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“Xavi?” I said in a voice shaking with need, fear, anticipation, and so much more.
He looked back at me with sad, mournful eyes. “Yeah, babe?”
I took a deep breath. “I also want you.”
Xavier stared at me for a long time. Seconds ticked by. Maybe minutes. Enough time that I wasn’t sure if he understood what I’d just said.
“Xavi?” I asked. “Did you…did you hear me?”
Xavier started then, like he was pulled out of a trance. Then he frowned and stood up. “I need a moment.”
And without waiting for a reply, he left the deck and disappeared into the basement.
I turned back toward the yard.
“What the hell?” I asked the night.
There was no answer, of course.
Well, that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to get one.
I got up and followed Xavier downstairs, where I could already hear the telltale thwacks of his fists smashing a heavy bag.
“Xavi?” I called. “Xavier!”
I landed at the bottom of the stairs and had to squint to see across the dark room, where he was, yes, punching the crap out of a heavy bag that was swinging so hard on its chain it was creaking loudly and threatening to pull out of its frame.
“Xavier!” I called after he landed one last hard punch.
He froze, then exhaled roughly. “Francesca, I asked for space.”
“I know,” I said as I gave him the opposite as I walked closer into the room. “But I don’t understand why. Xavi, we weren’t fighting. I just spilled my guts out there. I told you—I told you—”
I couldn’t bring myself to say it again. Not when he was turning me down. Not when he was already pretending it hadn’t happened.
“Christ.” Xavier shoved a hand over his brow before muttering something under his breath.
I picked up a pillow off his couch and chucked it to the ground, wishing it were something harder. More breakable. “Care to share that with the whole house, Mr. Parker?”
“Isaid, what good is asking for space if no one will fucking give it to you?” he spat between his teeth.
He turned to the back and delivered another loud blow. Anyone could see he was struggling. That his buttons were out, dying to be pushed.
I knew it was my fault. Maybe it was because of hormones or sentimentality, or maybe it was the fact that I’d just realized my entire soul belonged to this man, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. But whatever the reason, now I was the one who could not hold back. This time, I was the one who wouldn’t stop.
“What is your problem?” I demanded as he turned away, shoulders rising and falling like waves in the ocean. “You’re here. I let you stay. I let you live here. I’m basically a doormat, considering how you walk all over me, so what is it, Xavi? What do you want now that I haven’t given you yet?”
“My God, it’syou!” he roared, voice thundering enough to rattle the pictures on the walls when he whirled around to face me again. His face was red, chest heaving, every tendon and muscle standing out on his neck and face.
He really was a beast.
But I didn’t shy. I didn’t run. I stood there, jaw dropped, watching at this animal of a man like he had just spoken Oompa Loompa for all the sense he made.
“What?” was all I could manage in the end.
When he looked up, he was gasping like he’d just sprinted a mile.
“You,” he said again, more sedately now, as if the first version had broken some mysterious seal and now he was acclimated to it. “What I need…is you.”
