Phenomenal X

by Michelle A. Valentine

I open my mouth to dig a little deeper because I’m so curious about him, but quickly shut it. So many questions race through my mind—like what kind of shit has he been through?—but I’ve only known the man a few hours, and I don’t want to come off sounding like a nosy pest. But the curiosity burns through me like a pesky itch begging to be scratched.

  Before I go against my better judgment and pry anyway, a voice on the television calls out Xavier’s wrestling name loud enough to jerk my attention back to the show. The man with broad shoulders and rippled muscles shoves his dark hair back off his face and points his black eyes directly into the camera.

  “Phenomenal X, how convenient you choose now to take a personal vacation. What a load of crap. Such lies you tell all these fans who support you!”

  The crowd boos the man, but it doesn’t stop him. “Why don’t you tell them all the truth, X? Tell them all that you’re too afraid to face me again after you cheated your way to a win last Tuesday. We both know who the better man is. Why don’t you tell them all how much pain I caused you? No, you’re too ashamed to let the world see how jacked-up your face is thanks to me. I want a rematch!”

  I glance over at Xavier, who is focused intently on the screen. His hands ball into fists as they rest on the table in front of him. Whoever this man is, he certainly seems to be getting to him. If all this was so fake and scripted, why is he getting so angry?

  The man on the show leans his elbows on the red ropes casually, like he’s completely comfortable being a jerk on national television, and holds the microphone up to his lips. “Whatever your reason for running, X, know that I’ll be right here when you get back—ready to kick your ass all over the place.”

  Music blasts again as the man drops the mic into the ring and smirks as the camera zooms in on his face.

  That guy gives me the creeps. “Who is that?”

  Xavier’s nostrils flare a bit, like the mere thought of this man disgusts him somehow. “That’s Rex ‘The Assassin’ Risen. He’s the other guy the boss is looking at as a contender for the belt.”

  “As in the championship?” I clarify.

  “Yeah,” is all he says.

  I tilt my head. “I take it you don’t like him very much?”

  He shakes his head. “Fighting outside the ring is strictly prohibited, and we all sign a contract that states that we won’t do it. We fight—we get booted, without hesitation. There are too many guys chomping at the bit to take our spots for the company to worry about loose cannons. Assassin has begged for an ass beatin’ for a while, but the fucker knows I won’t touch him. He gets under my skin, and he loves to push my buttons.”

  “So what did he do to antagonize you? Was it over a woman?”

  His brow furrows. “What makes you assume that?”

  I shrug. “Seems like that’s one thing you’re willing to fight over—contract or not. You were ready to pound Jared over me back at the club earlier, so I just assumed.”

  “You assumed wrong. I don’t fight over women.”

  “So then why did you protect me? You didn’t hesitate for even one second to call out Jared.” I try to point out how he’s just contradicted himself.

  His blue eyes search my face, like he’s looking for answers to that very question for himself. “I don’t know how to explain it, and I’m sure I’ll fuck this up when I try to because it sounds crazy even to me.”

  I reach over and touch his hand, wanting to hear his reasons so badly I can taste it. “Try.”

  His tongue darts out and licks his lips. “Have you ever felt a connection with someone without even knowing them? When I look at you, I see goodness. I’ve not had a lot of good shit happen to me in my life, so when I see something pure, I’m drawn to it.”

  I trace my fingers over his hand. “What do you mean? You have an awesome career, you’re famous…how is that not good?”

  “That stuff isn’t real. It can all go away in a heartbeat.” He pulls away and rubs his face. “I told you I’d fuck this up. I guess what I’m trying to get at is that I’m alone. Other than Nettie and Carl, I have no family—no one. I’ve been on my own a long time, not living the way I should, and at one point I dug myself into a hole so deep, I wasn’t sure I’d make it out alive. It’s not a life many people want to get mixed up in. Working here saved me. Detroit is a rough place, so when I see a nice girl like you coming into a city filled with pricks like me, I worry. I don’t want you to become jaded down the road when the world’s cruel realities set in. You have too much light to be clouded by the dark.”

  I smile. It’s crazy to think he’s so compassionate about me after only a few hours and while his intensity is unfathomable, I’m completely flattered. “So you’re saying you want to become my personal bodyguard and protect me from the big bad city?” I tease.

  He reaches back for my hand and laces his fingers through mine. “There are lots of things I would like to do to your body, but yeah, if you want to look at it like that, guarding it from other guys is definitely a top priority.”

  I giggle as heat rushes to my face. Oh, how I would like to tell him to do with me as he pleases, but I know I’ll hate myself if I allow some man I barely know use me like that. I may not have much experience with men, but I’ve seen enough in movies and read enough books to know that a lot of men toss women aside after they get what they want from them. Even if that man causes tingles to explode throughout every inch of me with one simple touch. I don’t think I could do that if he didn’t love me.

  Gah! I have to stop thinking about him that way. Every time I think about him, my stupid brain thinks of sex—more specifically, what sex would be like with him. How it would feel. How he would taste.

  I need a subject change. Fast. “So how long are you on vacation?”

  “A little over a week. You going to miss me when I head back out on the road?” He smiles, fishing for information.

  I shrug, trying not to take the bait, but eventually give in and smile. “I might. You are my friend, and official bodyguard in Detroit, after all.”

  He rubs his thumb over the side of my hand. “What about you? What are your plans now that you’re all settled in and have started making friends with the locals?”

  “A job, I guess. Quinn got me a job at Larry’s Bar and Grill with her. I start tomorrow.”

  The idea of having my first real job scares the crap out of me. It’s not like I’m doing this for pocket change—this job will be the only means I have of supporting myself. I have zero job experience, and even less of an idea of how to be a good waitress. If I fail at this, I don’t know what I’m going to do.

  “What’s that look for?” Xavier asks, pulling me out of my thoughts of impending failure. “No frowning, remember?”

  “Sorry, I’m nervous about tomorrow. I should probably be getting back to Quinn’s so I can rest up for my first day of work.”

  “I’m sure you’ll do great.” He glances down at his watch. “You’re right, it’s getting late.” He leans over to the side, fishes his wallet from his back pocket, and lays several one hundred dollar bills on the table before setting his plate on top of it.

  My eyes widen. Holy crap! He’s rich—like can-buy-anything-he-wants-rich—and yet he’s generous. All the wealthy people I know are tightwads. They would never leave a tip like that, family or not.

  “You are so nice.”

  “It’s the least I can do. They did a lot for me when I had nothing,” he answers simply.

  The sweet gesture of leaving that money for Nettie tells me so much about his character, and only reinforces the first thought I had about him being a good guy—whether he wants to believe it or not.

  Xavier stands and extends his hand down to me. “Ready, beautiful? Let’s get you home before you turn into a pumpkin.”

  I take his hand and laugh. “Did you just reference a princess story? Macho guys like you aren’t supposed to do that.”

  He pulls me up against his side and wraps his arm around my shoulders. “W
e do if we’re hoping to be a woman’s Prince Charming someday.”

  The idea that this sexy, beast of a man is trying to impress me causes my stomach to flip. If he keeps this up, those damn friendship boundaries we established will go right out the window because I won’t be able to stop myself from jumping his bones.

  Being on the back of Xavier’s bike is more comfortable the second time around. I press my chest against his back so tightly I swear we share the same skin. It’s crazy how seeing him around his…family, I guess is what he calls them, and getting into his head a little bit changes my perception of him somewhat. While he’s still a very intimidating human being, I know under all that toughness is a man with a good heart. Everything he says to try and push me away, like telling me he’s not a good guy, only makes me like him more. It’s like he’d protect me from anything that would hurt me—including himself—which is a very endearing trait in a man. If he wasn’t leaving soon and wasn’t a known womanizer, I could see myself falling for Xavier Cold.

  But he definitely isn’t the relationship type. He’s the let’s-have-some-fun-and-forget-each-other type, and that is a type that I most certainly do not partake in.

  The moment Xavier pulls up in front of Aunt Dee’s place, the thought occurs to me that I never even gave him directions. The moment he kills the motor, I hop off the bike and yank the helmet off my head, unable to stop myself from asking the question flashing in my brain.

  “How did you know where I lived?”

  He grins mischievously. “Your cousin Quinn isn’t the only one who knows how to track down someone’s information.”

  My teeth glide over my bottom lip, curious as to why he would go to all that trouble, and wondering what else this man knows about me. “I’m not certain that stalking me on the Internet would be that interesting. I’m boring.”

  His eyes twinkle. “Boring is relative, Anna. Someone who graduated with a degree in hospitality—with honors—and a minor in dance, doesn’t seem that boring to me.”

  I shake my head. “You found all that out on the Internet?”

  “I didn’t, Deena did.”

  Deena? The blonde from the club? She hates my guts and probably loathed that task. I’m surprised she didn’t fill his head with a bunch of lies about me while she was at it. “She work for you or something?”

  He nods, and shoves his dark hair back off his face. “Yeah, or at least she did until she threatened me a little while ago. I don’t do well with threats. Giving me an ultimatum of any kind doesn’t work. She knows that. I do what I want, when I want. It’s a shame because she was a decent PA.”

  I scrunch my brow. “What’s a PA?”

  “A personal assistant,” he clarifies. “Jimmy is going to hate doing all my personal and managerial shit until he finds a new one.”

  Xavier sounds like he might be a handful. “So you have two people that basically follow you around everywhere?

  “More or less. I didn’t ask Deena to come out here with me though. She showed up on her own.” The moment he says that everything falls into place. No wonder that woman hates me.

  Even though it’s none of my business, I ask, “Do you sleep with all your assistants?”

  He smirks. “Is it that obvious?”

  I laugh. “No woman would follow her boss unless she had to. And the look she gave me back at the bar—”

  “She’s threatened by you,” he interjects.

  “Why? Has she not seen herself?” I can’t imagine anyone who looks like Deena feeling threatened by the likes of me.

  Xavier taps my nose. “You obviously haven’t seen yourself, Anna. Every man in that bar was watching you tonight, wishing they were the lucky bastard who got to take you home.”

  “That’s why you said I was leaving with you whether I knew it or not, wasn’t it? You were protecting me from all the pricks in Detroit again, weren’t you?” I tease him, throwing his definition of every other man in the city back at him.

  He winks. “What are friends for?” Xavier cranks the bike alive, and over the rumble he says, “See you around, beautiful.”

  He doesn’t give me a chance to ask him when that will be before he speeds off into the darkness. A thousand questions dance through my mind as it replays the day I’ve just spent with this intoxicating man. I know never seeing him again would be the best thing for me, but I can’t stop the longing for him aching inside me. Xavier Cold is one bad man I pray I get the chance to know better.

  The brush runs through my hair, and I stare absently into the mirror while my thoughts drift to Xavier. Ever since he dropped me off last night, I’ve had him on the brain. I know we’re just friends, but I have this unyielding desire to be more than that. The problem is, I know what he wants from me, but I’m afraid to go there because I don’t think I can give myself over to him just one time and be okay with him walking away. I know I’ll want more, and he’s not the relationship type.

  I’m afraid of getting my heart broken.

  “Come on, Anna, we’re going to be late. If there’s one thing Andy hates, it’s tardiness, so hurry your cute ass up. You want to make a good impression on your first day,” Quinn calls from her bedroom—our bedroom now.

  I finish pulling my hair up into a high ponytail and rush out of the bathroom. “I’m ready.”

  She appraises my outfit—black shorts that read “Staff” across the butt and a bright green shirt with “Property of Larry” across my chest. “You look great!”

  I tug at the shorts, wishing they were a little longer. “I’m not so sure about this outfit, Quinn. It’s not very me.”

  She grabs her keys off the dresser. “Isn’t that the point? I thought you wanted to do the opposite of what you’d normally do.”

  I frown. “It is, but it’s all a little much to get used to at one time.”

  She wraps her slender arm around my shoulders as we walk toward the front door. “I promise it won’t be so bad. All the girls dress like this. Trust me. You’ll be thanking me when you’re counting your tips.”

  Quinn drives us to work in her Honda, and fills me in about the job and what I can expect. I nod in all the correct places, trying to pretend I’m not a complete mess inside. My nerves are in overdrive. Who knew starting a job would make me feel like a crazy person?

  We pull into the parking lot of Larry’s, and I stare at the brick building, anxious to get inside while simultaneously wishing I could run away.

  Quinn must sense my unease, because she pats my arm. “Don’t worry. You’re going to do great.”

  I give her a small smile. “Thanks. I’ll try not to let you down.”

  The moment we walk in through the back door, clearly marked “Employees Only” my nose is assaulted with the smell of fried, greasy food. Bodies flit around the tight kitchen so quickly I’m not sure where to point my gaze first. Two guys, wearing green t-shirts with the same slogan as mine, wave to Quinn from behind the grill. I fully expect my cousin to be polite and greet our coworkers, but instead she raises her left hand as we pass and flips them the middle finger.

  “Quinn, baby, don’t be like that,” the taller of the two guys whines.

  She doesn’t even glance in his direction, and the cook frowns. I’m not sure who he is, but he’s cute with floppy brown hair and boyish good looks.

  It appears Quinn hasn’t told me everything about this place.

  The blond cook beside the one who just spoke to Quinn allows his eyes to roam over my body, spending a noticeable amount of time on my chest.

  “Did you bring us fresh meat, Quinnie?”

  “Fuck off, Tyler. Don’t even think about it. Anna is off-limits.” She stops dead in her tracks and directs an evil stare at the brown-haired cook. “That means you too, Brock. You come near her or me, I’ll shank you where you stand.”

  Tyler holds up his hands in surrender. “Damn, Quinnie, who pissed in your Wheaties?”

  She narrows her eyes at the two men. “Ask your butt-buddy.”

&nbs
p; Tyler immediately whips his head in Brock’s direction and gives his arm a small shove. “Did you two break up? A fucking warning would’ve been nice, dude.”

  Brock shrugs, like he can’t come up with a better explanation than that.

  My eyes widen. She never even mentioned a boyfriend to me before, and by the sounds of things, the breakup was pretty recent. Even Tyler, who seems to know them both appears stunned, like the news is shocking.

  “Unbelievable!” Quinn mutters before tearing through the kitchen.

  “Quinn, wait!” Brock calls after as he chases her through the door, leaving me alone in the kitchen with Tyler.

  He flips the meat sizzling on the grill and shakes his head, a strand of his shaggy blond hair falling in his eyes. “Those two are nuts. I can’t keep up.”

  Curious, I ask, “Have they been together long?”

  Tyler lifts one shoulder in a noncommittal answer. “On and off for the past couple of months, I guess.” He looks up at me, a flick of recognition flaring in his brown eyes. “You’re her cousin, right? The one from Seattle or something?”

  “Portland,” I correct him. “I’m Anna.”

  He laughs. “The name I got—right around when Quinnie was warning me to stay away from you.”

  I laugh too, feeling strangely at ease with the guy. He seems harmless, and he must be pretty close to my own age. I can see Tyler and me being friends. Working here might actually be fun, and not the terrifying place I expected it to be.

  Feeling the need to fill the dead air lingering between us, I attempt to make small talk. “Have you been here long?”

  “Close to a year. Quinnie and Brock have been here longer. Brock’s my cousin,” he adds.

  “Glad to hear I’m not the only one who had a little inside help getting a job,” I tease.

  Tyler rakes his eyes over me again and then shakes his head, an amused smile on his face. “I don’t think you would’ve had a problem without your cousin’s help.”

  From out of nowhere a short, balding man smacks Tyler on the back of the head. “No hitting on our new employees.”

  “Ouch! Jesus, Andy, I was only being friendly,” Tyler wails.