AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He pauses, completely deadpan as his eyes meet mine. I can hear the muted sounds of my dads machine-gun questioning while Xander nods calmly, only answering with short answers, little sounds of agreement, and loads of calming encouragement.
Like a college professor would, talking to any student’s parent.
I can only hear Xander’s replies but it sounds like he has my dad eating out of the palm of his huge hand already.
“…Yes I couldn’t agree more, Detective. Oh, alright, Michael, and please, call me Xander…”
I feel my jaw slackening from clenched teeth set on edge to a perfect ‘O’ shape. Utterly speechless as I watch and listen while Xander not only fills my dad in on what’s happened but just how ‘in hand’ everything is.
“…Of course, we‘ve only just had Mrs. Patterson on the phone… Yes, she’s well aware…and you’re more than welcome to visit us anytime,” he laughs, even making a little snorting sound. “But I imagine a detective would have more to do than… Absolutely, I couldn’t agree more…”
This goes on and on, and I almost scream when Xander actually wanders off with the phone, engrossed in the conversation, which he magically turns to my dad’s one true love. Fishing.
He finally puts me out of my misery when he comes back, facing me again as he watches my eyes gravitate to his resting state pant bulge.
“You know the funny thing, Michael? I’ve been here for years and despite the most perfect lake right in front of me, I’ve never had the pole out yet…” he says to my dad almost mournfully.
If I catch his meaning, I’m the lake and well...We both know where the pole’s kept.
I almost laugh out loud, signaling Xander that enough is enough, but I feel my anxiety rise again when he presses it all that little bit further.
“When you do come down, Michael we should both go out on the lake. You can surely teach me a thing or two. It’s been so long since I’ve fished.”
He expertly wraps up the conversation with my dad, none of which was a lie, but at the same time was all completely made up before passing the phone back over to me.
“Why didn’t you just you had the Professor helping out, honey?” My dad gushes.
“You really had me worried for a second there, but it sounds like you’re in expert hands,” he adds, suddenly wanting to talk up Professor Sexton’s heroics more than worry about him being alone with his only daughter.
And that’s when it hits me.
Xander isn’t just incredible to me in my eyes. I’m not just some star-struck teen under his spell. No.
Xander’s a truly unique, one-of-a-kind human being. My own dad tells me so before hanging up, promising he won’t come down just yet and only orders me to keep him posted on how things work out.
It’s his last compliment of Xander though that has me thinking as I hit ‘end call’.
The incredible physical build and energy of the man. A house filled with books, charts, and equipment, all studying essentially unknown things about the stars and space. The universe. Other planets.
I want to think more on it, to ask Xander directly about it, but his own look of satisfaction as he hands me my coffee is enough to make me forget, like amnesia I’m happy to have in place of another truth.
“See?” he says, still standing over me smiling. “We’ll get everything sorted out, and there’s no need to tell tall stories about any of it to your dad.
“What about Mrs. Patterson?” I retort, knowing her penchant for gossiping, even about what’s happening in her own life.
If she calls dad again before they get back…
I shudder, vowing to cross that bridge if and when we come to it.
“Well?” Xander asks, beaming now, looking happy to see me a little happier.
“I could just—” I almost say, but stop myself.
Knowing he can probably read my mind anyway.
I could just kiss you, Professor Xander Sexton.
Chapter Six
Xander
So not only is her dad more protective of his daughter than I thought, but he’s also a detective.
As I point out to Gillian, we haven’t lied to him. Just omitted certain truths, like the part where we didn’t tell Mrs. Patterson all about her missing dog and run-down house.
Oh, and the part about how I plan to take his only daughter to the medical center instead of giving her a good dicking that she sorely needs.
“We really should get that ankle checked out,” I observe, trying to steer my own mind away from what I really want.
“It’s a lot better,” Gillian chimes, animating every part of her face and body to prove her point.
Every part except her ankle, which is still lifeless on the plumped-up pillow.
“Show me,” I demand, inviting her to get up and walk around.
I really hope it is better, it hurts to see her in pain.
