Phenomenal X

by Michelle A. Valentine

Almost.

  I should have demanded to know where we were going instead of being a lustfully blinded twit, willing to go anywhere with a sexy stranger.

  The light switches to green, and he puts his hand back on the handlebars, sending us forward in a blur once again. I’m not sure how long we ride, but it’s long enough for me to relax and feel somewhat comfortable on the bike, comforted by the continuous purr of the motor. I lay my head on his shoulder and snuggle closer to him, inhaling the spicy scent of his cologne mixed with some sort of soap and something distinctly male. As if it’s even possible, smelling him turns me on even more.

  Before I know it we are just outside the city and pulling into one of those all night diners. Xavier backs the bike into an empty space and cuts the engine. I slowly peel myself off of him, and he twists, extending his hand to help me off the bike.

  He reaches for the strap under my chin. “First ride?”

  I reluctantly nod, unable to lie because I’m terrible at it. “Yes. How could you tell?”

  He lifts the helmet off my head and chuckles. “I think the claw marks etched into my ribs are a telltale sign.”

  I cover my mouth with my hand as a gasp escapes from me. I knew I was hanging on for dear life at some point, but he didn’t let on that I was hurting him. “I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you bad?”

  Xavier shakes his head and a strand of dark hair falls across his forehead as he lifts his shirt to assess the damage. My eyes zero in on the washboard abs on full display in front of me, each muscle clearly defined and very…lickable.

  Oh, Lord. Did I just think lickable? Who am I? I’ve never in my life referred to a man as lickable before. But in all fairness, I’ve never had a man like Xavier flash me his unbelievably ripped body before either, so I’m going to chalk it up to unexplored hormones.

  The urge to run my fingers along his skin pushes me forward a step. I bite my bottom lip as I trace the angry red marks just above his stomach. I swallow hard. His skin is even softer than I imagined.

  “We’ll have to work on relaxing your grip a little, but it’ll get easier every time we do it,” Xavier says, breaking me out of my lustful daydream.

  I jerk my hand away from him and he pulls his shirt back down before shoving himself off the bike. “You think we’ll be doing this again?”

  He smiles as he straps the helmet to the handlebars. “I think we will. You and I are going to be great friends. I already know it. And friends hang out with each other all the time.”

  “Friends?” I question, trying not to sound let down by the idea of only being Xavier’s friend. “What makes you think we are just friends?”

  He raises a thick eyebrow and smirks. “Come on, Anna. You’ve made it perfectly clear that I’m not your type, and that you’re never going to sleep with me, so I’ve come to accept that. I’m happy to play the friend and protector role while you find your footing here. Detroit’s a tough city. It’ll eat a girl like you alive if you don’t have someone watching out for you.”

  “And why would you be willing to do that for me?”

  “I guess it’s because I haven’t met someone as sweet as you in a long time, and I would like to see you stay that way. You need a guy like me around to keep all the assholes away,” he replies matter-of-factly.

  I fold my arms over my chest. In just the short time we’ve known each other he believes he can read me just like that? Maybe he needs a curveball thrown his way. “Maybe that’s why I came out here—to get mixed up with the wrong kind of man and make a few mistakes.”

  He smiles and takes my hand. “You shouldn’t say things like that to a man who’s a walking mistake, and one who would like nothing better than to take you home with him.”

  There he goes again with that suave dirty talk that makes me want to jump his bones.

  He doesn’t give me a chance to reply, just tugs me toward the door of the diner. The place isn’t packed, but isn’t entirely empty either. The white tile floor is worn but clean, and the booths look like they’ve seen better days. The open kitchen in the middle of the restaurant allows all the patrons to watch exactly what’s going on with their food as it’s prepared.

  The counter is packed with mostly gray-haired old men making small talk with each other, and the waitress, wearing a blue uniform, who is refilling their coffee. None of them seem to notice that we’ve come in until the woman glances up and spots us.

  A huge grin spreads across her face, making her round face appear even more like a perfect circle. Her dark hair has a lot of gray streaks through it—very noticeable because of the way she has her braids pulled up—and she seems more like a grandmother rather than a rabid wrestling fan.

  “Xavier Cold!” she exclaims as she sets the pot down and scoots around the counter. “Boy, you better get over here and give me a hug!”

  The moment she embraces him, Xavier wraps his huge arms around her petite frame. “It’s so good to see you, Nettie.”

  She pulls back and then abruptly smacks him on the arm. “Boy, what’s the meaning of staying gone for over two years without a goodbye?”

  He closes his eyes and sighs. “Come on, Nettie. You know I hate writing.”

  She shoves her hands onto her tiny waist. “Would it have killed you to call us more often than twice a year?”

  He nods. “You’re right. I’ll try harder, I promise.”

  She narrows her eyes at him. “You’d better. Just remember you aren’t too big for old Nettie here to whoop your butt if you don’t act right.” Nettie’s eyes flick to me. “Speaking of acting right, who do we have here?”

  “Nettie, this is Anna, my…friend.”

  Being introduced as just his friend hurts a little. I know we’ve just had this talk, and this is exactly the kind of relationship I should have with Xavier, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting him. The fact that he’s given up his pursuit so quickly stings.

  I extend my hand and Nettie’s smooth, brown skin makes contact with mine. “It’s very nice to meet you, Nettie.”

  “Mmmm hmm, you too.” She lets go of my hand and her gaze returns to Xavier. “I can tell she ain’t from around here. Way too sweet. Don’t you be taking this pretty little girl down to the Block, Xavier, you hear me? A girl like her doesn’t belong down there. Hell, a girl like her doesn’t belong in a dump like this either.”

  “I heard that!” the cook yells from across the counter.

  She waves her hand dismissively. “Oh, hush, Carl. Ain’t nobody talking to you. Go ‘head, Xavier, sit wherever you want, honey. I’ll bring you out some water.”

  “Hey, Carl,” Xavier tosses over his shoulder as he pulls me toward a corner booth.

  “What up, X! Good to see you, brother,” Carl answers as he pulls the white cook’s cap off his head, wipes his brow with a dish towel, and goes right back to cooking without washing his hands, grossing me out a bit. But I refuse to be rude.

  Xavier sits across from me. “Don’t mind Carl. That skinny little fucker is harmless.”

  “I heard that too! Don’t forget who taught you all those wrestling moves before you went and got a real trainer. I can still take you,” Carl taunts Xavier.

  Nettie smacks Carl on the butt with a dishtowel. “Hush, you old fool. Everybody here knows you didn’t teach our boy a damn thing. So quit flapping your gums and get back to what you’re actually good at—”

  Carl waggles his bushy, white eyebrows at Nettie. “You know what I’m good at.”

  Nettie twists her lips. “Yeah, cooking, fool. Now get back to it. I’ve got a hungry bunch here tonight.”

  Carl shakes his head and laughs as Nettie brings us out two waters and places them on the table. “You want the usual, honey?”

  Xavier shakes his head. “Not today. I’m on a new protein diet to help build muscle. I’m trying to bulk up.”

  “Lord, sugar. Your arms are already big as tanks. What’cha want to get any bigger fo’?”

  That’s a very good question, Nettie.


  He shrugs. “I’ve been thrown a bone to go after the championship belt and I have to be in top shape. I want the higher-ups in the biz to know how much I want it. How seriously I take my job.”

  “If you take your job any more seriously, honey, you’ll put one of them boys in the hospital…for real.”

  “You know all that’s fake, Nettie. We’re professional. Everything we do is choreographed and thought out ahead of time.”

  “Mistakes happen, child. You should know that better than anyone else.” She gives him a pointed look, but he doesn’t say a word. It’s like he doesn’t have to. These two have such a history they can communicate a thousand meanings in just one look—a look that passes me by because I’m clueless as to what in the world she could be talking about.

  “So that’s meat and egg whites for my boy. What about you, Anna, what’ll it be?” She turns her attention back to me.

  I glance around and notice most of the other patrons are having breakfast, so I figure that’s a safe bet. “Um, I’ll take the pancakes and sausage.”

  “Oh, I like this one—she’s got a healthy appetite.” Nettie nudges Xavier’s arm with her hip as she writes down our order on the notepad. “You can bring her around any time.”

  Xavier rolls his eyes while Nettie cackles before turning to head toward Carl. “Sorry about that.”

  I smile, liking the idea that Nettie is teasing him to lighten him up. “Not a big deal. I think it’s funny that she treats all the girls you bring in here like that.”

  He rubs his scruffy chin with his fingers. “I’ve actually never brought a girl in here before.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Really? I find that hard to believe. You’re trying to tell me that this isn’t where you bring all the girls who turn you down for sex? Hoping that by bringing them here it will impress them and get them to change their minds?”

  He bites his bottom lip. “Does this make you change your mind?”

  The way he rakes his teeth slowly over his bottom lip draws my attention to that stupid, sexy mouth of his. I force back a sigh as I once again find myself thinking about kissing him. If he weren’t so attractive, continuing to pretend that I’m not interested would be a hell of a lot easier.

  Finally, after focusing on his last question, I shake my head.

  “While I find it ridiculously charming that this place humanizes you, it doesn’t change my answer. I still won’t sleep with you.”

  His lips stay together, but one corner turns up into what appears to be a knowing grin. “That’s what I thought. So maybe we need to establish some friendship boundaries, so there’s no confusion about our relationship.”

  I take a sip of water to quench my suddenly dry throat. “What kind of boundaries?”

  “You know, some basic rules so we don’t give each other any mixed signals about moving past the ‘friend zone.’ I’m a big fan of specifying exactly where one stands.”

  I rest my chin in the palm of my hand. “I suppose you already have some of these rules in mind?”

  Xavier smirks and holds up a finger. “Rule number one: no getting naked in my bed.”

  I laugh. The thought that I’d ever be brave enough to strip down and hop into his bed on my own is comical. There’s no way I’ll ever muster up the courage to do that. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that one.”

  I hold up two fingers, ready to add some boundaries of my own. “Rule number two: no kissing.”

  He shakes his head. “That rule sucks. Friends kiss. That’s not one I’ll abide by.”

  “Not open-mouthed they don’t,” I argue.

  He sighs and holds up two fingers. “Amended rule number two: no open-mouthed kissing.”

  The thought of his lips on me in any form gets my blood pumping, but as long as I know there will be no tongue involved, I think I’ll be able to control myself. “I can live with that.”

  “Third and last rule,” he says while holding up three fingers. “If either one of us starts developing feelings for the other person, we have to tell them. We don’t want any pent-up sexual frustration building between us.”

  I lick my lips and bat away the idea that the ship containing all of my lust for him has already sailed, but he doesn’t need to know that. It’s not like I’ll ever act on them. “They sound like three solid rules to me.”

  “Agreed,” he replies as Nettie returns with our meals.

  “What are we agreeing to over here?” Nettie asks.

  Xavier pulls his fork out of his rolled up napkin. “We were just establishing the rules of our friendship, Nettie.”

  “Friends, huh? Okay, if you say so.” The doubt in her voice is clear. “I’ve never known you to have a girl as a friend, Xavier Cold.”

  He shrugs as he cuts into his eggs. “What can I say? Beautiful here, is different.”

  Nettie smiles at me and winks. “Different is good, honey.”

  She doesn’t give me a chance to reply, or ask what she meant by that exactly, before she walks away and tends to the other people in the restaurant.

  Xavier clears his plate and orders seconds before I even make it through a quarter of my food. When I give him a quizzical expression, he simply shrugs and informs me that muscle burns a lot of energy and constantly needs to be refueled.

  I take a sip of my water as I eye his broad shoulders and wonder how much time he spends perfecting his body. “So is that all you do?”

  He leans back and stretches his arm along the back of the booth, making himself comfortable. “Eat?”

  “That, and work out? Do you ever have time for much else?”

  He shakes his head. “Typically, no, but right now I’m on vacation.”

  I twist my lips. “You vacation in Detroit? Shouldn’t a vacation be somewhere tropical or something?”

  He lifts an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with Detroit? I was born and raised here.”

  I quickly try to backpedal, not meaning to offend him. “Nothing. I like it here so far.”

  A smile pulls across his plump lips. “I’d like to think that’s your way of saying you like me, considering you just got here today.”

  I fight back a smile. He’s right. Xavier has made the first day of my new life more exciting and invigorating than any other day I can remember. “I do like you.”

  He leans into me, licking his lips. “Still not enough to change your ‘friends only’ rule though, right?”

  “Right,” I quickly agree. “But it is nice to have someone to talk to.”

  He nods. “I know exactly what you mean.”

  Xavier’s next round of food comes to the table, and Nettie smiles at me. “So, Miss Anna, are you a wrestling fan?”

  I shake my head. “No, not really.”

  “You’ve never seen my boy here perform? He’s really somethin’.” She pats his shoulder.

  “To be honest, Nettie, I didn’t even know who he was until my cousin told me today. Then she pulled videos and photos up of him on the internet.”

  Xavier chuckles, drawing my attention to him. “You really had no clue who I was, did you?”

  I shrug. “Hate to disappoint you, but not everyone’s a wrestling fan.”

  “Maybe you’d like it if you gave it a chance.” Xavier glances up at Nettie after checking his watch. “Tension will be on in a few minutes. Let’s turn it on and make my girl a fan.”

  “You got it, sugar.” Nettie makes her way over to the counter and grabs the remote for the television hanging on the wall, changing it to a different channel.

  After the commercial break, a hard rock intro blares through the speakers as the words Tuesday Tension flash across the screen, followed by clips of wrestlers beating the crap out of each other. When Xavier’s face appears in the montage, I’m mesmerized by the cocky grin on his face before he tackles another man down onto the blue mat, using enough force to make me flinch at the thought of physical pain.

  “That was one of my favorite matches.”

  Xavier’s wo
rds draw my attention back to him.

  “Do you ever get hurt?” I quiz, wondering how someone can subject their body to so much and be able to walk away without a scratch.

  The corner of his mouth lifts up into the same cocky grin I saw moments before on the screen. “You worried about me?”

  “More like curious…and worried too, I guess,” I admit. “I don’t like to see people in physical pain.”

  He shrugs. “I can’t say that I’ve never been hurt, but I’m damn good at my job—as are most of the guys on the show. We wouldn’t be there if we didn’t know what we’re doing. The goal is to never really hurt one another, but to put on a good show. Give people their money’s worth.”

  “So none of it is real?” I ask as the show plays on in the background.

  “The show has writers. Every storyline is well thought out. Sometimes they get inspiration from things actually happening in our lives, but the pain—when we do actually get hit—hurts like a motherfucker. The guys who make it in the business know it’s mind over matter. The key is to turn off the part of your brain that experiences pain—to shut everything out. Being able to do that is going to make me the champ one day. My body can take punishment,” he explains.

  “Is that a goal of yours? To be the champion?” I ask, trying to figure out what makes him tick.

  He nods toward the television. “That’s the goal of every man on the show. It’s the ultimate prize, and people will do whatever it takes to get it.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “That sounds pretty cutthroat.”

  “Believe me, beautiful, my job isn’t all rainbows and fucking sunshine. I’ve got to watch my back constantly. A lot of the guys are pissed I’ve climbed to the top so fast. They don’t think I’ve earned a shot yet, even though our boss believes I have.”

  I stare into his eyes. “Have you earned it?”

  His gaze drops down to the table as he says, “I’ve been through some shit in my life. Nothing I’ve ever achieved has come easy. I’ve fought for everything I’ve ever gotten, including working my way to the top of Tension. There’s no one more dedicated to the job than me. So, yeah, I’ve earned it.”