“You keep saying that, but I don’t understand why you think so? How do you know that you’re not my type? You’ve done nothing but keep me safe and watch out for me in this new city. You’re a great guy. I really like you.”
He furrows his brow and pulls his lips into a tight line. “You shouldn’t.”
The intensity in his stare causes me to swallow hard. “W—why?”
“There’s more to me than just the persona that the public sees. There’s darkness inside me that no one should have to experience, and that’s what I’m trying to protect you from. No one should have to live with my demons but me.”
The harsh reality hits me. There’s a lot about Xavier Cold that I don’t know. Some obvious issues he’s dealing with. He refuses to talk about his family, and he believes that he’s evil somehow. With all that being said, I still know there’s a lot of good in him—whether he sees it or not. I’m a perfect stranger, and he’s been there for me since the plane ride from Portland. He just needs to see that he’s a nice guy and that he’s not completely bad like he believes—that he deserves happiness too. Everyone does.
I reach over and touch his hand. There’s a slight flinch, and his harsh expression remains, but I don’t pull back. I want him to know we all have secrets we’d like to hide from the world.
“We all have things that haunt us—things we’d like to forget. The key is to not allow them to get in the way of our happiness.”
Xavier runs his hand along his scruffy jawline. “Not everyone’s meant to have happiness, Anna. Some of us are meant for the dark.”
“I don’t believe that.”
He levels his eyes on me. “That’s because you’ve got a good heart and like to believe that everyone is a good person underneath. I knew that from the moment you refused me on that plane. A girl like you…you aren’t meant for a guy like me.”
His tone is meant to scare me off, I can tell, but it’s doing the exact opposite. It’s pulling me toward him. Telling me to make him see that he’s wrong.
Nettie sets our food down on the table in front of us, redirecting my attention from Xavier and his self-loathing for the moment. As soon as the sweet smell of pancakes wafts around me, my mouth waters. Xavier wastes no time digging into his steaming food while I take my time applying butter to my pancakes.
“How long you got with us, Xavier?” Nettie asks as she leans her hip against the booth.
“The rest of the week, and then I have to fly to Atlanta for Tuesday Tension. If all goes well, I’ll be heading into a title match soon.”
“You sure are moving up. Did you hear that, Carl? Our boy is gon’ be champion.” she calls over her shoulder.
“I never had a doubt he would be. Not after the way he pummeled half the neighborhood around here.” Carl chuckles as he leans against the counter and stares up at the ceiling with a nostalgic twinkle in his eye. “Did you tell your little girlfriend here about the first time you met us?”
Xavier swallows his food. “We’re just friends. And no, I haven’t told her. She doesn’t need to know about that.”
“Ah, come on, X. It’s funny now. You’re not the same punk kid that came in here the first time. Go on. Tell her. She’ll get a kick out of it,” Carl says, antagonizing him.
That pesky curiosity of mine rears its beast of a head again, and I join in with Carl’s teasing, desperate for any glimpse of this man’s past. Desperate to know him better. “Please?”
He shakes his head. “I was stupid. It’s not worth repeating.”
“Not worth repeating? Man—”
Nettie cuts him off. “Hush, Carl. If Xavier doesn’t want to tell this girl about his past, let it go. I’m sure he’s got his reasons. Even though he should be proud of everything he’s overcome.”
“Well if he wants to keep who he is a secret from her, he shouldn’t have brought her ‘round here. The girl is bound to find out sooner or later.”
Xavier scrubs his hand over his face. “All right. Fine.” He turns his gaze back to me. “When I was seventeen, I robbed this place. I was hungry, needed money and it seemed like a good target since it was open late. I just didn’t anticipate the old man over there getting the best of me. Once Carl had a hold of me, it was over. No running away.”
I flinch. That’s not exactly a great story. That’s sad and tragic—not to mention mind-boggling—since I know he used to work here. Looking at him now and trying to picture the young man who must have been at the very edges of hunger to resort to such a violent act makes my heart ache. Even though I haven’t known him long, I sense that he’s not one for pity, so I do my best to keep my face straight as I ask, “I thought you said you used to work here?”
“I did.”
My eyes flit to Nettie and then back to Xavier. “You robbed your own employers?”
“Sugar, he didn’t work here when he did that. That’s what landed him the job,” Nettie says as she pats Xavier’s shoulder.
The skin on my forehead creases as I furrow my brow. “I guess I’m confused. Why would you give him a job if he tried to steal from you?”
Nettie waves me off. “The boy was hungry. We all do crazy things when we don’t have any other choice. We figured the law wouldn’t do a thang for ‘dis boy but corrupt him more by throwing him in jail. So instead of calling the cops, we offered him a job.”
My eyes drift over to Xavier, and he frowns as he gauges my reaction. That explains his rough edge. He was a street kid. He had to grow up tough. I’m not sure what he experienced with his family, but whatever it was, it was bad enough that he still doesn’t want to discuss them now. It’s obvious they mistreated him, but I wonder to what extent.
I straighten my shoulders and give Xavier a small smile, attempting to reassure him this doesn’t sway my opinion of his character. “Looks like you’re right, Nettie. He appears to have turned out just fine.”
A flicker of relief washes over his stoic expression as Nettie says, “I agree. He’s made such a turn around. The hardest part was—”
Xavier cuts her off. “It’s getting late, and we should really get going. How much do I owe you?”
“It’s on the house,” she replies as she gathers up his empty plate. Xavier rolls his eyes and fishes out his wallet, placing a few hundreds on the table again. “Boy, if you don’t put that money away—”
Xavier pushes himself out of the booth and wraps an arm around Nettie’s shoulders. “Don’t be a pain in my ass. Take the damn money.”
She sags against him. “You know you don’t have to do this every time you come in here. We’d love you if you were still broke.”
He kisses the top of her head. “I know.” He releases Nettie and extends his hand to me. “Ready, beautiful?”
Other than the roaring engine of the bike, the ride back to Aunt Dee’s is quiet. It’s taking every inch of my self-control to bottle up all my questions about his past. I want to know about him so badly it physically hurts.
Xavier parks his bike next to the curb and kills the engine. After I remove my arms from around his waist, I hop off and hand him his helmet.
He swings his leg over the bike, and I raise my eyebrows. The expression on my face must give away my surprise because he chuckles as he says, “Relax, I’m just walking you to the door. Lots of creeps around at this time of night.”
“Bodyguard mode?”
Another chuckle has his eyes crinkling at the corners as he shrugs. “Can you blame me for wanting to protect that smokin’ little body of yours?”
His words make me blush and run my fingers through my hair, desperate to draw attention away from my reddening cheeks. It’s crazy how simple flirty phrases from him can cause my heart to flutter.
He takes my hand and pulls me toward the front door. “What time is your shift tomorrow?”
“Not until four.”
He chews on his bottom lip as we step onto the landing. “Do you have any plans afterward?”
The smart thing for me to do is cu
t this off now. We both know that this can never be a long-term relationship since he’s leaving soon, but I can’t keep myself away from the torture that I know lies ahead. “I’d like that.”
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.
The 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.”