by Ella Frank
The sun blistered the back of my neck as I kept my eyes on Xander, and when he smiled at something the young man said, there was a tightening in my chest that had nothing to do with fear, and everything to do with these new feelings that were tap-dancing around inside me.
This was getting real. The feelings, the emotions, the desire I had to be near Xander at all times now—it extended beyond wanting to keep him safe. If I were honest with myself, it’d stopped being about that days ago. Now it was about wanting to be near him, period, and wasn’t that eye-opening?
As a spark of recognition lit the young man’s face, he grinned and began talking to Xander as though he’d known him his whole life. Xander returned the easy conversation—of course he did—and when he flashed his famous smile, I found myself getting irritated that I wasn’t the one making him smile.
And what the hell was that about? Xander didn’t belong to me, not in any way at all. But it didn’t seem to matter. Not to my brain, and certainly not to my stomach, which was churning with a new kind of emotion—envy. I wanted to be the one making him forget about the last two shitty weeks, not be the sole reminder of it.
As Xander handed over his card and paid for his pastry, I turned away to do another quick sweep of the surrounding road and walkways, and when I was satisfied nothing looked suspicious, I looked back inside to see Xander heading for the doors.
I jogged over to pull one of them open for him, and when his eyes landed on me, a smile slowly spread across his lips. Right there, in the blink of an eye, the irritation I’d felt seconds earlier vanished. Because while Xander might’ve been chatting it up with that guy as though he was the most entertaining person he’d spoken to in weeks, this smile was personal and intimate, and I wouldn’t have traded it for the world.
“Thank you.”
“Sure thing.” I gestured to the paper bag he held. “What’d you get?”
Xander swung the sack between us and said, “Guess.”
As we walked up the sidewalk, I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. “Hmm, well, if they had turnovers, I think you got one of those. Maybe an apple one?”
Xander stopped in his tracks and turned to look at me with his mouth hanging open. “How on earth did you know that?”
I took the bag from him and peered inside, and yep, there was the apple turnover. “You get them all the time. Whenever you bring pastries on Saturdays you get a caramel walnut roll for Bay, double chunk chip cookies for Kieran, and”—I stuck my hand inside the bag—“a lemon bar for me.”
When I flashed a grin at Xander, he chuckled and shook his head. “You’re observant.”
I bit down into the tangy lemon curd and chewed, then I did something I’d never done in my life: I winked at him. “It’s kind of my job.”
Xander licked at his bottom lip, drawing my eyes like a fucking magnet, and when he reached out to run his thumb across the corner of my mouth, my dick jerked.
“You had powdered sugar on your face,” he said, and then licked his thumb clean.
Fuckin’ hell. I wanted to kiss him so badly that it was a miracle I didn’t drag him down to the sidewalk. Instead, I reached for his hand, and when he automatically took it, I marveled at how natural it now felt.
“Ready to head back?”
Xander nodded, and we began to make our way back to his building. We were one block over when he said, “This was a great idea. Thanks for getting me out of the house.”
“I have them occasionally.”
“You have them all the time.” Xander paused and looked down to our hands. “Like this whole undercover thing. You knew it would work, when I didn’t think it would.”
That wasn’t exactly true, but… “I just figured it would be the easiest way.”
“Easiest?” Xander laughed. “I’m not sure any of my past boyfriends would agree with that.”
“Then they’re fucking idiots.” Except Bay, I quickly amended in my head.
“I swear, when I talk to you lately, I feel like I’m getting to know someone I’ve never met before. How is that possible when I’ve known you most of my life?”
I took the final bite of my lemon bar and sucked the residual sugar from my thumb. “Maybe it wasn’t time yet.”
“Time for what?”
“To notice each other.”
Xander angled his head to the side, studying me closely. “And is that what we’re doing now? Noticing each other?”
I couldn’t stop myself. I reached out and brushed my fingers across the thick hair that had swept down across his forehead. “Oh yeah. I’m noticing all kinds of things about you, Mr. Anchorman.”
Like his heavy-lidded expression. He liked me touching him like this.
“Is this payback?”
“Payback?”
“Yes. For me kissing and stopping?”
I let out a low chuckle and let my hand fall back down to my side. “Maybe. Is it working?”
Xander’s gaze fell to my lips, and I had my answer even before he said it.
“Yes, I think it is.”
When we reached the front entrance of his building, I pulled open one of the doors for him and, still caught up in the man beside me, didn’t realize until the last second that one of the cleaners had been wiping down the glass.
I quickly apologized, but he brushed it off with a wave of his hand, and we headed to Xander’s private elevator.
As we stood there, shoulder to shoulder, he flashed me that hot smirk I was starting to recognize as flirting. Then he said something that proved that he was much better at this game of cat and mouse than I was.
“So, maybe tonight when we get home, you can tell me some of the things you’ve noticed about me.”
Game. Set. Match.
And though Xander had just won fair and square, I in no way felt like a loser.
“HAVE YOU EVER seen a live broadcast before?”
I turned to see Ryan walking over to the check-in desk where I stood and shook my head.
I was there tonight under the guise of bringing Xander dinner, but I wasn’t about to miss out on an opportunity to get my eyes on the man I couldn’t stop thinking about. I happily followed Ryan through to Control Room A and took the headset he held out to me.
“Just take a seat over here, and when everything gets going you’ll be able to hear.”
“Awesome. Thanks.”
“No problem. I gotta run.”
Before I could say anything else, Ryan disappeared out of the room, and I turned back to face the wall of monitors.
One showed the local news that came on before Xander’s nightly broadcast. Another had the stock market graphs and values ticking along the bottom of the screen. Then there was the international sister station of ENN, and on the massive monitor in the middle of all of that chaos was a still of Xander’s logo, Global News with Alexander Thorne, with a countdown clock above it that currently had five minutes remaining.
Men and women were bustling around the room punching buttons on elaborate control panels and barking out orders to one another. The glass doors behind me pushed open and Jim—Xander’s EP—walked through, grabbed a headset, and shoved it onto his head.
“We all ready to go in here?” he asked.
“Yep, ready to roll.”
“Okay.” Jim clipped a battery pack—or something like it—onto his belt, then nodded to the woman sitting directly in front of a massive control panel. With several flicks of the switches on the board, the logo vanished and Xander appeared sitting behind his desk, where he was reading over something in front of him. “Everything looking good, boss?”
Xander looked up, staring directly into the camera focused on him. He’d changed from his shorts and shirt into a pristine black suit and snowy-white button-down and teal tie, and wow, the things it did to his hair and eyes were… Well, they were fucking stunning.
As I shifted in my seat, reminding my body I was out in public and it needed to behave itself, Xander smoothed a hand down t
he front of his tie and pulled his chair in further under the desk.
“Everything’s good. Were we able to update the graphics for the opening story? I heard the number of people reported without electricity changed a couple of minutes ago.”
“We’re working on it now,” someone in the far left of the control room called out, and Jim relayed the info back to Xander.
“Very good. I expect the number will change again midway through the broadcast, so can we make sure to be on that so we can update everyone by the end of the program?”
“On it already,” Jim said.
“Okay, then I’m good.”
Jim barked out a few more orders, and then he glanced around the control room. His eyes caught on me and he paused. “Ah. It looks like you’ve got a live audience tonight, Mr. Thorne. Sean’s here.”
When Xander frowned, Jim smirked at me.
“Want to wish him luck?”
For a second, I wondered why Jim found it necessary to tell him that I was there. Who cared if I was or not? But then I remembered Xander’s comment about Jim finding us an unlikely match and wondered if this was a test or some shit.
Well, if it was, I was about to pass with flying colors.
Jim walked over and pressed a button on a table mic in front of me. “You just talk in here.”
“Got it.” I pushed the button, looked up at the screen, and said, “Hey there, anchorman.”
Xander smiled, and any thought other than him vanished from my mind.
“You scrub up real good, you know that?”
Xander chuckled, and then looked directly down the camera and said, “I’m glad you finally noticed.”
At the not-so-subtle reminder of our discussion this afternoon, I swallowed back a groan. “Have a good show.”
“I will now. See you in thirty minutes.”
I took my finger off the button and sat back in my seat, and when I looked up at Jim, I noticed his eyes had narrowed a fraction. Guy was acting really fucking odd, and before I could ask him if there was a problem with me being there, he turned and headed back to the center of the room.
“Okay, Xander. You’re on in thirty.”
The countdown began, and when it hit three, two, one and the promo and music for the broadcast began, my phone vibrated in my pocket.
I pulled it out to see it was Nichols calling me back. Just as I got to my feet, Xander appeared on the screen and said, “Good evening, and welcome to Global News this Friday evening. I’m Alexander Thorne…”
Damn it. I really wouldn’t have minded watching him for the next half-hour, but I needed to take this call.
I headed out of the control room, brought the phone to my ear, and answered.
“Hello, Sean here.”
“Hey, man, how’s it going?”
“It’s going.”
“Yeah, I feel you.” Nichols sighed. “These blackouts are getting out of hand tonight.”
“No shit. Got to love Chicago in the summer.”
“I don’t know about that, but the winters are fucking worse, sooo…” Nichols chuckled, and then quickly sobered up. “Sorry, but I’m not calling with anything good. First up, I might as well tell you, we still got nothing on the plate. Could be it was stolen, switched out, or God knows what, but there’s no car matching your description with that plate as far as we can tell right now.”
Shit. I’d hoped that wasn’t what was holding things up, but I’d begun to suspect that was the case. God, sometimes I really hated being right. “What about the florist?”
“Same deal, kinda. No delivery guy matching the description you gave works there. Just two lovely ladies and a middle-aged man who owns the shop. I asked about who placed the order, and they said it was done online.”
“Of course it was. So who picked them up? Who delivered them?”
“They said they use independent delivery guys or messengers on busy days.”
“And let me guess, that day was busy.”
“You got it.”
I cursed and ran a hand through my hair down to the back of my neck. I was hitting one roadblock after another. “Well, thanks for fucking nothing, Nichols.”
“Yeah. I know. I told you I wasn’t calling with anything good.”
“Let me know if anything hits on the license plate. I won’t hold my breath.”
“Probably a smart idea. I’ll see you at the dinner tomorrow night.”
“Yeah, see ya there,” I said. As I hung up, I looked at Studio A’s doors and the bright red light above it with the words ON AIR. I wished I could keep Xander in there.
Safe behind a locked door and camera, where I could keep my eyes on him at all times. Safe from this lunatic who was hunting him down.
37
Xander
I’D NEVER BEEN more thankful in my life to see that the power was still on in my building. Sean parked his SUV and we headed across the lot to the elevator.
It was a chance riding it up to my floor for sure, but what was the alternative? Trek up twenty-five flights of stairs in this heat? I wouldn’t have opted for that on any night of the week. But when I added in the desperate hunger I had to be somewhere alone with Sean, that idea was definitely off the table.
This morning felt as though it had happened years ago, not hours, and the tension that had been building between us was close to fever pitch as the elevator finally hit my floor and the doors slowly slid open.
Sean stepped out first, and when I followed close on his heels, he said, “Don’t move. This is just gonna take me a minute.”
He disappeared down the hall to the gym and bedroom areas, and I thought it a shame I couldn’t just follow and stay in one of them with him. But now more than ever, I understood the importance of making sure things were clear before going further, because if this psycho had been in my house, the last thing I wanted was to meet up with him somewhere in the dark.
A shudder racked my body, but when Sean marched back up the hall, I quickly shoved it aside. I wasn’t going to let fear and worry ruin my night. I’d let this creep into too many facets of my life already, but tonight I planned to enjoy myself as though that asshole didn’t exist.
“All clear?” I asked as Sean got closer, and I had to slip my hands into my pockets so I didn’t do anything stupid, like grab him and shove him up against the nearest wall.
“Those rooms are,” he said. “Let me check out the rest of the house real quick.”
The serious tone and expression on his face was so damn hot I was having difficulty remembering the reason he was checking things. But I nodded and took great pleasure in watching him stride off down my hall.
Who knew what a fine ass Sean Bailey had? Or that watching him throw around his authoritative side would get me so damn hot?
If someone had told me that at the beginning of all of this, I would’ve laughed them out of the building. But when Sean re-entered the hall and crooked a finger at me, my cock didn’t find anything funny about the action at all. It found it all kinds of sexy.
“Clear?” I asked again, as I entered the kitchen to see Sean by the open doors of the terrace. He’d left the kitchen lights on, a move that was no doubt designed to make me feel more secure.
“All clear.” Sean was about to close the doors when I shook my head.
“Leave them open. It’s a nice night.” I walked over to him and enjoyed the breeze that drifted by.
“Do you want something to eat?” Sean asked. “I could make us something.”
I appreciated the offer, but there was only one thing I was hungry for, and it wasn’t food.
“Xander?”
This was it. This was where I either ended everything and chalked last night up to crazed emotions, or…
I reached for Sean’s hand, and when his fingers slipped between mine, I stepped outside and tugged him along with me.
Sean said nothing as I led him over to the rail, and somewhere in the back of my mind I was aware that it had been the night out h
ere on this terrace that my feelings had begun to cross the line.
That was the night I’d known I was in trouble, and as I stood here now, with a multimillion-dollar view surrounding me, and Sean the only thing I wanted to look at, I knew I’d moved beyond the point where I could fool myself.
I wanted to be with Sean, in any way he’d have me. When he raised our hands so mine was resting flat against his chest, I could feel his heart thumping steadily beneath it.
It was peaceful, calm, one of the most beautiful moments of my life, and it was hard to remember that outside of this bubble, the rest of my life was in complete chaos.
“I heard back from the precinct—”
“No,” I interrupted, and pressed a finger against his lips. “Not tonight. Can we just have one night where we don’t talk about this? Where I pretend that everything in my life is normal?”
“I hope not, because then you might stop touching me.”
“On the contrary: touching you is quickly becoming one of the most normal things in the world to me.”
“Xander… Shit.” Sean wound an arm around my waist and slowly drew me in, then he lowered his head to rest his forehead to mine. “There’s so much about this that I don’t understand.”
“I know,” I said, as his heart thumped a little faster beneath my palm. “And if you don’t want to go any further, I—
“No. That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s not?”
“No. I meant that I don’t understand how I didn’t see you all this time. You were right there, and I…”
“I feel the same way.”
“You do?”
“I really do.”
Sean smirked. “I mean, then there’s the fact that you’re a guy.” Just when I thought he might let go, his fingers tightened around my waist and he whispered, “But that doesn’t seem to matter anymore. I want you anyway.”
I groaned and turned my mouth into his, and the second they connected there was no looking back. His lips parted and I entered, and when my tongue got the first taste of his, my knees close to buckled. Sean drew my hand up around his neck and then let go to haul me in close.