Inside Affair

by Ella Frank

  “This is my room.”

  I glanced by his shoulder and nodded. “Okay, let’s go.”

  “Excuse me?”

  His look of disbelief made me snort. “I need to see your room, Xander. Don’t worry, I don’t want to sleep in it.”

  “Trust me, I wasn’t worried. You’re sleeping in there,” he said, pointing to the room behind me.

  “Works for me. Doesn’t change anything, though. I still need to see it.” I reached around him for the handles, and as I pushed the doors open and stepped inside, my jaw nearly fell open. Marble floors. If I’d thought the rest of the house was over the top, it had nothing on Xander’s bedroom.

  With the room situated at the far end of the building, the architect had used the corner angle and views to his advantage, that was for damn sure.

  The second you stepped inside, you were greeted with one spectacular view after another, starting with the wall directly in front of you which was nothing but glass and showcased Lake Michigan. To the right of that was a half wall of windows that overlooked the sparkling lights of downtown Chicago.

  But before you could even begin to appreciate that view, your attention was brought back inside, because the rest of that wall was made up of the wide backboard to the enormous two-tiered platform that housed Xander’s bed, and it looked more like a stage than a place a person slept.

  There was a fireplace opposite the bed, and a leather settee in the corner of the room—you know, in case you couldn’t find somewhere to sit in the other ten million rooms.

  It was extravagant, opulent, a room that screamed decadence and sex. As I ran my eyes over the plush covers and satin cream sheets, I imagined how it would feel to slide between them, and my dick kicked in immediate response.

  Wait…what the fuck?

  When I realized I’d probably been standing there a little too long without speaking, I swallowed and reminded myself who this bedroom belonged to and that getting hard in here would send all the wrong kinds of messages.

  So I looked over my shoulder to see Xander with his hands shoved in his pockets and did what I did best—I deflected.

  “What? No spinning bed? Have to say, I’m a little disappointed.”

  9

  Xander

  FIVE A.M IS an ungodly hour for most, but for me it’s the vital hour. It’s six in New York and the world is waking up. Anything and everything that broke in the handful of hours I’d been asleep was just starting to roll out over the news waves, and that was where my day began.

  As I sat up and cracked my neck from side to side, I stared out at the glittering city below and wondered what the day would bring. In my line of work it could be anything from the mundane to breaking news, but my job was never boring.

  After a much-needed shower, I toweled off, grabbed my black terrycloth robe, and then slipped into my Uggs before making my way back to my bedroom, where I picked up my phone and scrolled through my emails.

  When there was nothing there of immediate importance, I dropped it in my pocket and headed across the room, more than ready to hunt down my first hit of caffeine.

  I pulled open the double doors and clutched at my chest as my eyes locked on Sean, who had just stepped out in front of me.

  I’d completely forgotten he was there, or purposely pushed it aside, but as my memory kicked back in, I said, “Did you sleep out here all night?”

  “No.”

  When he didn’t further elaborate, I took in his navy sweatpants, tight white t-shirt, and disheveled hair. His jaw was lined with dark stubble, and he looked half-asleep.

  “Then what are you doing?”

  “I heard your shower, so here I am.”

  I looked at him as though he’d lost his mind. “What do you mean, so here you are? I just walked out of my bedroom. Did you think something was going to happen to me?”

  Sean’s jaw bunched as he crossed his arms over his chest—a well-built chest, I couldn’t help but notice. “I’m just making sure you’re okay. That is why I’m here, isn’t it?”

  “I suppose it is. I just didn’t realize you’d be so…diligent that you’d want to make sure I emerged from my bedroom intact.”

  Sean’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, well, maybe tomorrow I won’t be so diligent. Who the fuck gets up at five in the morning, anyway?”

  I pulled the bedroom door shut behind me and shrugged. “I do. Would you like to come and sweep the kitchen before I make my coffee? You never know who might be hiding in one of my cabinets.”

  I shook my head as I went to brush by him, but Sean reached out and grabbed hold of my upper arm.

  “Do you think this is some kind of fucking joke?”

  No, I didn’t. But I’d always felt safe in my house, and I’d be damned if I let that creep change that now.

  “You’d be wise to start taking this shit seriously, Xander. Some crazy fucker wants to get close to you. Do you understand that?”

  Sean’s eyes were fixed on mine, the seriousness of his words reminding me of everything that had happened after last night’s show. “Yes, I do.”

  “Good. Then act like it.” Sean let me go. “Don’t underestimate this guy. Just because you live in a castle, doesn’t mean it can’t be breached.”

  I gave a clipped nod, and as Sean disappeared inside his room, he called out, “I take my coffee with cream and two sugars. I’ll be out in a minute, then we’ll settle in and work on this list of yours.”

  Nearly forty-five minutes later, I found myself looking at the clock in the living room and wondering if time had somehow stopped.

  “Okaaay,” Sean drawled as he flipped several pages of his notepad back in place and tapped his pen on the top page. “I’m pretty sure we have a name here for each letter of the alphabet. So if you could let me know what the next name starts with, I’ll try to keep them in some kind of order.”

  “You’re having a really great time with this, aren’t you?”

  “By this, do you mean writing down your many, many fuck buddies? Because no. I’m actually getting a hand cramp.”

  It was right in that moment that I wondered if killing Sean would be worth the life sentence I would get. Maybe the judge would be lenient if I relayed what a gigantic pain in the ass he was.

  “I hate you.”

  “That’s so sweet,” Sean said, tossing the pad on the couch beside him. “And I’m touched that I’m the one man in Chicago that you don’t want to—”

  “Finish that sentence and I’m going to kick you in the balls.”

  Sean snorted. “I mean, they’re pretty big and all, but I doubt even you could reach them from over there.”

  Choosing to ignore his dumb ass, I looked out the window. “I told you there was a lot.”

  “You didn’t tell me there was enough to fill Madison Square Garden.”

  I cut my eyes to him lounging back in his seat with his legs kicked out, his arm resting along the back of the couch. “And I suppose you’re a monk?”

  “Hey, I can still count mine on both hands. Twice over, maybe, but at least I can. Can’t say the same for you, Mr. Playerrr…” Sean smirked. “Gotta say, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

  One of the reasons I tried to avoid being around Sean on my own was that way I had some hope of reining in my impulse to say something I would regret—case in point, “Who said ‘in me’ is the way I like it?”

  Sean’s forehead creased as though he were thinking that over.

  “Ugh, forget it,” I said, getting to my feet. “Are we done with this portion of the interrogation?”

  “Yeah, I guess. But you might as well sit back down. We’re not done with the rest of it.”

  “The rest of it? What else could you possibly need to know?”

  “Let’s see…” Sean picked up the pad. “What these guys look like. What kind of clothes they wear. How do they act when they’re with you?”

  “That’s easy enough,” I said, and planted my hands on my hips. “They look nothing like y
ou, wear the complete opposite of anything you have in your wardrobe, and they act like they have a brain in their head.”

  Sean looked me over and then stood, and something in the way he was inspecting me made me back up a step.

  “So, basically, you like to date yourself.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Well, the opposite of me would be you. No wonder you and Bailey didn’t work. You were too busy searching for yourself.”

  Beyond irritated now, I glared at Sean’s smug face. Jesus, he was being an ass this morning, and the more he pushed, the more worked up I got. Like that last comment. I knew he didn’t mean it the way I took it, but he was a little too close to the truth.

  Searching for myself? That was a pretty accurate description of how I’d felt during my relationship with Bailey, and about halfway into it, I’d realized I wasn’t going to find any answers with my best friend. It had been too comfortable, too familiar, and I already knew that version of myself. It was all the other parts, the hunger, the darker urges, the unexplainable restlessness within me that I didn’t understand—and still didn’t.

  “Bailey is nothing like you,” I said, more annoyed than I could remember being in a long time. “He has more compassion and feeling in his little finger than you have in your entire body. Maybe if you had more, people wouldn’t actively avoid you.”

  As my words echoed off the twelve-foot ceiling, Sean’s spine seemed to stiffen, and I took perverse satisfaction in knowing I’d finally landed a blow.

  “Trust me,” he said in a quiet voice I’d never heard before. “You’re not the first to point it out. Our father drilled that into my head every day of my life.”

  Sean took a step away from me, and my gut twisted with guilt. “Sean—”

  “We’re done here.” Sean’s tone was as cold as an arctic blast. It froze me in place. “Let me know when you’re ready to go to work.”

  I opened my mouth—to say what I had no clue—but it didn’t matter anyway. Sean was already walking out of the room, which was probably for the best. Any longer in each other’s company, and the likelihood we’d come out alive on the other side was slim to none.

  SEVERAL HOURS LATER, I was climbing inside Sean’s SUV, and the tense silence between us was the same as it had been earlier.

  I couldn’t believe this was happening. I’d just spent the morning having one of the most uncomfortable conversations of my life, only to wind up in a verbal sparring match that had ended with the two of us nearly killing each other.

  I chanced a quick look in Sean’s direction as he pulled out of the parking garage. This was not good. Sean had always been the king of inane conversation, so as he sat in broody silence, I found myself growing uneasier and uneasier. Because how in the world were we going to pull off this ridiculous charade if he wouldn’t even talk to me?

  “Do you know where the building is?” I asked, trying to get us back to some kind of normalcy.

  “Yep, I Googled it.”

  “Okay.” We sat there for a few more seconds, and when the silence started to border on uncomfortable, I said, “When we get there, I’ll take you up to meet Marcus—”

  “Marcus?”

  “Marcus St. James. He’s the president of the news division at ENN. My boss.”

  Sean tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “And just how close are you and your boss?”

  I frowned.

  “Just making sure he shouldn’t be on your list.”

  “Marcus? Definitely not. He’s just my boss.”

  Sean gave me the side eye, and I could tell he didn’t believe me.

  “What?”

  “Are you lying?”

  I arched an eyebrow. “Why would I lie?”

  “I don’t know. ’Cause he’s your boss.”

  “So?”

  “That would be a sticky situation.”

  “I highly doubt it,” I said, and when Sean just stared at me, clearly not understanding my joke, I sighed. “Trust me, he’s the last person I’d ever date.”

  “Just making sure I’ve covered all my bases.”

  I rolled my eyes, wondering how I was going to get through the next eight hours, and muttered, “Yes. God forbid I have any dignity left by the end of this.”

  The rest of the trip we made in silence, and that seemed much more preferable than another verbal go-around with Sean Bailey.

  10

  Sean

  FOR THE THIRD time in the last twenty-four hours, I found myself standing shoulder to shoulder with Xander inside an elevator, wondering what the hell I was doing there.

  I mean, I knew why I was there, but after our blow-up this morning, fuck if I knew why I’d stayed. I’d told myself several times over to just call one of the agencies I’d worked with before, hand off the case, and let this be done with.

  Yeah, I was the best option for this, but right now Xander’s life was more in danger from us coming to blows than any pervert tracking him.

  This morning had been rough. That was my fault. I’d been pushing Xander, fucking around with him. But instead of brushing me off and walking away like usual, Xander had fired back. And damn, his aim had been spot-on.

  Nothing pushed my buttons more than being compared to my brothers. Not because I didn’t think they were stand-up guys—they were two of the best men I knew—but because we’d been pitted against each other our whole lives by a strict father who had aspirations that we follow in his footsteps. Especially his eldest boy.

  Fuck, usually I kept that kind of shit to myself. But Xander had gotten under my skin with that jab about not measuring up to Bailey, and now he probably thought I was harboring secret jealous tendencies, which couldn’t be farther from the truth.

  I looked at him from out of the corner of my eye to see him scrolling through his phone. He hadn’t said anything since our discussion about his boss, and I had a feeling I’d pissed him off again.

  Well, what else was new? It wasn’t like it was a stretch. Lots of people hooked up with their bosses, and it would’ve been shortsighted not to ask. I didn’t see why he was so bent out of shape. Either way, I figured he’d get over it. That was how it always worked with us. I usually did or said something to annoy him, he’d get surly for an hour or so, and then we’d move past it.

  It was like a well-rehearsed show we put on whenever we were near one another, which meant the next however many days were going to be a hard sell if we didn’t pull our heads out of our asses, and soon.

  “What are you looking at?”

  I almost lied and said I wasn’t looking at anything. But that wasn’t my way, so I turned toward him and said exactly what was on my mind. A trait that usually landed me on a person’s shit list. “I was just wondering how long you’re going to be pissed off at me.”

  Xander’s eyes narrowed and his expression turned murderous as he lowered his phone and pivoted so we were face to face.

  “Me, mad at you? You’re the one who’s been ignoring me for the last however many hours. Don’t start with me.”

  I could all but see the steam pouring out of his ears, as he no doubt tried to control his urge to lash out at me. Something I would’ve paid good money to witness, considering how immaculately put together he looked.

  In designer jeans, a black button-up shirt, with his hair styled and his jaw clean-shaven, there was nothing out of place about him. Hell, I would’ve even laid bets his briefs were ironed.

  “Don’t start wh—”

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Xander took a step closer to me. “You, poking at me. Trying to get a rise out of me. We’re about to meet with my boss and coworkers, and I’d rather do that without thoughts of bloody murder on my mind.”

  “Hmm, confessing murderous intentions to a detective. And here I always thought you were smart.”

  Xander sighed. “Can we just call a truce now? Please? This is us.”

  As the elevator doors parted and we stepped out into the lobby, my eyes lan
ded on a wall-sized poster of the man standing to my left, and my jaw nearly hit the floor.

  Global News with Alexander Thorne was splashed across the enormous promo poster. But what really caught and held my attention was the striking color of Xander’s eyes in the image, in contrast to his hair.

  That had to be photoshopped. Or maybe that was why he colored his hair that gunmetal color, to make his eyes pop.

  I glanced over my shoulder to see for myself. “Do you color your hair?”

  The appalled look on his face told me that was a definite no. I took a step toward him to get a closer look, but Xander held his hand up. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I’m looking to see if you’re lying about your hair.”

  “And you think you can tell that by what, getting all up in my face?” Xander screwed his nose up. “You’re an idiot.”

  “And you didn’t answer my question.”

  “I don’t plan to, either. It was rude, but that’s nothing unusual for you. Let’s go. Marcus is waiting.”

  Xander started off down a long hall. I caught up to him and slipped my hands into my pockets, then I had a thought. “Do you think we should practice holding hands now?”

  Xander’s head whipped around so fast that I was surprised he didn’t break his neck. “Quit it, Sean.”

  “Quit what?”

  “I don’t know, just…quit it.”

  When Xander aimed a frosty glare my way, I couldn’t help my broad smile. Finally, we were back to our usual selves.

  “Hey, I’m just trying to get into the groove. And at least you’re not thinking about the real reason I’m here now, are you?”

  “No. I’m just wishing you were anywhere else.”

  I chuckled as we stopped in front of a large desk. A woman wearing thick, purple-rimmed glasses, glanced up and spotted us.

  “Alexander.” A cheerful grin that made her eyes twinkle lit up her face. “You can go straight in. He’s expecting you.”