of

rehearsals. The latter is a long-term dream that I don’t foresee happening. I shouldn’t even be thinking past the end of the week. She’s not staying here.

The urge to hold her hand is strong, but I resist. I think she needs a friend, not some horny ass man trying to get in her pants. Besides, Harrison mentioned that her producer used to be her boyfriend. I don’t want to think that the other night was a rebound fuck, but the thought has been plaguing my mind.

Thing is, I can see Yvie as someone with whom to settle down. The only problem

in my thought process is that she’s a big city girl who doesn’t need small town life. It has nothing to offer her and frankly, neither do I. When you’re someone like Yvie James–

performing on Broadway–the last thing that looks appealing is a gym owner.

My problem is that I overthink everything. Yvie and I are both adults and capable of making our own decisions. I could go down the friends’ route and just hang out with her while she’s here, or I can break my own heart and put it all out there for her. The third option is to do both. Take whatever this connection is between us and make the best of it, and if that means we end up naked and on my weight bench with her legs straddling me, so be it. I’ll just be there when she gets on the plane and heads back to New York City.

I take her hand in mine and start walking. She has a list of presents to buy and if it means I get to spend the day with her, I’m going to brave the crowds.

“Who do you have left to buy for?” I ask her as we meander through the hoards of

people.

“The twins,” she says as she lets out a sigh. I can’t tell if it’s from frustration or if she’s just being dramatic.

I laugh, hoping to put her at ease. “Is that a good thing?”

“No, it’s not. I don’t know them very well so I’m really not sure what to buy

them. With Quinn, it’s easy. With Peyton and Elle, not so much.”

One of the benefits of living in Beaumont is going to be my savior. “I can help,

you know, if you want me to? I’ve spent some time with them and know what they like.”

Yvie stops us, much to the disgruntled shoppers who have to move around us.

“Am I a bad aunt for not spending more time with them?”

I move us to the side so we aren’t bumped and pushed by others. “Many people

live away from their relatives. You can’t think that you’re a bad aunt because you don’t know what the girls like. Quinn grew up with you and the twins have only just come into your life. You need time to get to know them.”

“I know, but how do I do that living in New York?”

“Tell Harrison that he has to bring the kids to you for at least a month every

summer,” I say with a smirk. Her face lights up acknowledging that I am a genius.

“C’mon, twinkle toes, let’s get this shopping done.” I put my arm around her shoulders and pull her into me. It’d be so easy to capture her lips, but I refrain. I opt for the ever platonic kiss on the forehead and call it good.

Within two steps of entering the holiday foot traffic, my hand drops from her

shoulder, my fingers entwining with hers. It’s more intimate, at least for me. I direct Yvie to a very girly store. I’ve seen these bags litter the James’ house so I know one of the girls likes to shop here. My guess is Elle. She’s the princess in the making, always trying to steal the spotlight. It’s not hard with how shy Peyton is, and without a doubt Quinn is her protector. I’ve been around enough to watch him with her. He’s always in front, guarding her from whatever may come her way.

“I think a bottle of Pepto Bismol exploded in this store,” Yvie says, as soon as we step in. She’s right; it’s very pink.

“This is Elle’s favorite store.”

Yvie nods and starts looking around. I hang back, waiting to see what she picks

out. I bought the kids a couple of board games. As much as they include me, I still feel like I’m on the outside a little. They’ve all known each other for years and are a family through and through. I’m just thankful they’ve invited me to be a part of their lives.

“What do you think of this?”

“Um, what is that?” All I see is something pink, short and lots of ruffles.

“It’s a tutu, but one that Elle could wear to school.”

I shrug. “You’re the woman here. All I can tell you is that she’s very girly.”

Yvie bites her lip and nods, and I find myself wanting to rub her lower lip and kiss away the pain she’s causing it. I have to stop thinking like this. The last thing I want to do is confuse her about my feelings. Hell, I don’t want to confuse myself about my feelings.

The ones I’m having now are causing me enough grief.

I take the bag from Yvie as soon as she’s done paying. She looks at me and smiles, holding my gaze as she slips her hand back into mine. I could definitely get used to having her around, which tells me I need to put up a wall and shut off all emotions. She’s leaving, and I know I’m not enough to keep her here. Not that I’d even try. She’s a big city girl with big city dreams. She needs to fulfill those dreams in order to be happy.