Chapter 20
Still Harper
My eyes were wide when we were ushered to our table in the back corner of the French-Irish restaurant Xander had picked. The whole room was layered in ivory tones from the wall color to the seat covers to the plates sitting on the crisp white linen tablecloths. It was impressive and so damn daunting.
I’d never been in a restaurant like this in my whole life.
At least I fit in, wearing my baby pink silk tulle evening dress. I’d found it for a song at Marshalls and added it to my wardrobe because it was a superstar at preventing wrinkles. And the pleated boned bodice had a built-in bra. I looked sophisticated and feminine and not at all like I was questioning what I was doing here.
The ma?tre d pulled my chair out for me then snapped my napkin into place on my lap. Kinda/sorta encroaching on my personal space. Was this normal? Had I already committed a faux pas? I sent Xander a wide-eyed look of terror. I didn’t know where to look, what to say. I was totally out of my element.
“Enjoy your meal,” the ma?tre d murmured in a heavy French accent before leaving.
I clutched my menu like it was a lifeline. There weren’t even prices! How was I supposed to know what to order if I didn’t know how much it cost?
My heartbeat pounded in my ears.
Was this a panic attack?
My breath left in a wheezing hiss, and I tried to hide behind the sleek menu.
Or maybe it was a heart attack. Was twenty-nine too young for a heart attack?
“Harper?” Xander reached across the table and tipped my menu down. “Are you okay?”
“I just…this is so far outside my comfort zone.” I leaned forward and whispered, “I don’t know what to order. What fork to use. Can’t we just go to that Super Mac’s we drove past? That’s so much more my speed.”
“There’s nothing wrong with stepping out of your comfort zone. Expanding your horizons. Learning about new cultures.”
I thought longingly of the fake McDonalds I’d glimpsed from our car. At least there I’d have an idea of what to order. “I don’t know what any of these things are. Ala carte. Croquette of suckling pig. Fried quail egg, foie gras, pancetta, red pepper mostarda. I don’t even know what most of those things are. And is all that one dish or choices to make on the dish?”
Xander’s hand came down over mine, and he gave me a reassuring squeeze. “How about I order for you?”
“Sure.” If we were staying that was the clear decision to make.
“Okay. So do you like lobster, scallops, breaded and fried pork, or pasta?”
“Pork for sure.”
“Do you have any strong feelings about foie gras?”
“What’s that?”
“That’s a no. Try it. You can always push it to the side if you don’t like it. Fish or meat?”
I wanted to go back to whatever foie gras was, but I let it go and let Xander lead. “Meat.”
“Okay. Veal, lamb, fillet or duck?”
“Since we’re in Ireland, I guess lamb? That’s what they’re famous for, right?”
“Excellent decision making.” Xander smiled at me like I’d accomplished something huge.
I couldn’t help but smile back at him as all the tension drained from my shoulders. “Excellent job drilling the problem down to the basics.” I tipped my head. “And also talking me down.”
“That’s what partners are for.” He gave my hand a squeeze, and I felt my heart skip a beat. But for the best reason this time.
I ducked my head, suddenly bashful. We hadn’t taken a selfie or posted anything on social media since the gift shop, and I didn’t know what that meant. Were we out tonight for just us, or was this a thing to divert attention away from Kelly? And I knew, I knew I should just open my mouth and ask, but honestly, I was afraid of what the answer would be.
I knew what I wanted the answer to be.
But Xander hadn’t been one for relationships since Kelly. I’d watched him hook up with groupies, media personalities, and other celebs over the last year or so, and none of them had stuck for more than one tour stop. So I assumed we were casual but exclusive. Was that a relationship category?
I opened my mouth to ask as much when the waiter swooped in, and Xander gave him our order before they went back and forth over the wine selection. Their conversation went on for so long that my attention wandered, and I started making up stories for the people around us. The elderly couple at that table were retired horse trainers—because of the wife’s large horse-shaped brooch. That, and she sounded like a horse when she laughed. The middle-aged couple three tables away were spies for a foreign government, no doubt sent here to report on the bourgeois.
I was mentally debating which government they worked for when Xander finally turned back to me. “Sorry, that took a minute. You were going to say something before we were interrupted?”
“I…can’t remember. It must not have been important.” No way was I telling what I’d just been thinking about. He probably already thought I was strange. No need to confirm it.
Xander gave me that soft smile of his that always made my heart skip a beat. “I doubt that. I happen to think you’re pretty damn important.”
I smiled back at him. “Well, thank you.”
The moment drew out as we stared into each other’s eyes. It felt like he could see inside me. That he knew what I was thinking.
And then he looked away, breaking the moment.
When he spoke again, my heart skipped a beat for a totally different reason. “There’s something I think we need to talk about.”
I gulped. Of course this had been too good to be true.
Why the hell did he think this was the place to break up with me? Because I wouldn’t make a scene here? I was a fucking professional. I knew what we were—I knew what this could only ever be. I wouldn’t make a scene wherever he did it.
But it felt especially gutting that he couldn’t even pretend through the meal before dropping the hammer. The rest of tonight was going to be so awkward. If we even stayed that long.
“…going on in that head?”
I blinked. “What?”
“I was asking if you could hear me. You had this look on your face.” He shook his head. “What were you thinking?”
“I just…I don’t get why you’d bring me here if you were just going to break this off. I wouldn’t make a scene wherever you did it. You didn’t have to spend all this money.”
“Whoa, hold up. We’re not breaking up. Unless you want to break up.”
“But you said we have to talk.” I spread my hands to underline my point. “Everyone knows what that means.”
“Uh, well, in this case it means I want to talk about something. And it’s not breaking up.”
“Oh. Okay.” I cleared my throat uncomfortably and fidgeted in my seat. I opened my mouth to apologize when the sommelier swooped in with the wine.
I slumped in relief this time. He and Xander went through the song and dance of tasting while I tried to look invisible.
Smiling weakly at whatever the sommelier said in his accented English, I just gave him a shrug. After a little more back and forth with Xander, he poured our glasses then left us with the bottle.
“Right.” Xander cleared his throat. “Where were we?”
I lifted a shoulder. “With you about to tell me something.”
“Oh. That. Right.” Now it was his turn to look uncomfortable. Which was strange. In all the time I’d known Xander, I would’ve said he was the most self-assured man I’d known. So this was weird.
“Fuck, there’s no easy way to lead up to this. I told you there was another place I made a reservation at, and I want to take you after dinner.”
“Okay…that sounds…fun? Why do you look like you signed us up for root canals?”
He laughed huskily. “Because I don’t want you to hate me after. Or during. I’m really worried you’re going to hate me during, and I kinda like how you’re looking at me right now. I don’t want that to change.”
Where the hell was he planning to take me?
“Croquette of suckling pig,” the waiter said as he laid a plate in front of me. “And Castletownbere scallops with wild rice. Enjoy.”
He was gone before I could ask about salt.
I stared down at the plate in front of me and kept my hands in my lap. Instead of diving into my plate, where nothing looked familiar aside from the tiny fried egg, I cornered Xander. “So you were saying?”
“You should dig in.” He pointed a fork at my plate. “Eat before it gets cold.”
“And I think you should tell me where you’re taking me after this.” If he thought he could out stubborn me, he was so wrong.
“Right.” He gently set his fork down and clasped his hands over his plate with his elbows on the table. “There’s no easy way to say this. Every time I come to Dublin, I stop in at my exclusive club and have a few drinks.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad. Why are you looking at me like that?”
“The club is called (K)nave. It’s, uh, inside an 18 th century church that was decommissioned in the sixties.”
“It sounds nice.” I smiled at him as I picked up my fork. “Let’s go.”
“It’s a sex club.”
This time I dropped my fork. It landed with a loud clang, and I just knew everyone in the restaurant was staring at me. At us. Xander’s cheeks definitely had a red hue under his beard, and I was gaping at him like he’d just confessed to murder.
I closed my mouth with an audible click. “Um, that’s…wow. I’ve, uh, never…”
“I know. And we don’t have to go. To be fair, I made the plans before this—” He waved a hand between us. “Became a thing. I did call and tweak the reservation since I don’t need a partner now, but I kept all my other bookings.”
“What do you even book at a—” I dropped my voice and hunched toward him. “Sex club?”
“Well in my case, I have a reservation in the voyeur hall. I like to watch, and I also like to have others watch me. But since, when I booked, I didn’t know who I’d be attending tonight with, I went with the easier voyeur option rather than the exhibitionist.”
He was dropping these terms in our conversation like they were totally normal. And I guess they were—for him. I’d honestly never really thought about it. Aside from that night by the river. Which to be fair, I’d initiated.
Oh my god.
“The guys know?”
Xander shrugged. “Kinda hard to be friends and bandmates for over a decade and keep secrets. They’ve all gone to clubs with me at different times. But not for a while. Definitely not since they got wifed up, so I doubt Shay or Ella know.”
“And Noah?”
He jerked his chin in a quick nod.
I stared down at my plate numbly. I felt so…surprised? Shocked, for sure. And kinda betrayed that no one thought to clue me in until now. That Noah would hook us up and not say anything…
I picked up my fork and cut into a croquette. Dragging it through the egg yolk and some of the salsa looking stuff before tasting it. It was good. Crispy, tangy, salty.
I set my fork down. “Are you into anything else? Whips? Chains? Plugs? Gimp masks?”
Xander choked on his wine. After he got his coughing fit under control, he gave me a wry grin. “Gimp masks? I guess you’re not as innocent as I thought.”
“Hey, I read. And watch stuff. I’ve just never done anything myself. And especially not in public.”
“Not for lack of trying.”
I had to laugh at that. “Touché.”
“But to answer your question, no, I’m not into all that paraphernalia. And to be honest, I’m more into exhibitionism than voyeurism, but it’s easier to start out with the latter with a new partner. And watching is still hella hot.”
I nodded slowly. “That makes sense.”
I picked up my fork again and dug into my appetizer. I wasn’t sure which part was the foie gras, but I liked it all. In a few minutes, I’d cleaned my plate and leaned back in my chair with a sigh.
“Really? You’re not going to say anything?”
“It was good. I even ate the foie gras—whatever that was.”
“It was the buttery thing on top of the croquette that wasn’t the egg.”
“Oh. It was good.”
“It’s duck liver.”
“Oh.” I tipped my head as I considered this news. “It was still good.”
“Really?” he asked, incredulously. “That’s all you’ve got to say?”
I raised my eyebrows at him. “You’ve kept something huge from me. Excuse me for needing a minute to process it.”
Xander huffed, but he sat back in his chair and bent over his plate, cutting into his scallops with measured attention. He cut one into four equal pieces before loading up a bite for himself. After a few more minutes of strained silence, he put his fork down with a sigh.
“It’s just…it’s hard to put everything out there. And this had been a huge stumbling block with Kelly. You know, in addition to her rudeness and attention hogging tendencies.” He shook his head then leaned forward, looking deeply into my eyes. Into my soul. “I really care what you think about me. I like you Harper. I like this thing that’s happening between us. But I also know that we can’t have anything real without me sharing this part of myself with you.”
My eyes filled with tears. For Xander to lay himself bare in front of me was so real. And vulnerable. And just everything.
And of course, the waiter popped up again. “How are you enjoying your—”
“Walk away,” I bit out.
“Pardon me?”
I turned to face the pompous waiter and glared at him. “We’re having a moment. Walk . Away .”
He muttered something under his breath and left in a huff of irritated French attitude.
Turning back to Xander, I wrinkled my nose. “Do you think he’ll spit in my lamb?”
“Without a doubt.” He grinned. “But it was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”
I grinned back at him. “That’s only because you haven’t seen me at (K)nave.”