The Saints of the Cross (24 page)

“Oh
God
, Christian,” I say, shaking my head. “What are you going to do?”

To my surprise, my heart is absolutely breaking for him and for Camilla. What she must be going through right now, I can’t even imagine. I give him the time he needs to collect himself. Finally, he looks up at me, and there’s no antagonism on his face. There’s no self-pity. It’s just Christian and me.

“There’s nothing I can do but wait until the baby is born, and then I’ll take a DNA test. By the looks of the girl, it shouldn’t be more than a few months.”

“What are you going to do in the meantime, to save your relationship with Camilla?”

“I don’t think it can be saved. This is going to push her the rest of the way into Alexander’s arms.”

“Christian, trust me. There is nothing going on now between Camilla and Xander. I promise you. And there hasn’t been anything in a long time. You know why?” I look him pointedly in the face, and he shakes his head. “Because believe it or not, she is completely in love with you. She’d have to be, Christian, to put up with all of this crazy crap.”

His gaze goes distant as he contemplates what I’ve just said. Finally, he refocuses on me and says, “Thank you.” He gives me the first real smile that I think I’ve ever seen from him. Once again, I’m struck by how handsome he is, but now I see his vulnerability, too.

“May I make a suggestion?” I ask carefully.

“Of course.”

“Stop going out with your mates. Avoid the drinking and the drugs—you’re not a cliché, Christian, you’re a human being. Focus on making Camilla happy, if you want to save your relationship.”

He looks at me and nods as if to say
easier said than done.
Then he rises from his barstool, leans over, and kisses me on the cheek. Our eyes meet for a moment, then he silently turns and heads back to the stage, shoulders slumped. I watch him go and wonder if anything will change. I hope it does for all our sakes. Like it or not, I’m falling for Xander, and I don’t think I can survive another broken heart in addition to all I’m dealing with right now.

I’m absentmindedly checking my cell phone, telling myself that I’m not looking for texts from Javier, when Xander suddenly appears next to me at the bar.

“Where’s Camilla?” I look around, but she’s nowhere to be seen.

“She went home. She’s not feeling well,” he says, raking his fingers through his hair and looking incredibly uncomfortable.

“We need to talk,” I say. He stops fidgeting and gives me a curious look.

“Okay. Why don’t we go somewhere else?” He takes my hand as I rise from the barstool. “Let’s go get that chocolate cake.”

CHAPTER 18

Xander and I are sharing a colossal piece of three-layer, chocolate decadent cake in a tiny diner down the street from Club Trinity. Scattered among the shiny, red vinyl booths are four or five couples enjoying their chicken fried steak and meatloaf specials. Two middle-aged men in trucker attire sit at the counter, feasting on a late-night breakfast of eggs and bacon. The air is thick with the aroma of fried food and cheap coffee. The only sound breaking up the dull, underlying hum of hushed conversation is the occasional clinking of dishes in the kitchen. It’s not a place I’d normally go for food, but this is the best chocolate cake I’ve ever had in my life, so I’ll definitely be back.

While we’ve been sitting here making small talk, I’ve noticed Xander is a million miles away. He hasn’t mentioned anything about why Camilla insisted we go to Club Trinity. Of course I already know why, but I haven’t said anything about it—yet. I want to find out if Xander will tell me. If he tells me, it would show that our relationship is honest.

Finally, Xander’s eyes focus on mine. He gives me a weak smile and says, “So what did you want to talk about?”

Obviously, he’s not going to make the first move and tell me what’s going on, so I’ll just have to bring it up myself.

“I don’t know how to approach this with you, so I’m just going to come right out and say it.” I lay my fork down and concentrate on his face. “Christian told me everything.”

“What did he tell you?”

“That a girl came into the bar tonight and announced she’s pregnant by him.”

“Wow, so he admitted it, huh?” Xander says, a smug look crossing his face. “I’m truly surprised that he fessed up to it.”

“That’s not all he said,” I continue. I don’t know if I should tell him everything I know, but I figure I might as well. It’s got to come out sometime. “He told me about you and Camilla. That you were a couple.”

“That’s a gross overstatement,” he scoffs, and I’m caught off guard.

“What does
that
mean?” I ask, a little too defensively.

“It means he exaggerated.” He sighs.

“Do you care to elaborate?”

He sucks in a deep breath and blows it out hard. He stares at me for what seems like forever. I can tell by the way his eyes are searching mine that he’s considering the consequences of what he’s about to say. I’m acutely aware that I need to keep my face neutral. I don’t want him to censor the truth to protect my feelings.

“Are you sure you really want to know?”

“I do want the truth. What have you two been hiding from me?” My voice wanes, and I dig my fingers into my thigh to try to steady my voice.

“I haven’t been hiding anything from you. I just haven’t told you everything.”

“If you haven’t told me everything, then you have been hiding something, Xander,” I point out.

He gives me a look, but continues. “Camilla and I were not really a couple, but something did happen between us the summer before our freshman year at Holy Cross.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, just go on and tell me. You might as well.”

“I want you to know that I did not intentionally keep this from you. It isn’t important to me or to Camilla anymore. It’s in the past. It’s not something to make a big deal out of—”

“Tell me, Xander.” I exhale and give him a warning look.

“This happened months shy of turning fifteen. We were hanging out at her house one Sunday afternoon while our parents were attending some fundraiser at the country club. Camilla wanted to listen to her dad’s old records up in the attic, so we took a bottle of McCutcheon from her parent’s liquor cabinet and went up there. We listened to everything from the Rolling Stones to the Beatles on an old turntable her father had kept from his college days. Camilla was dancing, and we’d had way too much scotch. The next thing I knew, she was kissing me. Everything happened so fast, it was over before I could even register what we were doing. What I remember most is that “Sweet Child O’ Mine” by Guns ‘N Roses was playing. I was too wasted to remember much of anything else.”

“So that explains the whole exchange between you and Christian at Club Trinity?” I say, and he gives me a perplexed look. “You know, when he played that song as we were leaving? There was a lot of hostility between you two.”

“Yes, I remember,” he grumbles. “I know he was trying to push my buttons by dedicating it to you. Apparently, Camilla told him about it. Why, I don’t know.”

“Because she uses it, and you, and the whole situation to make him jealous. And it works.”

“That’s doubtful. Christian is not jealous of me in any way.”

“He thinks you two still have something going on.”

“What? That’s ridiculous,” he scoffs again, but I just shrug. He stares at me with a stern look in his eyes. Finally, he asks, “Do you think we have something going on?”

“I don’t know what to think anymore.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like she’s the most important person in your life. I can’t compete with that—with everything you two have been through. Your entire history together is completely intimidating to me.” I hadn’t had time to actually sit and consider this, but it’s true. It’s a bitter pill to swallow and it’s leaving a horrible taste in my mouth.

“But—”

“No, I mean it. I don’t want to get hurt again. I have to focus all my energy on finding my mother, not sitting around feeling sorry for myself. I’m done with that.” I say this to Xander, but really I’m saying it to myself. It’s becoming clear to me that I’ve got to get rid of everything in my life that could possibly distract me from finding my mother. I can’t be mixed up in some ridiculous relationship drama.

Xander takes my hand across the table and looks pointedly into my eyes.

“I never want to hurt you. I never will. Whatever you need from me, I will give you. Whatever you want to know, I will tell you. I promise you that from here on out. Okay?” He gives my hand a reassuring squeeze, and I nod.

“I just want the truth,” I say, but frankly I’m tired of talking, tired of reasoning, and tired of trying. “Do you, or do you not, still have an on-again, off-again romantic relationship with Camilla?”

“I absolutely do not.”

“Then why does Christian think you do?” I ask.

“I have no idea. What happened back then was a mistake. It’s one of the reasons I don’t drink anymore, because I realized that I make exceedingly bad decisions when I drink. In the weeks after it happened, I was confused about where Camilla and I stood. She met Christian a couple days later, and it was as if nothing had happened between us. She was instantly crazy about him. Nothing has changed there. I guess I was hurt by the fact that she hooked up with him so soon after we were together. In my mind, I thought she loved me that day in the attic; but in reality, she didn’t. It’s true that she came back to me a few months later, after Christian cheated on her with another girl at Holy Cross. I may have been young, but I wasn’t stupid. I knew she was just trying to get back at Christian, so I told her no. I admit, it wasn’t easy, and she didn’t take the rejection well, but I don’t regret it.”

“Did you love her?” I’m seriously trying my damndest not to sound jealous, but their relationship is burning me up inside. I’m fairly sure that my discomfort is obvious, because every muscle in my face is twitching from my heroic effort to maintain a neutral expression.

Xander says, “I think I did, as much as any fifteen-year-old guy knows how to love someone. I still love her, but I’m not in love with her. I can definitely say that, now that I know the difference.” He raises his hand to caress the side of my face. Luckily for me, he doesn’t seem to notice the emotional firestorm going on right in front of him.

I guess I have to be okay with his explanation, if I want to continue to see him. Christian was right: the heart wants what the heart wants.

“Can we promise not to keep things from each other anymore, whether it’s intentional or not?”

“Of course I promise,” Xander says.

***

It’s just after midnight when Xander drives me home from the diner. The Virginia night sky is lit with starlight, which casts a magical glow over the passing countryside. When we arrive, the house is dark except for the dull-yellow porch light. Everyone must be in bed at this late hour. Xander and I sit in the Land Rover, staring at each other in silence for a few moments. The shadows dancing across his face accentuate the chiseled planes of his cheekbones and veil his golden eyes in dark mystery. When he leans over to kiss me, I meet him halfway. A mischievous spark lights his eyes, and I know instantly what he’s thinking. Our lips touch, and there’s a familiar sensation of white-hot electricity between us. My hands find the back of his neck as our mouths continue to search one another. His lips are soft, skilled, and sweet. My hands move up to the silky mass of curls that I find myself constantly fixated on when we’re together. I pull him closer to me. I arch my back, and his mouth moves downward, kissing my chin, then my neck, and finally my shoulder. I inhale a sharp breath when his hands slide up my thighs and under my skirt. A low-pitched sound escapes me as I exhale, and he smashes his lips to mine again.

I make the mistake of opening my eyes. To my utter dismay, there’s Ethan standing just outside the car on the driver’s side, staring at us through the window, and looking like he just stepped out of a V.C. Andrews novel. I scream because of the shock and weirdness of the moment. Xander stops his maddening exploration of my body and sits bolt upright. “What’s wrong?”

I nod toward Ethan, who’s still standing there, staring at us with the oddest expression on his face. Xander whips his head around and mutters an uncharacteristic, startled curse under his breath.

“What do you want, Ethan?” I shout, as I straighten myself out and pull my skirt down.

“Dad says it’s time to come in now,” he replies flatly.

“Jesus! Okay, I’ll be there in a minute,” I bark. “Now get lost!”

Ethan’s eyes narrow at me, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he turns around and casually walks up to the front door. I imagine he’ll be giving Dad a full report of what he saw in Xander’s Land Rover.
Wonderful
.
The chastity police.

“I am so sorry,” Xander says as he turns the car’s engine over. “I didn’t know he was standing there.”

“It’s not your fault that my brother is a little creeper.” I laugh, but the sound is undeniably angry. I’m not angry because he saw us, or that he’ll definitely tell Dad. I’m angry that he interrupted us. “Little brat freaked me out.”

“I didn’t mean to get so out of control,” he says in a serious tone. “Your driveway is not the place for that.”

“Yeah, I guess I got a little carried away, too.” I say in a wicked voice. “There’s something about these curls that makes me do crazy things.”

“Your curls
are
pretty amazing,” he says, touching my tousled hair.

“I’m talking about yours, silly,” I say and grab his hand. He laughs and raises my hand to his mouth to kiss it.

“I’ll pick you up at nine tomorrow.”

“You’re spending another Saturday with me?” I say in disbelief.

“Of course. I promised to help you find your mother, and that’s what we’re going to do tomorrow and Sunday,” he answers.

“Xander, what about lacrosse?” I am seriously worried that his involvement in the search for my mother is going to result in the loss of any collegiate recruitment opportunity for him. If he’s running all over the East Coast with me, how can he possibly have time to practice?

“In the grand scheme of things, lacrosse is dead last on the priority list.”

“I don’t want you to put your life on hold for me.”

“I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it for your mother,” he says, and there’s no hint of teasing in his voice. He’s looking at me with wide, innocent eyes, and I can’t help but sigh on the inside. “There’s something you should know. When I devote myself to a cause, I do it one hundred percent. I don’t half-ass anything important to me.”

“Promise me you won’t lose a scholarship over this.”

“Evie, I don’t need lacrosse to go to college. My family has plenty of money to send me.” He leans over and plants a kiss on my forehead. “Didn’t you know I play lacrosse for the glory and the chicks? Now that I’ve got the chick, who needs the glory?”