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I shrug my shoulders but turn my attention to Xan, who is a different person today. I lean into him and whisper, “How are you doing?”
He returns the question with his own shrug.
“What the actual fuck? Okay, someone better begin spilling the tea before I lose my shit.”
“Well, I guess I can do this now then.” Xan moves my chin to his line of sight, placing a chaste kiss on my lips.
“Holy fuck. Okay, I’m not kidding. Tell me what’s going on before I lose my mind,” she orders again.
I take one look at Xan, then back to Jen. “Okay, so this is what happened.” As I tell her everything, leaving out a few details I figured I’d spare, she watches intently as Xan and I categorize the beginning of our story because the rest is still being written.
* * *
It’s odd.I’ve been in Minneapolis for three days, and the entire time Xan and I stayed with Ma. I think it gives him a sense of home and maternal love, and believe me, my mother isn’t in short supply of it.
“We could stay at your place tonight if you’d like, Xan. I assume you’re more comfortable there.” We’re sitting on the edge of the porch, our legs dangling over the side. If I remember right, it’s the same place I sat when Xan and Liz pulled up the day my dad died. It’s weird how we’ve come full circle. Truth be told, I’d never given any thought to this, but it’s comforting, just not for Xan but for me, too.
“Nah, I love it here. As a matter of fact, whenever we’re in town, I’d like to stay here.”
This catches me by surprise but I won’t argue with him. “Will you give up your apartment then?”
“Nah, I’ll be here a couple times a month, and I know you won’t be able to come with me every trip.”
“Ma would love you to stay here, just so you know.” He’s quiet and has been since the news of his parents’ murders. The information hasn’t been reported to the media yet, as the detective is still trying to rule out suspects. Nicolas being at the very top.
“I’ll give it some thought.” It’s peaceful between us, and I remember in all the issues of the past couple of days, I’d forgotten the best news.
“Guess what? I spoke with Mama Santori and they have another apartment in the building. I’d forgotten about it because one of her sons was living there. He moved back to Italy. It’s double the size of my apartment, has three bedrooms—though one is the size of a closet—two bathrooms, and a larger living room. She’ll transfer the lease. It’s double what I pay now, but with us splitting the rent, I felt it was doable. We can look at other options, too. I know it was selfish for me to ask you to make such a sacrifice, after all, you’re used to places that are more modern, have better amenities, and better views. But if we move, it means I’ll have to clean up your Picasso.”
He throws back his head, letting out a large clatter of laughter. “Oh, fuck. That’s right.” His hand quickly finds my face, bringing it to his, the amusement in his voice changing. I’m now in the presence of the serious Xander Lynol. “Clark, baby, my home is with you, and all that other shit doesn’t matter. And if we’re talking amenities, living above the best pizzeria and butcher shop, that’s enough for me. Besides, the best part is starting my life with you.”
“So, you want to take the third-floor apartment?”
“I love the idea, and I love you for finding something that suits us both. Truth be told, I was a little bit nervous where I’d hang all my suits.”
He does have a fuckton of them. It was one of the first things I noticed in his closet in the city.
“I don’t know if I told you this, Xander Lynol, but wherever you go, I go.” It’s yet another promise to him I’ll never break. As we kiss with the farm fields as our backdrop, I understand the feelings I always had for him. Was it hate? I don’t know because am I capable of hating a man who I now love so fucking much?
32
XANDER
The week has all led up to this moment, the celebration of my parents’ lives. Like the eulogy, I’ve pushed past giving the spotlight to my father. Fortunately, the city of Minneapolis gave me highlights of the many things he’d done for the city, and I have inserted them into my notes.
Clark will be by my side. After coming out to the partners of the firm and Jennifer Laney, nothing stood in his way. And as we arrive in the limo that had been sent for us, he holds my hand. “The press will be brutal. You’ll get questions and you can answer if you want to, but I’ll simply introduce you as my boyfriend and then we’ll be on our way. They’ll dig and find out fairly soon before the night is over about our history. Get ready to adopt thick skin, Farmer.”
Clark captures my mouth with his. “I have thick skin, you idiot, guess who taught me I needed it.” Fuck, I love this man.
In ten seconds, the door opens and I step out, extending my hand into the limo for Clark. He has his hair slung back into a sexy low ponytail and before I can tug Clark from the car, the cameras start, and shit, are they blinding.
“Xander, tell us, is this your boyfriend?”
I walk past the two lines on either side of us, trying to get close to the entrance of the building before introducing Clark. Everyone is yelling and directing questions at both of us. I find the reporter who has been kind to me in the past, and give her a chance to ask her questions.
“Mr. Lynol, would you like to introduce us to your date for the evening?”
I turn toward her, holding Clark’s hand. “Yes, Hillary, this is Clarkston Farmer. He is more than my date for the evening. He’s my partner.” Not just my boyfriend but it comes out so naturally. He’s my partner because we’re equal in every way.
