Chapter 2 Xavier
My boss at Albright Construction glares down at me as I try to get caught up on my work. I can feel the weight of his stare. I wouldn’t have taken the project manager position here if I had known I would become a gofer for the biggest asshole in the state.
“You need to go back to the cleaners. You forgot my shirts. I told you to pick up all of it,” he growled at me. “Then, when you get back, you need to fix the clusterfuck on my schedule. I told you not to schedule anything on Friday.”
“First, I picked up everything the cleaners had ready. The lady said she told you it wasn’t all done yet.
So even if I go back, I can’t get them. Second, you never said anything about Friday to me, so when Dennis asked to meet with you, it was the only time you didn’t have blocked off.
” I keep my eyes on the paperwork so I don’t look like I’m challenging him.
I still have my regular duties, but James also expects me to manage his schedule, pick up his dry cleaning, and grab his lunch.
We’re behind on one of the larger contracts and need to adjust the tradesmen’s schedule.
Not doing it last week is already causing problems.
I’ve put in three sixteen-hour days. I’ve missed meals or eaten at my desk, and I’ve averaged only four hours of sleep a night.
Right now, I am running on caffeine and determination.
It’s only lunchtime, and I’m ready to go home.
I’ve swallowed my pride to keep this job.
It chokes me every time I think about what my one-time bright career has become.
“Xavier!” James calls my name loud enough for everyone in the office to hear.
My stomach drops as I brace for whatever tirade he’s about to go on now.
I just returned from grabbing his lunch.
So it was probably because the order is screwed up.
It’s always something I’ve done wrong. Has been since James saw me out with my friends and found out that I’m gay.
“You’re fired. Grab your personal shit and leave the premises.” He doesn’t even have the decency to stop eating his lunch. For a second, I just stare at him, waiting for the punchline. I want to stab him in the heart with the plastic fork he is using to eat the pasta I paid for.
“What?” I can’t believe this is happening. The pit in my gut grows.
“You heard me. Mr. Albright isn’t happy with your performance.
Especially the fuck up on the Carter project.
” He smirks, like it’s not his fault that I fell behind.
I should stand up for myself, but what good would it do?
I’ve never been good at advocating for myself. I hate the conflict it creates.
I grab what little personal items I have here and walk out.
Every other person in the office is avoiding eye contact with me.
But I can feel their stares when my back is turned.
They know how unfair this is. I don’t expect anyone to stand up for me, not when I can’t do it for myself.
I’m shaking so badly that I almost drop the box several times while getting it to my car.
Throwing my head back against the headrest, I take a deep breath. The car’s silence is deafening. What the fuck am I going to do now? All my savings went to my mother on Wednesday. She again guilted me into giving her what little I had. I have rent due in less than a week.
I text Jesse; she’s always been there for me. She’s been my rock since we met freshman year of college.
Me: Just got fired.
BFF Jess: It was a shit job with a shit boss. Sounds like a reason to go out.
Me: Can’t afford it
BFF Jess: I got you, boo! I’ll be at your place at nine.
BFF Jess: Dress to impress.
I snort at the last text. It wouldn’t matter what I wore; I wouldn’t ever be considered impressive. At five eight and less than a hundred and fifty pounds, I’m not exactly what guys look for. I do not possess the ability to flirt. Every relationship has ended with me pulling the short straw.
As I get ready for the night out, I think about the last seven years of my life.
Looking around my small studio apartment.
This is not what seventeen-year-old me would have pictured for myself.
Now, since the accident, I’m reminded constantly, especially by my mother, that this is what I deserve.
It’s my fault that our world was destroyed.
I wish that I had someone to share my burdens with.
Someone who would help me make decisions with my best interests at heart.
If the past has shown me anything, it’s that I don’t have the right to want.
Club Perfection looks expensive. I look down at my clothes, instantly feeling underdressed. If it weren’t for Jess’s connection to one of the bouncers, I wouldn’t have made it past the door.
“I don’t think this is a good idea, Jess,” I say as we enter the club.
I glance up at the balcony and see four gorgeous men standing close to the railing.
I look away quickly, not wanting to be seen staring.
They’re all large men, and most do not take kindly to being stared at by a gay guy.
Even if they were receptive to it, I would never belong there.
“Sure, it is. It’s exactly what you need after everything.” I eye my best friend warily. “Come on, let’s down shots at the bar and then hit the dance floor.” She grips my wrist and pulls me along behind her. She orders four vodka shots.
“Good thing I didn’t eat before I got here. No way was I paying that much for an actual drink.”
I eye the people crowding the bar around us. Everyone’s demeanor screams, “Look at me, I’m worth it.” I don’t fit in here, and I know it.
We step onto the dance floor, and the crowd closes in around me, bodies brushing past on every side.
Music pounds through the speakers, vibrating through my chest. The air is thick with sweat and sweet perfume, and when I breathe it in, the rest of the day loosens its grip — the boss, my mother, all of it fading into the noise.
I start to move without thinking, the rhythm pulling me with it.
For a few minutes, my head goes quiet. It’s just the music moving through me, releasing my stress.
I’m lowering my body and rolling it to the beat when I feel a hand land on my hips.
Just a light caress at first, but then it starts moving toward my crotch.
If I’m going to get a reach around, I at least want to see who the guy is.
I turn, but as soon as I see the guy, I wish I hadn’t.
Plastering on a small, polite smile, I shake my head while holding my hand up.
He doesn’t get the memo. He yanks me hard into his chest. I try to pull away.
His grip is painful on my skin as he squeezes hard enough to bruise my side.
He’s much bigger than me — his arm wraps fully around my waist. His breath stinks of cigarettes and beer.
“Let me go, you asshole!” I yell over the music.
“You have been out here teasing every man in this place, so stop acting like this isn’t what you were looking for.
” He yells into my ear. No, I don’t want this.
This can’t be happening. I am still squirming to get out of his hold.
Shit, he is half-dragging me, half-carrying me toward the bathrooms. Yeah, not the place I want to go with this fucker.
I raise my knee to hit him in the balls, but he’s holding me too close to get any leverage.
“You throwing those love taps at me lets me know that you’re going to like it rough,” he growls so close to my face I feel his breath.
I feel bile rising in my throat. His smell is making my stomach roll.
Maybe if I puke in his face, he will let me go.
I am still trying to fight his hold. He has me in a bear hug.
I yell again, but no one pays attention.
They are too wrapped up in their own world.
I squirm and wiggle as hard as I can. I don’t want to be raped.
Please, God. Time slows as the full reality of what is about to happen hits me.
It’s getting hard for me to take a breath.
We stop so abruptly that I slam into his chest. Is this where he wants me?
A brick wall of a man stands in his way.
Is he here to help me? The jackass immediately turns ashen when the man leans down and speaks in his ear.
I’m free of his hold. I take a couple of deep breaths.
One of the security guards drags him away.
The tension in my body loosens a little.
Then I catch his scent. It’s a clean, amber-rich scent with just a hint of citrus.
The man is initially shadowed, but then the strobe light catches his face.
I am met with the most intense pale-green eyes.
Eyes that live up to the magical folklore about green-eyed people, the one where they are part Fae.
His jet-black hair contrasts with his fair skin.
He’s beautiful. My body is still shaking from the adrenaline rush, but I find my voice.
“Thank you,” I yell, but I am not sure if he hears me.
Pointing back over his shoulder, he starts walking that way, leaving me standing there.
I wish I could have thanked him properly.
He turns and frowns at me. He takes two strides back to me and grips my wrist, pulling me behind him.
When his skin touches mine, an electric tingle spreads through my nerves and heats my body from the inside out.
I should pull away after what just happened. This time I’m willing to follow.