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My face turned approximately the color of a stop sign all over again. “Shut up.”
Xavier glanced at the plant with a cheeky grin that made my insides feel funny. “I gather it went, er, well, eh? Can’t recall you ever knocking down plants with me.”
I sighed, surveying the disaster I’d created. There was soil halfway across the rug. “That was more out of frustration than, um, completion.”
It was truly annoying how quickly his mouth curved into a knowing smirk. “That so? I don’t remember us struggling with that either, you know.”
“You don’t have to look so proud about it.” I stooped down to set the plant aright. The dirt would have to be vacuumed in the morning—I didn’t want to wake Sofia. When I was finished, I flopped back onto the couch, ignoring the moment Xavier joined me. And how warm his knee felt touching mine. Or how smooth the bare skin of his shoulder was in the moonlight.
“Poor, poor Ces. A bit hard up, are we?”
I glowered up at him. “It’s not funny.”
“I beg to differ.”
“It’s not.” I huffed. “Youdid this to me. I’m awash with hormones, practically swimming in a different emotion every freaking hour. For three months, I wanted to puke day and night. Now puppies make me cry and every night the ‘gotta get laid’ light turns on—which, by the way, wasn’t nearly so bad with Sofia. And just like last time, there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it. Vibrators only do so much, you know. I feel like a fifteen-year-old with one thing on my idiotic lizard brain. Do you remember what it was like to be that age?”
Xavier blanched slightly. “If you were like that, you’d be making a damn mess or taking four showers a day to cover it up. Mum used to yell at me for running up the water bill.”
In response, I said nothing. I had been very clean lately.
“Christ,” he said. “That’s no picnic. I made myself chafe. A lot.”
He sounded so abjectly forlorn about it that I couldn’t help but giggle.
“I feel your pain,” I said with a friendly pat on his knee. “Literally.” Then I sighed. He’d given me honesty. I supposed I could give him another sort. “I guess I just can’t pretend on my own anymore. You screwed it all up this year.”
I turned, expecting another lopsided smirk, but instead found Xavier gazing at his hands in deep contemplation.
“Maybe…I could help.” He looked up, blue eyes full of cautious hope.
I cocked my head suspiciously. “What does that mean?”
“I see how you look at me when you think I don’t notice. Out of the corner of your eyes. I know you say it’s over, Ces, but you also said I did this to you.” His glance flickered down, first landing on my slightly swollen belly, then farther to the heat already building between my thighs. “You say you can’t pretend on your own. But what if you pretend with me?”
FIFTEEN
We stared at each through the dark like we were trapped in a beautiful, awe-inspiring lagoon, not sitting on my brother’s old leather couch he’d salvaged off the curb in Sheepshead Bay.
Was Xavier offering what I thought he was offering?
Was that even something I could consider?
Was my baby brain getting in the way of my actual reasoning skills?
Did I even care?
“I…I don’t know,” I said, even as I squirmed in my seat. “We’re not…it wouldn’t change anything.”
Lord, those hands. That mouth. It was one thing to fantasize about complete strangers or characters in a book. It was another entirely when I had the real thing most women only dreamed about right here, offering himself up on a silver platter.
“It wouldn’t be like that,” Xavier said, scooting a bit closer. “I promise.”
“That’s easy for you to say. But how—how do I know it’s not just you trying to…” I couldn’t bring myself to say “get me back.”
It sounded absurd. Xavier wasn’t the type to play games, nor was I the kind of woman to be schemed over. Not like that. But hehadsaid we weren’t over, hadn’t he? And while he wasn’t exactly known for his patience, his success over the last ten years certainly pointed to a certain amount of resilience and grit.
He was used to getting what he wanted, and I had no doubt that sometimes it meant playing dirty.
