Chapter 17
Seventeen
XANDER
Present
The floor shakes as the opening band kills their last set here in Los Angeles.
They’re going to be huge by this time next year, I just know it.
As long as they don’t burn their success down with the crash and burn of the two fronts’ relationship.
Darren extended them an offer to open for us as a way to pull heat off our band.
Evil fucking genius that he is, it worked perfectly. No one has heard about the rumored baby. More importantly, everyone is leaving Hazel and Stone alone. Instead, the media is focused on rumors of cheating in a band that earned eight Grammy nominations on their debut album.
“Ready?” Tobias comes to stand beside me in front of the screen showing their performance. He bounces on the balls of his feet, incapable of standing still for more than thirty seconds.
“Always,” I turn toward him, noting the dark circles around his eyes. “You good?”
“Yeah.”
I narrow my eyes at him because the answer wasn’t convincing enough.
He rolls his eyes at me. “I’m just having trouble sleeping. It always happens when I’m home.”
“Have you talked to anyone in your family?” I ask softly.
“No.” His response is firm and clearly conveys he’s uninterested in speaking about it anymore.
“You know you’re always welcome to crash at my place.”
“I know. Thank you. What I really need is pussy.”
“Fresh out of that,” I say with a huffed laugh.
“No shit. It’s like you’re planning on joining the seminary or something.”
My eyes flick over to the table where Jade is sitting shoulder to shoulder with Hazel, handing her books to sign assembly line style. Darren is leaning over them with his face severe as he talks about something I can’t hear. Jade waves him off.
She hasn’t spoken to me since our conversation a few days ago.
It’s killing me to know I laid it all on the line for her and she’s seemingly unfazed.
Meanwhile, I couldn’t be more bothered. It’s not like the way things ended between us was completely my fault.
She couldn’t wait to block me as soon as our parents split up.
I’ve never demanded the answers that I think I deserve. Those few days moving from LA to New York were chaotic. I had every intention of calling her once everything settled down.
The longer I think about it, the more my irritation grows.
I let it fuel me while I’m on stage. Every note that I hit feels sharper.
My background vocals are fucking on fire.
I can see it in the way Stone catches my eye and loses himself to the performance.
The best part is that there are a ton of reporters in the audience.
Publications from Rolling Stone to small, LA indie newspapers are covering the tour.
The more good stories flooding the news cycle, the better.
By the time we make it through Texas and Florida to get to the last show in Atlanta, hopefully nothing will have leaked about the woman claiming I’m her baby’s father.
Not just for me, but also for her. The internet is terrible, especially when such a bold claim is proven false.
Which it will be, I have no doubt.
As soon as the lights onstage go off and we’re done, I make my way back to find Jade. I’ve had enough of the waiting. I want to know where she stands. What she thinks. Because I can’t live like this anymore.
I stalk down the hall to where I saw her last. She’s not in there. A few crew members point me in the direction of a small office they saw her go into halfway through our set. She startles as I push the door open, nearly dropping the tablet she was working on.
“The fuck, Xander?” She shoots to her feet, her hand over her heart. “Was storming in here necessary?”
I lift the hem of my shirt to wipe the sweat off my face before saying anything. Adrenaline still pumps through my veins from our best performance of the tour. Her eyes are locked on my abs when I pull the cotton away from my face.
Instead of dropping the hem like I was planning, I pull the whole shirt off. Maybe my abs will soften her up. Or maybe they won’t.
She sighs and drops back into the chair. “What do you need?”
“You.”
She sets her tablet back down and presses her hands to her eyes. “I need you to be so for real right now, Xander. What exactly do you need?”
“Come home with me tonight. I know you rode in with Hazel and Stone.”
She drops her hands and swivels in the chair to face me head on. “For what? I’m not fucking you.”
“I know that. Just have dinner with me. Let’s talk everything out and put it behind us.” At least I hope we can put it behind us. I drop down to my knees in front of her and cover her hands with my own. “Please.”
My face lights up the second I see the first crack in her resolve.
“Fine.” She pulls her hands from mine and turns to start gathering all her electronics. “But you better make me something really fucking good.”
The ride home was silent aside from the radio. I’m sure Hans and David, my driver, were relieved when they dropped us off at my house. I don’t blame them; Jade’s vibes could give a person frostbite.
I unlock the door and disarm the security alarm while Jade walks in behind me.
She’s never been inside my beach house, so her eyes scan everything, taking it all in.
I slip my fingers into the collar of her peacoat and pull it off her shoulders to hang it up.
Her eyes are locked on the view out of the floor-to-ceiling windows at the back of my house, so she doesn’t put up a fight.
She sets her purse on the console table and walks into the living room. When she gets her fill of the view, she turns to look at the rest of the open space. I can’t tell what she thinks of what she’s seeing of my house because her expression hasn’t changed at all.
I hate the walls she’s erected around herself. At one point I could read every thought and emotion she had without ever exchanging words. Now I feel like I’m standing at the base of a fortress.
“Your home is beautiful,” she says stiffly.
One corner of my mouth tips up. “Thank you.”
She’d be pissed if she knew how cute I find her to be when she’s uncomfortable.
“You’re welcome.” She walks to the far side of the island and pulls out a stool.
I open the refrigerator to see what our options are. I read them all off for her, but she shakes her head to everything. “How about pancakes, then?”
Her eyes light up, just like I knew they would. She loves breakfast food, always has. In fact, she’d probably eat breakfast for every meal if she could. “Blueberries?”
“Of course. I even have blueberry syrup and bacon.”
“Turkey bacon?”
I press my lips together and tilt my head in response to that. She knows how I feel about turkey bacon. I don’t care if it’s healthier, it doesn’t taste the same.
She holds her hands up in surrender. “Of course not. I’m okay with real bacon. You can cover my hospital bills when I end up in an ICU for cardiac arrest.”
“Two pieces of bacon aren’t going to give you a heart attack.”
“Here’s hoping.”
Her high heels drop to the floor while she settles onto the stool to watch me work. I preheat the oven for the bacon and pull everything out for the pancake batter. “Should I add chocolate chips, too?”
“No, blueberries are fine. I’m not a teenager anymore.”
My lips quirk up again. I’ve seen her down chocolate chip pancakes on the road like a champ. But I keep my mouth closed because I know better than to poke the bear. I’m just lucky she actually came home with me.
“Do you mind if I take a quick shower while the oven heats up?”
“Please do. You reek.”
I slide the iPad that controls everything from lights to the sound system in the house over to her. “You can browse my music collection if you want,” I say as I open the sound system app. “Pick whatever you’re in the mood for.”
I leave her at the island and walk down the hall to my bedroom.
Making quick work of stripping out of my sweaty performance clothes, I leave them all in a pile on my bathroom floor to pick up later.
I don’t want to leave her alone for too long in case she bolts.
The shower barely has time to heat up before I’m inside scrubbing myself down and washing my hair.
After I’ve dressed in a pair of gray sweatpants that sit low on my hips and towel dried my hair, I walk out to the most beautiful sight.
Jade has one leg tucked under herself while the one hanging taps along to the heavy synth beats of the Taylor Swift album she chose to listen to.
Her lips move along with every lyric though she never sings out loud.
Her skirt has ridden up her thigh, showcasing her long, creamy thigh.
She hasn’t noticed me yet, so I take my fill of looking at her.
She’s got her phone open, no doubt working on something for one of us.
Perhaps editing some photos to post for the LA gratitude carousel.
I want to freeze this moment. Years of working with her, being in her presence, while not being given the gift of her quiet proximity like this has been torture.
She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and frowns at something on her screen. My fingers ache to smooth the furrow of her brow, to once again feel the softness of her skin beneath me. Her spine straightens, and she bends one way, then the other to stretch.
She does a double take when she catches a glimpse of me out of the corner of her eye. “Have you just been standing there watching me like some kind of creep?”
“Yes.”
She snorts and shakes her head at my honesty. I don’t miss the way her eyes travel over my bare chest and dip down to the muscles of my lower abdomen, though. She can pretend to not be attracted to me all she wants, but the flush of pink on her chest will always give away all her secrets.
I grab a bowl and rubber spatula to mix up the batter while the griddle plate warms up on the stove. My favorite song from this album comes on, and I start singing along without thinking about it. When I look up from what I was doing, I find her watching me with softened eyes.
“What?”
“Do you know how many people would give anything to see you shirtless, cooking, and singing along to Taylor Swift like this?”
“Probably quite a few.” I dump blueberries into the batter. “But lucky for me, you’re the only one allowed to experience this.”
“I’m sure plenty of women have sat in this spot.” She rolls her eyes. “Don’t act like I haven’t seen you over the past several years.”
“I’ve never brought anyone to this house,” I say it with nonchalance even though it’s anything but.
There’s something about this home that I’m deeply protective of.
Maybe it’s because I can just be myself in a way that’s more authentic than any of my other properties.
Having the ocean as my backyard definitely has something to do with it.
But it’s also the inside of the home, I didn’t rely on a designer to pick everything like I have in my other homes or condos.
Every piece of furniture was handpicked by me.
Every color of paint and design choice was me.
“Really?” Her brows raise.
“Yep. The only people who have been in here are Dad, Stone, Hazel, Tobias, Darren, and now you.”
“Oh.” The confession of allowing her into my most sacred place hangs heavy between us. “You should probably put a shirt on. It’s dangerous to cook without clothes.”
“Worried about me?” I smirk at her changing the subject so quickly.
“Only in the way that you’re part of the product we’re selling.” Her iciness is back, but it feels thinner, like a few more blows from me could cause the fractures in her walls to crumble. “I swear you guys are allergic to shirts.”
I put a few strips of bacon on a baking sheet and slide them into the oven. “What do you want to drink?”
“Water unless you have Diet Coke.”
I pull out a can from the beverage fridge and slide it over to her after popping the top. What she doesn’t know is that I’ve kept her favorite drinks stocked in my house since the day we hired her. Even when they go unconsumed, I just keep restocking on the chance she’s ever in my space.
“Thank you. I’m surprised you have these if no one aside from Stephen and the guys come over.” She takes a sip. “But then again, Hazel drinks them too.”
I’ll let her think it’s just a coincidence. Considering how hard it was to get her here to begin with, I don’t know what she’d think to know that I’ve been including her in nearly all my personal decisions for years.
The timer to flip the bacon goes off. “I’ll do the bacon. You can start on the pancakes.” Jade slides down from the stool and rounds the island to stand beside me. “The last thing I need is you getting a grease burn while you’re on tour.”
I let her knock me out of the way with her hip, momentarily stunned by the contact she initiated. She always goes out of her way to avoid touching me. When everyone else gets hugs, I’m lucky to get a high five.
Being in the kitchen like this with her takes me back fifteen years to when this was our norm. The way her laughter and affection was always given freely. I hand her a pair of tongs, letting my fingers linger over hers a second longer than necessary.
It’s not enough.
It’ll never be enough.
Every step closer I get to having her back fully in my life only heightens the need I have for her. I know tonight doesn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things, but as my heart speeds toward its greatest desire, I can’t stop the swell of hope in my chest.