Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
After he dropped off May, Xavier called his buddy Griffin to see if he wanted to meet up at Swing!, a driving range/restaurant in the Cove. They had come out and hit balls a few times. Once at the grand opening this past spring and another time over the summer.
Xavier doubted his golf game had improved since those two previous visits, but scoring well was the furthest thing from his mind. He needed to occupy his hands to keep his mind from turning over last night. Golf seemed as good a distraction as any.
He would have called Brady or Ant to discuss what had happened with May, but the more he thought about it, the worse an idea it became. He’d be essentially asking them to keep secrets from their ladies. Xavier didn’t like secrets between couples. For obvious reasons.
Plus, Elliott and Lourdes were two of May’s closest friends, so it wouldn’t be fair to ask them to keep a secret from May. If May chose to tell her friends, that was up to her. He wouldn’t be responsible for a breach if there was one.
The midday sun was high in the sky, no clouds.
Two beer cups sat sweating on an umbrella-covered table.
They were saved from the late summer heat by a slight breeze that ruffled Xavier’s hair and offered some reprieve.
Griffin stood at the tee box, cranked back the driver, and brought it down for a perfect connection with the ball.
Xavier shielded his eyes, nearly losing sight of the white orb against the blue, blue sky. It dropped onto the grass just past a yardage marker that read 300.
“Three-hundred yards-plus? Damn,” Xavier said. “How is it that you’re good at everything? Makes me hate you a little.”
“Not good at everything.” Griffin allowed the driver’s shaft to slide through his palm until the head was resting on his hand. The cocksure tilt of his mouth hinted that he didn’t completely disagree with Xavier’s assessment.
Xavier had met Griffin Rhodes, of all places, at his former job.
Griff was Evergreen Cove’s premier wealth manager, overseeing the investments and accounts of high-paid executives and local celebrities.
That had included Xavier’s boss at Evergreen Cove Defense Fabricators.
Turned out his ex-boss, Robert, had plenty of money to invest—more than Xavier could have imagined at the time.
Griffin, naturally curious, had poked his head into Xavier’s office to ask what he was up to, joking, “Or will you have to kill me if I ask?” Over the course of the two years Xavier worked there, he and Griffin became acquaintances bordering on friends.
Three years ago, Griffin had come into Salty Dog, having no idea Xavier had been laid off or subsequently bought one of the Cove’s beloved bars.
When he learned both of those facts, he’d called his assistant and instructed her to “Dump Robert Sedlack as a client immediately. We’re never working with him again.
” Despite Xavier’s insistence that Griff didn’t have to do that, he’d appreciated the solidarity.
Then the two spent the evening sipping beers and cementing what was shaping up to be a lifelong friendship.
After he crushed another 300-plus yard bomb, Griff offered the driver to Xavier. “Your turn.”
The man was tough to categorize. He wore expensive suits and a Rolex, rode a motorcycle, played the guitar, and was great at golf. He was dark and intense sometimes and at others so loose someone would swear that the serious version of him was proof that he had a twin brother.
“Name one thing you’re not good at,” Xavier said, picking up the conversation from earlier.
“I can’t cook.”
“A useless pastime for a rich guy.”
“Takes one to know one.” Griff lifted his beer cup and took a hearty drink.
Xavier still had a hard time wrapping his head around being “a rich guy.” He thought it might have been because of all he’d done in his life, the development and selling of the app had been the easiest and the most profitable.
Which had challenged the idea of him having to work overtime to make ends meet.
“Can’t keep a woman,” Griffin offered.
“I didn’t realize you were trying to keep a woman.” Xavier took a few practice swings and then teed up a golf ball that had seen better days.
“You shouldn’t have to try to keep one. Turn your shoulders more on the backswing.”
Xavier did as his friend instructed. That felt awkward in his body but damn good when the club connected with the ball. It ricocheted off the 250-yardage sign and rolled a few feet forward.
“Not bad,” Griffin praised.
“What do you mean you shouldn’t have to try? Like it just magically worked out for Brady or Ant?”
“Sure as fuck would take some magic for it to work out for me.” Griffin angled one chair so that it was in the shade and then sat. Xavier joined him. “For you, it’s not magic. It’s timing. Look at you and May. You chose your moment, and it was the right moment. How’d the wedding go, by the way?”
“Would have been better if her ex was a raging asshole, but he wasn’t.”
“That would have been better?” Griffin asked with a laugh. “Did you want him to rage at seeing you with May? Give you an excuse to break his nose?”
“That wasn’t going to happen with his fiancée on his arm.” Xavier took a swig from his own beer cup. “I didn’t like him, even though on the outside he seemed likable. He was polite. Reserved. Annoyingly unruffled.”
“Sounds like a posturing asshole. How’d May do?”
“Handled it like a champ.”
“Not surprised.”
Xavier hadn’t been surprised either. Despite her trepidation about going to the wedding, once they’d locked in their date, she’d committed. “They split up right around the time I bought Salty, so it’s been a few years. But sometimes those situations can linger, you know?”
Griffin emitted a noncommittal grunt.
“We danced, drank, left. I took her to the Bluffs after.”
“The Bluffs,” Griffin said with approval. “Then?”
“Then”—Xavier sat back in his chair—“I invited her to my place.”
“I’m impressed.”
“It was good. Phenomenal, to be honest.” Xavier checked their surroundings and found that the only other people here was a foursome three tables down. He lowered his voice anyway. “I might have fucked it up.”
“Already? This was last night. Unless you left her unsatisfied, how is fucking it up possible?” Griffin’s tone was serious when he asked, “You didn’t leave her unsatisfied, did you?”
“No. Of course not.”
Griff pulled a hand over his brow to show his relief.
“I forgot…to put on something. During.” Admitting that made Xavier feel young and stupid.
More specifically, like his irresponsible and self-absorbed younger brother. About five years ago, Lynx had come to him with a similar issue. At sixteen years old, Lynx had been rightfully freaking out. Xavier wasn’t sixteen; he was old enough to know better.
“She’s on birth control, right?”
“I—don’t think so.” If she were, Xavier guessed she’d have mentioned it instead of being worried about their “accident.”
“You didn’t ask?” Griffin’s eyebrows lifted.
“We were both alarmed after it happened. We didn’t talk about it. Much.”
“Don’t panic.” Griffin held out a hand, his alarmed expression hinting that he was giving himself that same advice. “Very unlikely that one shot did the job. Possible, but unlikely.”
“That’s the same advice I gave Lynx when he thought he’d impregnated his girlfriend in the tenth grade.” Xavier scrubbed his face. “God. I’m a tenth grader.”
“You’re not a tenth grader. You were excited. You’ve been wanting May for years. Some eagerness is to be expected. Anyone could have forgotten their place with her naked in their bedroom.” Griffin shook his head. “Not that I’m picturing her. Respect.”
“Thanks, buddy.”
“She stay over?”
“Yeah. I slept on the couch, we had coffee, and I drove her home. Then I called you.” Xavier scrubbed his palms over his jeans. “Not sure what the fuck to do now.”
“Sure you want advice from the guy who can’t keep a woman?”
“Not really, but you’re all I got. Brady and Ant—”
“Are tangled up with May’s friends. And you know that Lisa and I don’t speak much.”
“Or at all.”
“We’re cordial.” Griffin reconsidered. “I’m cordial, anyway.”
There was water beneath the bridge with those two. Xavier knew they’d had an encounter, but Griff had been quiet about the details. Maybe she was the one he’d left unsatisfied. Otherwise, why wouldn’t he talk about what had happened?
“Okay. Let me put myself in the mindset of someone who cares about more than a one-night stand.” Griffin made a show of placing his fingers to his temples as if channeling a different version of himself.
“Do you foresee yourself marrying this girl? Having babies? Moving her into your lakeside mansion?”
“What?” Xavier shook his head, mainly to stop his brain from weighing the pros and cons. “We’ve been on one date. It’s premature to think about marriage.”
“It’s premature to think about having a child too, but this is where we find ourselves.”
“You’re not helping.”
“Sorry. Give me a second to think.” Griffin’s leg bobbed while he looked out into the distance.
Hopefully he would come up with a line of questioning that had nothing to do with marriage and babies.
“First off, she might not be pregnant. Second, if she is, she might not want to have a baby. Do you?”
“Do I want a baby?” Xavier’s voice cracked, which might have been funny if not for the terror running through his veins at the prospect.
“Let’s assume possibility number one. She’s not pregnant. No way the Universe would give you what you want and then slap you upside the head with future and responsibility before you’re ready.”
Xavier nodded. He could get behind that assumption. He needed to believe that if he expected to walk through life for the next several weeks without having a nervous breakdown.
“What advice did you give Lynx back when he thought his girlfriend was pregnant?”
“I told him to be more careful in the future, and if the worst happened, we’d deal with it together.”
“Brother.” Griffin wrapped his hand around Xavier’s forearm across the table. “Be more careful in the future. If the worst happens, I got you.” He reclaimed his beer. “In the meantime, treat May as if the night went exactly to plan, which, for the most part, sounds like it did.”
“It was a great night,” Xavier admitted.
“There you go. What would your usual MO be after sleeping with a woman?”
“It’s not like it happens that often, but I always made sure it happened at their house.”
“Smart. But then with May, you asked her over.”
“Didn’t think that far ahead.”
“Rookie move, but at least you slept on the couch. Kept a bit of distance.”
It hadn’t been a “move,” more a choice made in the moment. Spooning May seemed intimate, and she had needed some space—he could tell. May was nothing if not independent.
“When will you see her again?”
“I don’t know. She comes into Salty with the girls fairly often.”
“That’s neutral territory.” Griffin nodded his approval. “Ask her when she’s going to be in next. Do your thing. Serve her drinks. Smile, joke. That’s your comfort zone.”
That wasn’t a bad idea. Salty Dog would serve as a great backdrop for easing back into familiar territory.
“I’ll show up too, just let me know when. I’ll distract Lisa. She is a bloodhound, so the more attention I can take from you and May, the better.”
“If she didn’t tell Lisa already.” Not the best-case scenario.
“A possibility,” Griffin unhelpfully agreed.
Part of Xavier argued that it was juvenile to play games like this, but a larger part of him would accept his friend’s support. He might not have been planning marriage and babies with May, but he didn’t want to lose her friendship either.
“What went down between you and Lisa, anyway?”
Keeping with tradition, Griffin shook his head. Then he stood, reclaimed the driver, and walked up to the tee box.
As Xavier watched him drill another ball well past 300 yards, he caught himself hoping May didn’t end up hating him the way Lisa hated Griffin. He could live with awkward. He could live with complicated.
But if she cut him out completely? That was something he didn’t think he could accept.