Chapter 18
Eighteen
JADE
Present
This asshole definitely knows what he’s doing.
His back is to me as he flips the pancakes, so I can admire his chiseled physique without him knowing.
He always had the height, but with age and taking better care of himself, his shoulders have grown broader with muscle.
I’m not sure which side of him is the nicest to look at.
He turns, tucking his damp, golden locks behind his ears. His hair is the longest it’s been since I’ve been back in his life. There have been times where I’ve found myself fighting back the urge to run my fingers through it just to see if it’s as soft as it looks.
But innocent touches lead to opening doors that I haven’t been ready to open yet. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. All I have to do is think about the moment I walked into his bedroom looking for him to find it nearly empty aside from his furniture and the way my heart fractured.
Over the years I’ve dated plenty of people, mostly men but a few women.
Getting to know them was usually fun, but as soon as they pushed for more, I ended things.
Opening myself up to the hurt that comes with falling in love is just not something I’m interested in doing again. Love doesn’t last for some people.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Xander slides a plate in front of me.
“Just zoning out,” I lie.
“Uh huh.” The disbelieving look he sends me says everything he doesn’t.
After he plates his food, he comes around the island and sits beside me. He turns his body toward me and watches as I take my first bite. The tart sweetness of the blueberries explodes on my tongue. I can’t help the little delighted moan I make as I chew the bite.
His gaze heats as his eyes lock on my mouth. I’d give anything to be able to read his mind right now. To know the real reason he asked me to come over. I know it wasn’t just to make me a late night meal and chat like he didn’t decimate my heart when it was still young and tender.
“Stop looking at me like that,” I say after I swallow my food.
“Can’t help it. I haven’t heard you moan like that in years,” he says with a little rasp.
Heat builds on the skin of my chest, moving up my throat at the heat in his voice.
My brain and heart are on the same side here, but my body is forever a little slut for him.
I look down at my plate and bring a piece of perfectly crispy bacon to my lips.
I hate that he remembers how I like it, just shy of burnt.
“Why am I here, Xander?”
“Just to hang out. I miss you.”
“You’ve seen me every day for months.”
“It’s not the same.”
“So you brought me here just for the pleasure of my company? No ulterior motive?”
“We could have the talk that’s about fifteen years late, too, if you want.”
My body seizes, and I turn back to my plate. At some point he deserves to know what happened to me, what I did after he fucked off across the country. But right now isn’t the time. I’m not ready.
I see him nod his head out of the corner of my eye. “Thought so.” He sets his fork down and reaches over to set his hand on my knee. “But when you’re ready, I’m here. I’ll be waiting.”
When I don’t say anything, he pulls his hand back. He manages to steer the conversation away from anything heavy as we finish our meal. My body relaxes as he settles in to tell me about a harbor seal that likes to hang out in the morning on the sand behind his house.
“Do you want to go for a walk?” he asks as we stand side by side at the sink rinsing dishes off.
I glance at the clock. It’s nearly two in the morning, I should probably go home.
But when I look out the windows and see the moon illuminating the water, I know I can’t say no.
My home in Malibu has peeks of the water through trees, but I’ve always craved the water.
The biggest goal I find myself working toward is finding my own little house right on the beach.
Somewhere I can open the windows and hear the waves.
“I would, but I’m not dressed for it.”
“Come with me,” he says as he dries his hands.
Trepidation fills me as he leads me back into what I assume is his bedroom. He walks to his dresser and roots around looking for something. I do a double take when he pulls out a pair of pink sweats I haven’t seen in years.
“These are yours.” He holds them out to me.
“Why do you have these?”
“You must have left them in my room when we were kids. I found them when I was unpacking my stuff in New York.”
“And you just kept them?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” I take them from his hands.
“So you’d have something to wear when I finally got you out on the beach with me again obviously.” He pulls two hoodies out. One is concert merch with a photo of him playing screen printed on it. The one he keeps is plain.
“Maybe I want the plain one,” I say.
“I’m not wearing a shirt with my face on it.”
“Why do you have it, then?”
“Jade.” He tilts his head and looks down at me. “The same reason I kept those.” He points at the folded pants in my hand.
“To see your face on the women you bring home?”
“There’s only one woman I want to see wearing my face.” He smirks. “And I want it known that there’s a really dirty joke I could make right now, but I’m holding myself back.”
I roll my eyes and grab the sweatshirt from him. “Where can I change?”
He points over my shoulder. “Bathroom is over there. I’ll wait in the living room.”
I’m genuinely baffled by everything that’s happened tonight. If he’s felt like this for so long, why hasn’t he pushed for more? What’s different now?
I frown in the mirror as I notice his clothes just left right in the middle of the floor.
Some things never change. After pulling the sweatpants on, I bend down to put his clothes in the hamper that’s literally a foot away.
But then I straighten because he’s a grown man and can put his own dirty laundry away.
His back is to me as I come back out into the living room. He catches me approaching in the reflection from the glass and turns. Heat fills his eyes as he looks me up and down.
“They still fit.”
“Kind of. They’re definitely tighter than they were when I was eighteen.” I run a hand down my leg. “Speaking of being teenagers, I see you’re still a slob leaving your clothes wherever they fall.”
His answering grin is as annoying as it is sexy.
No.
Not sexy, just annoying. Aggravating. Irritating. Exasperating.
But regardless of how many synonyms my brain throws out, I can’t stop my own lips from twitching in response.
“I hate you,” I say with no heat as I walk past him through the door he holds open for me.
“Keep telling yourself that.”
There’s a path of stone steps along the side of his house leading down to the beach. I wait at the bottom for him to choose a direction to walk. He chooses to go in the opposite direction of Stone’s house.
“I don’t walk past Stone and Hazel’s place anymore. I was out one night and caught them fucking against the window.” He does an exaggerated shiver. “I’m still scarred.”
“Pretty sure you and Stone have shared women before.” I can’t keep my vitriol from leaking into my words.
“That was different.” His voice takes on a somber note. “We were always high and drunk when we’d do that.”
Oh, I’m so aware of that. It’s why in the early years of working for the band, I wouldn’t go into the green room after concerts. I also avoided afterparties with them like the plague.
“I’ve noticed you’re only smoking weed now.” I look at him from the corner of my eyes. “Is it just because of wanting to help Stone with his sobriety?”
“Partly. It’s time I stopped partying so hard, though. But I’m worried about Tobias.”
“Why?” I stop and let my toes dig into the sand. I’ve had my own concerns, too, but this is the first I’m hearing anyone else verbalize theirs.
“I found a needle in his room a couple weeks ago.” He runs a hand through his hair. “When I asked him about it, he said I was overreacting and projecting onto him. Doing a line of coke here or there is one thing, injecting heroin is another.”
“Do you know that’s what it was for?”
“No. He kicked me out. Told me to mind my own fucking business.” Tension pinches the corners of his eyes. “We almost lost Stone. I can’t go through that again.”
“I’ll keep a closer eye on him. He found me in the hall after Hazel’s last signing and let me have a moment in his room. I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.”
“A moment?” He reaches up and tucks a wayward strand of my hair behind my ear. “After you ran out of Stone’s suite like your ass was on fire?”
I slap his hand away and scowl. “I didn’t run anywhere.”
A sad smile lifts his lips, but he doesn’t push me further. It’s a relief.
We keep walking, letting our conversation drift away. I’m not sure how far we’ve gone when he stops to look over the water. The moon shines her soft, silvery light around us. The waves lap gently at our feet.
A small part of my chest loosens. There’s something about being with him under a full moon on the beach that feels so right it nearly aches. I’m sure it’s just the familiarity of the moments we’ve shared like this previously.
I sneak a glance in his direction only to find him looking down at me.
He’s not wearing a mask of indifference.
The emotion and vulnerability in his eyes nearly take me out at the knees.
I freeze as he lifts a hand to my cheek.
My brain is screaming for me to run, but my heart has abandoned logic, she’s now fully on board with the rest of my body.
He doesn’t bend to bring his mouth to mine though. Instead, his fingers sink into my hair while his thumb strokes my cheek. “I still love you like this.”
It’d be so easy to give in, to let this moment carry us back on a wave of nostalgia.
The combination of Xander and the ocean at night have always felt like home to me.
I could sink into his embrace, let him make me forget the pain from all those years ago.
Just as I’m about to let go and give in, a seagull lets out a loud squawk as it dives down onto the beach.
I feel his hand flex and hesitate before he drops it from my face. Saved by the seagull, I guess. He takes a step back, and the cool, night air rushes in around me, instantly erasing the warmth from his body. I’m not delusional enough to admit to myself that I miss the loss of it.
“We should probably go back before the tide comes in.”
The walk back is silent. Not the easy silence we used to be able to slip into but a heavy one, full of words unspoken. By the time we’re back in his house, exhaustion overtakes me, and I yawn.
“I need to use the bathroom, and then I’ll drive you home,” he says before disappearing into his room.
“Okay.” I sit down on his couch to wait, and before I know it, my eyes are heavy and drifting shut. The overstuffed cushions are too comfortable to fight off sleep.