by Lexi Lawton
“When will you be back?”
“Not until sometime Monday night, possibly Tuesday.”
“Tuesday?” Finn shouted. “Fuck, Xander. You’re telling me you’re missing three, maybe four days’ worth of classes? What the hell am I supposed to tell Brad? He’s expecting you back this weekend.”
“You think I don’t know that?” It had been weighing on his mind since he told Kylie he’d stick around until after she’d met with her grandmother’s lawyer. Still, being here with her, ensuring she made it back to campus safely was more important than jumping through Brad’s hoops.
“Well, what the fuck, man?”
“Kylie needs to meet with her grandmother’s lawyer first thing Friday morning. I can’t leave her here and hope she finds a way back.” He sighed and rested his head on the handrail. “Then I have my mom’s birthday on Saturday, so I have to leave here and drive straight to New York. And it will take a full twenty-four hours to drive back to campus.”
“Wait, you’re taking Kylie home to meet your family?” There was amusement in Finn’s voice.
“It’s either that or I miss my mom’s birthday.”
“Look, I’ll try to buy you as much time as I can with Brad, but no promises. You need to call him yourself, though, and try to do some damage control.”
He cursed under his breath. The very last person he wanted to talk to was Brad, but Finn was right. Xander needed to kiss some serious ass. That was the only way he stood a chance of being able to stay in the frat.
“I’ll give him a call first thing tomorrow.”
“Good. I’ll butter him up a bit before you do.”
“Hey, whatever you do on your time is your business, but buttering up another guy is not a visual image I want.”
“Fuck you.”
“Thanks for the heads-up.”
“Any time, bro.”
“All right, I gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know how I make out with Brad.” Xander ended the call and walked back inside. He cleaned up what was left of their dinner, locked the doors, and shut off all the lights. Then, he headed upstairs.
His conversation with Finn raced through his mind as he changed into a pair of pajama pants. Finn was right. He needed to stop comparing Kylie to Trisha. They were two completely different people. Kylie had been honest about her virginity; she wasn’t trying to hide anything from him.
But claiming Kylie’s virginity was a big deal, an honor and a responsibility, and one he couldn’t take lightly. He needed to know, without a doubt, that she was ready. Not just physically, but emotionally and mentally. He needed to be sure that she was with him because she wanted to be, not because she was sad and vulnerable and looking to forget her pain by doing something drastic. Something she could easily regret later.
He flopped on the bed. There had to be a way to make things right between them. Hell, maybe he needed to tell her the truth about what had been on his mind earlier, that he’d been thinking about their conversation at the rest stop, and he wanted to be with her, in a fully committed relationship. If he did, if he took the initiative to move past whatever they currently were to each other, he’d have to tell her about Trisha. Maybe if she knew everything, she’d understand why he’d been so damn neurotic lately. He sat up. That’s what he’d do. On the drive home, he’d bare his soul to her in a way he’d never done with anyone before.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kylie flopped over onto her back and sighed. Then she kicked the blankets off and stared up at the ceiling. The room was pitch black. The only light came from the digital clock on her bedside table. It read 12:32 a.m. She’d been tossing and turning for the past three hours. Even if she hadn’t slept for five hours earlier, she still wouldn’t have been able to sleep now, not when her mind was racing with everything Xander had said, because it was much easier to focus on that than it was on the fact Nammy Joyce was dead.
All she’d done was touch his stomach and chest, and he bolted away from her so damn fast. He’d said he had a lot on his mind. Was that the truth? Or was he really just not interested in her like she was in him? Or maybe he was disgusted with how she grew up—her modest house, lack of money, and her drunk, belligerent father. Tears burned her throat, and she squeezed her eyes shut so they wouldn’t spill free, but it was useless. The tears escaped and blazed a slow, painful path down the side of her face, reminding her of all she’d lost, of everything she’d never have. She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes as her lips began to tremble.
Wiping her face, she got out of bed and left her room. She stopped in the hallway and glanced toward the room Xander was in. His door was closed, and the lights were off. What was left of her heart broke. Shaking her head, she tiptoed downstairs and into the kitchen. She flicked on the light, then stopped. The table was clean, and the few dirty dishes had been placed in the sink. Xander had cleaned up? A small sob slipped past her lips, and she slapped her hand over her mouth.
Taking a deep breath, she blew it out slowly. All he’d done was clean up. It wasn’t a big deal. She flexed her fingers and took another deep breath before rummaging through the cabinets and drawers. There had to be something in the house that would distract her. After all, eating her feelings was the best way to get rid of them, right? Ice cream. She needed ice cream, even though she knew there wasn’t any. She opened the freezer. There, in a white box, was the top layer of her high school graduation cake, the one thing she hadn’t thrown away when she cleaned out the refrigerator before she left for college. She carefully took it out and peeked through the cellophane circle on the top of the box. It was a small round cake with white icing and multicolored flowers decorating the edges. In the center was written: Do Great Things. Kylie shoved the box back in the freezer, slammed the door shut, and rested her forehead against it as the memory of that night swept over her.
“You’re saving the top of my cake?” Kylie tilted her head and watched as Nammy Joyce put the box in the freezer. “Why?”
“Because it’s a reminder of all you’ve overcome to get where you are.” She turned to face her. “And when you come home from college next summer, we’ll take it out and eat it.”
She laughed. “Aren’t you supposed to do that with a wedding cake? Eat it on your one-year anniversary?”
“Yes, but there’s no rule that says you can’t do it with other things, too.”
Kylie scrunched up her face. “A year-old frozen cake? Won’t it be gross?”
Nammy Joyce’s familiar cackle filled the kitchen, and she shook her head. “Honestly, child, I don’t know about you.” She sat at the table and took Kylie’s hands. “You’re destined for great things, Kylie. You’re a fighter, and there’s nothing in this world that can stop you once you put your mind to something.” She patted her hands, stood, and kissed the top of her head. “I’m incredibly proud of you.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, her throat clogged with emotion.
“Well, it’s been a long day, and this old lady is tired. Good night.”
“Night, Nammy Joyce. Love you,” she called as her grandmother disappeared from view.
Kylie’s breath caught. Twisting around, she slid her back down the fridge and landed on the floor with a thump. She hugged her knees to her chest and cried. Her nerves were raw, exposed, aching, the pain tearing through her, magnifying her sobs. She can’t be gone. She can’t. Her shoulders shook, and her body jerked as she fought to catch a breath.
I can’t do this. She pulled her knees closer, squeezing them so hard her arms went numb as she rocked back and forth. At least that pain made her forget the black hole devouring her heart and soul. She needed to make the pain stop, to be able to forget, to silence her thoughts.
She needed a drink.
Scrambling to her feet, she once again tore through the cabinets and then the pantry. Nothing. Not a drop of alcohol anywhere, not even a bottle of celebratory champagne. Her heart raced, and her hands shook. Just one drink. That’s all she needed to dull the pai
n. Maybe Nammy Joyce had something stashed in her room. Kylie rushed upstairs and searched through all her grandmother’s drawers, which were mostly empty because Nammy Joyce’s stuff had been taken to the nursing home when she’d moved there. She turned her attention to the closet, but the sight of the bare hangers froze her in place. Arms hanging limply by her sides, she stared at the nothingness.
What am I doing? This was how it had started with her father…
He carried her upstairs and into her room, just like he’d done every other night. Easing her down onto the bed, he pulled the covers over her, smoothed the hair back from her face, and placed a kiss to her forehead. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him.
“I miss Mommy,” she cried.
“So do I, baby girl. So do I.” He pulled away, and his eyes were damp. “You go to sleep now, okay? Daddy needs to take care of a few things, but I’ll be back soon. You stay right here.”
She nodded, but all she really wanted was for him to stay with her until she fell asleep. But he got up and left, closing her door. The sound of the latch made her heart jump. She pulled the blankets over her face and cried until her little body couldn’t handle it, and she fell asleep, exhausted.
Hours later, the sound of a table crashing to the floor startled her awake. Eyes wide, heart racing, she jolted upright in bed. “Daddy?”
“Cock-sucking, mother-fucking, dirty sonofabitch…” There was another loud crash and then more cursing.
Slipping out of bed, she snuck down the hallway to her parents’ room. The door was open a crack, and she peeked inside. Her father was ripping all of Mom’s dresses off the hangers, flinging her clothes out of the dresser, and throwing her jewelry boxes against the wall. Each crash made her cringe until she was a shrunken ball in the hallway.
Crash!
He grabbed their framed wedding picture and beat it against the edge of the vanity, shattering it and all of Mom’s makeup and perfume. He attempted to reach for another picture, but he wavered and fell over. Tears streamed down Kylie’s face as fear and horror and sadness warred inside her. What was wrong with Daddy? Why was he acting like that? Legs shaking, she pushed to her feet and ran to the home office at the opposite end of the hall. She clutched the phone and retreated to her room, where she hid in her closet, behind her big box of stuffed animals, and called Nammy Joyce. She would know what to do. She always did.
That was the night she’d lost her father, too.
Kylie’s eyes filled with more tears, and her vision blurred. She sank to her knees and covered her face with her hands. For the first time in her life, she understood why her father was drunk all the time, why he chose to avoid life and all of his responsibilities. It had to be better than the constant, jagged pain of dealing with such a devastating loss.
“Kylie?”
The sound of Xander’s voice made the very last shred of her control snap. “Oh God,” she wailed. “I can’t… She’s gone… I—I…”
In the next instant, his arms were wrapped around her, and she was cradled against his hard, warm chest. “Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered. “I’m here. You’re not alone.”
She curled up in his lap and clung to him as he rocked her.
“I’m here,” he repeated, his voice soothing and compassionate. “I won’t ever let you go, Ky. I promise.”
Promise…that one small word shattered her already broken heart even more. She buried her face against his neck and cried until she ran out of tears. And he sat there, holding her and caressing her back the entire time. His hold never wavered. He never once complained.
“I can’t stay here.” Her throat burned, and each word was a challenge. “I thought I could, but I can’t. I need to get out of this house.”
Gently, Xander took her face into his hands and wiped her cheeks with his thumbs. He stared into her eyes, and she stared back. She couldn’t begin to imagine how awful she must look. But if she really was a hot mess, he didn’t seem to notice or care.
“We’ll go stay in a hotel, then. You said there was one nearby?”
She nodded.
“Okay.” He slid his hands from her face and down to her neck. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”
“Thank you.”
…
An hour later, Kylie stood in a hotel room and looked around. This room was nicer than hers at home. Bigger, too. Her gaze was drawn to the mini-bar in the corner. A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed hard against it.
Xander set her bags on the floor near the couch. “My room is right next door, so if you need anything, just—”
“I don’t want to be alone. Will you stay?” Her voice trembled. “Please?” The moment he left, she would be tempted to empty that mini-bar.
He hesitated as if he were considering saying no. Probably because he was worried she’d try to touch him again, or that she’d try to do more.
She tucked her hands under her armpits to hide the fact they were shaking. “Tonight, when you found me in Nammy Joyce’s room, I was looking for a drink.” She took a breath. “I figured maybe my dad was onto something. Get drunk and stay that way so the pain will stop.” She hung her head as shame heated her face and neck.
Without a word, Xander walked over to the mini-bar and gathered every bottle of liquor in it. Then he proceeded to open them and pour the contents into the sink.
“Xander! What’re you doing? Those are going to be billed to the room.”
“I don’t care.” He shook his head and emptied the last bottle. “I’d much rather pay for it than have you do something you’ll regret.”
Nammy Joyce had done the same thing to try to sober up her father and get him to realize he had a problem. It hadn’t worked. Her shoulders slumped. God, she was such a mess. If her messed-up family didn’t make him want to run for the hills, the way she was acting tonight would.
“I know it hurts.” He put his finger under her chin and tilted her head up. “But drinking to numb the pain won’t make it go away.”
“I know.” She sighed. “It just hurts so much I can’t even breathe. I really don’t want to be alone right now.”
“You’re not.” He smiled softly. “I promised I wasn’t going to let you go, remember?”
That familiar twinkle flashed in his eyes, making her heart race.
“Just give me a minute or two, okay?”
She nodded. Xander went to the bathroom while she kicked off her sandals and climbed into bed. The cool sheets welcomed her tired, weary body, and she sank back against the pillows. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she was teetering on the edge of oblivion when she felt the bed dip and Xander slide in beside her. He reached for her, and she didn’t hesitate. She moved toward him and put her head on his chest at the same moment he put his arm around her shoulders.
“This okay?” he asked.
“This is perfect.” She yawned. She wanted to stay awake and savor this moment, to enjoy every second of lying in bed with him like this. But her eyelids were too heavy, and she succumbed to the peaceful darkness of sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Xander’s phone vibrated, forcing him to fully open his eyes, even though he didn’t want to. After Kylie had fallen asleep last night, he’d put his phone on silent so it wouldn’t wake her. She was still curled up next to him, her body warm and soft against his. Without disturbing her, he reached for his phone and rejected Finn’s call. That’s when he noticed he had seventeen missed calls and just as many text messages, a few of them were from Tanner and Ryder. He also noticed the time—4:39 p.m. Holy shit! Setting his phone back on the nightstand, he rubbed his hand over his face and yawned.
He hadn’t slept at all while at Kylie’s house, and then he’d heard her sobbing. Seeing her on the floor of her grandmother’s room, broken and trembling… He closed his eyes. That was an image he’d never get out of his head, no matter how much time passed. But that was nothing compared to her admitting she wanted to get drunk, and then her voice when she’d
asked him to stay with her.
He dragged his fingertips up and down her arm, smiling when he felt the goose bumps beneath his hand. She groaned and stretched her legs, the motion causing her body to press firmer against his. His limbs tingled, and his cock jerked with the need to roll her over and make love to her. Brushing the hair from her face, he let his hand linger on her cheek for a second before he gave her lips a featherlight kiss. She sighed, and he suppressed a groan.
Easing his arm out from under her, he took his phone and slipped into the bathroom. He’d avoided too many people the past twenty-four hours, and the longer he let things go, the worse they’d be. Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, he dialed Brad’s number.
His stomach was in knots as he waited for Brad to answer. Maybe he should’ve called Finn first to find out what sort of mood Brad was in.
“Hello?” Brad sounded like he was half asleep.
“Brad, it’s me, Xander.”
Brad grunted. “I’m surprised you’re calling. Aren’t you blowing off classes for a funeral or something?”
Xander gritted his teeth. “Yeah, and that’s why I’m calling. There’s a will reading tomorrow morning, and then I have my mom’s birthday on Saturday. I won’t be home until late Monday or early Tuesday, but I’ve been in touch with my professors, and I’m keeping up on my work. And I will be in classes the second I get back on campus.” Even if he had to drag his ass there without a wink of sleep, he’d be there.
“You’re missing classes.” Brad didn’t phrase that as a question, and Xander didn’t dignify it with an answer. “I know I was clear about what would happen if you missed even one class.”
“Yes, you were.” He clenched his teeth. He was stupid for thinking Brad would understand or care. “But I told you I was leaving, and you said it was okay.”
“What did you expect me to do, Xander? Tell you no? You’re free to do whatever you want. You made your choice knowing what the consequences would be.”
“Yeah, I also know what it states in our national charter and our bylaws. You have every right to take a vote to kick me out, just like I have the right to plead my case before the chapter. Before any vote is taken.”