Chapter 3
Justine woke up with the hangover from hell. “I hate you, Katie,” she mumbled into her pillow then swore as banging at her front door stopped her from going back to sleep. She mumbled a slew of curses and stomped her way to the front door, only pausing to see the time.
Eight-thirty in the morning. An ungodly hour by anyone’s account.
“What?” she snapped as she opened the door wide, expecting to see Katie.
He stood in shorts and a tee-shirt holding two coffees and a bag that smelled delicious. He also looked as if he’d stepped out of Katie’s Sexy Men with Coffee calendar.
She looked down at her oversized Friends Don’t Let Friends Beer Goggle tee-shirt that had seen better days.
The neck had been stretched so that the shirt hung off a bare shoulder.
It also barely hid her short-short pajama bottoms from view.
Her hair stood on end, though she’d at least wiped off her makeup from the night prior, so she shouldn’t look like a goth racoon staring at male perfection.
He tried to bite back a smile, but she saw it and scowled.
He wiped the smile from his face and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for yesterday. I came over with a peace offering. Too early?”
A waft of coffee and sugar hit her, and she tugged the drink holder from his hands. “Come on in.”
He closed the door behind him and followed her into the tiny kitchen.
Aunt Rosie had an eclectic sense of design, the open kitchen and living room small but furnished tastefully with smaller teak pieces accompanied by light fabrics.
It felt like one of those tiny IKEA rooms but was expensively appointed with high quality pieces.
Minimalist with everything in its place.
As opposed to the opulent bedroom, full of different shades of reds and pinks and clutter.
And mirrors. So many mirrors. It was like living in a bordello.
She nursed her coffee, letting the caffeine do its work as 2C settled in at the small kitchen table across from her. Not 2C—Xavier.
“I like Rosie’s style. Everything’s so neat and organized.”
She snorted and said, “You should see the bedroom.”
He paused with his cup to his mouth and raised a brow.
She flushed. “Not that that was an invitation. I’m not asking you to sleep with me.”
He stared.
“Well, not that we’d be sleeping. I’m talking about sex.” It was like her mouth hadn’t yet connected to her brain, which kept screaming at her to shut up.
He took a sip of his coffee and kept staring.
She rambled. “I’m not saying I don’t want to have sex with you. I mean, I don’t. But it’s not because you’re not handsome enough.”
He had yet to blink.
“Even with the facial hair. Not that facial hair is bad.” It could be quite nice, especially trailing between her thighs. “It’s fine. You’re fine,” she blurted, cheeks blazing.
His lips quirked.
“I just... What’s in the bag?”
His grin managed to take him from sexy-hot to blazingly handsome. “Not a morning person. Noted.”
She groaned and dropped her head to the table. “It’s not even nine o’clock yet.”
“I’ve been up since six-thirty.”
She raised her head to glare at him, annoyed at the smirk that instead of making him annoying, turned him into a charmer.
“How about some donuts to make you smile?”
She perked up at that.
They ate donuts and drank coffee in a surprisingly comfortable silence while she woke up and tried to speak without sounding like a moron.
Before she could say anything, Xavier spoke first. “I’m really sorry for coming over too early. I felt bad about leaving a terrible first impression yesterday and wanted to make it right. I swear, I don’t normally pick fights in the halls or intrude on my neighbors’ privacy.”
“It’s fine, really.” She paused. “Can I ask what that fight was about?”
He blew out a breath. “My ex-girlfriend sent her brother around to—hell, I don’t know. Convince me I was making a mistake?” He ran a hand through his hair. “We broke up over a month ago, and honestly, it should have happened a while before that. She’s a nice person, but we didn’t fit.”
“Sorry to hear that.” She finished her coffee and needed more. “I need more coffee. You?”
“Sure, if you’re offering.”
“You did bring the first cup.” She left the table to fix a pot of the good stuff, grinding beans from a local brewery.
She glanced over her shoulder to say something and saw him staring at her ass.
She flipped her gaze front and felt another blush heating her cheeks.
“Do you think your ex’s brother got the message?
” A tentative glance back at him showed him fixated on one of her aunt’s funny dish towels that hung over the handle of the oven door, so maybe she’d been mistaken about him staring at her butt. She rejoined him at the table.
“Huh? Oh, Dan. Right. I hope so. I’m not into fistfights over women.” He snorted. “I’m not into fights, period. Now my sister, she’s the one you need to worry about.”
“Yeah?”
“Auggie—short for Augusta, and she hates that name—lives for drama. She breaks up with her fifth boyfriend in two months? Drama. Loses a quarter? Drama. Thinks I’m not answering her calls fast enough? Drama.”
Justine snickered. “That’s funny. My sisters are so the opposite.
My oldest sister is the son my father never had.
She’s smart, pretty, and vicious. Basically, his mini-me.
She married his protégée, a financial guru with the personality of burnt toast.” She paused.
“I can’t believe I’m telling you this. I sound like a horrible person. ”
The coffee machine beeped, and Xavier got up to refill their cups, then helped himself to creamer from the fridge. “Sorry, Rosie used to make me serve her when I visited. I haven’t yet broken the habit.” He brought her creamer and a bowl of sweetener packets from the counter.
“Thanks. No worries.”
As Justine fixed her coffee, Xavier continued, “Please don’t apologize for being honest. I love my sister and love being with her, but she’s a drama queen and knows it. So your older sister is a carbon copy of the old man. What about the other sister?”
“She’s the middle child; I’m the youngest. Mallory is the family pleaser.
That sounds really mean, but it’s sadly true.
She’ll do anything to earn my parents’ approval.
It drives me nuts, but there’s not much I can do about it.
I don’t like her fiancé much, but he’s approved by my parents so it’s a done deal.
” Justine sighed. Just thinking about Ted made her ill.
“And you? The youngest, you said?”
“Yeah. I’m the only one who didn’t go into business.
I’m a PR stooge with a graphic design background.
I work at a marketing firm in town.” She didn’t like thinking about work on her off time.
“But it’s the weekend, so let’s not go there.
In any case, my dad still nags me to come work for him.
He’s also constantly trying to fix me up with his employees, which is just embarrassing.
My mom helps him by springing these poor guys on me, when I think I’m going over for some mother-daughter bonding and end up doing coffee with a stranger.
I’ve stopped visiting.” And was more than overdue for a family dinner.
“Whoa. That’s rough. But I think it’s a parent thing. You look...” He paused. “How old are you?”
“How old do I look?” She laughed, which was odd.
Normally around a handsome guy, Justine felt like a bundle of nerves and typically said the wrong thing at the wrong time.
But since she’d already put her foot in her mouth earlier, she felt surprisingly comfortable around Xavier.
He hadn’t been eyeing her breasts or making moves.
Just talking about family, making eye contact, and listening.
It was...nice.
“What’s that look?” he asked.
“Oh, just thinking that this conversation is a lot better than the ones I had last night.” She grimaced. “And for the record, I’m twenty-nine.”
“Ah. Well, I was going to say that when you near thirty, a lot of parents seem hit some kind of switch that has them nagging about marriage and grandkids. I’m thirty-two, and my mom has been all over me about finding the right girl and having children.”
“It’s not just me, then.”
“Nope.” He grimaced. “Last night, while you were having terrible conversations with people, I was watching bad reality TV and making my mom a boyfriend list with my sister. Because when Mom has a boyfriend, she leaves us alone. What can I say? I live a sad life.”
She laughed. “Wow. And I thought my night was bad.”
“What was so bad about it?”
“Katie, my best friend you met last night, keeps trying to set me up with her friends. And I’m just..
. I’m done dating for a while. My last breakup sucked.
And frankly, I don’t have time to date just dealing with the day-to-day in a lousy job and dealing with my stressful family.
Did I mention my middle sister is getting married next month, and I’m one of her bridesmaids? It’s a nightmare.”
Justine paused, suddenly embarrassed about confessing things to a stranger. And in her pajamas, no less! “I’m sorry. I’ve been sitting here in my PJs talking your ear off.”
“What? Oh.” He gave her shirt a brief glance and looked quickly back up at her face. “I hadn’t noticed, to be honest. It’s been so long since I’ve been able to talk to someone and not feel pressured to perform or impress.” He paused. “That sounds horrible. I just meant you’re easy to talk to.”
She gave him a shy smile. “You are too. I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but this is nice. Like, I feel like I’ve made a new friend. One who understand difficult family and the need for quality coffee and donuts.”
He held up his cup. “To new friends.”
“To new friends.” She focused on how good it felt to share coffee with someone without pressure to be anyone but herself.
“And to no more fights on the second floor.”
She laughed. “We’ll keep them to the first and third floors only.”
“Exactly.”
“Now what can you tell me about the other tenants in this building? Because the super stares at me like he hates me, and I’ve been warned not to screw around or the cop in 1A will write me up in a heartbeat.”
“Oh boy. We might need something heavier than caffeine and sugar for that. But I’ll give you the abbreviated version.”
And that’s how Justine spent her Saturday morning, with coffee, donuts, and a smile on her face as she learned the best way to navigate life in the TCA with a new friend.