Page 44 of The Billionaire's Masquerade Ball

“Need any help?” Wyatt asked Lucy.

“Do I look like I need help?”

“Not at all. But I think I’ll help anyway.” Wyatt smiled charmingly and Lucy laughed. Cynder held back a giggle as Wyatt held the door for Lucy and then followed her out.

“It was lovely to meet you, Xander,” Lucy called. “Later, Cynder! Remember my advice.”

Cynder’s nerves flared up being alone with Xander. Not just alone, but inches away on the couch. Him in a suit that probably cost a few thousand dollars. Her with her hair falling out of a messy bun, no makeup, and pajamas. As if it couldn’t be more obvious how different their worlds were.

“What advice?” Xander asked.

“Oh, nothing. Personal stuff.” Cynder felt her cheeks flush.

Xander patted the couch and smiled. “This is your home office?”

“Almost as luxurious as yours.”

“Except here, casual Friday happens every day, apparently.” He smirked down at her pajamas, which were visible as the blanket had partially fallen to the floor. Cynder straightened the blanket, tucking it around her legs. “Hey, I think the penguins pjs are cute.”

“Is this going to be a thing you do?” Cynder asked, wishing she could hide the flush in her cheeks.

“Thing?” Xander leaned toward her, his head propped up on his hand as his elbow rested on the back of the couch. His smile threatened to completely distract her, so Cynder tried to focus on his eyes. They were just as bad.

“The thing where you show up randomly in my life. Yesterday it was my work and today it’s my home.”

“Ah. I guess it has become my thing. Do you mind?”

“Are you going to stop doing it if I say yes?”

“Do you want me to stop?”

Cynder groaned. “Are you going to answer every question with a question?”

He grinned. “Would you like me to—”

“Xander. Why are you here?”

“I changed my mind about you working from home,” he said. “I need you in the office today.”

Every word had been laced with lightness and humor, as though this whole situation amused him endlessly. But when she looked at his eyes, she could see something else underneath. The humor was a mask. For what? It made her angry. She felt like he was toying with her.

“I don’t understand you,” Cynder said.

“What’s there to understand? Why don’t you elaborate on that thought.”

Cynder fumbled with her words. “You’re just … confusing. One minute you’re nice and laughing and joking. Then you’re cold.” She thought of the way he had dismissed her in front of Olivia, who clearly was some kind of ex. Just the memory of it sent a wave of hurt through her. “Or you act like I don’t matter at all. But then you come here to my apartment. I just don’t understand what you want from me.”

Xander winced, looking down at a seam on his jacket, picking at it with his thumb. As she looked at his face, she saw a vulnerability there that she had only glimpsed on Saturday night and in the cemetery, from a distance. Her hurt and frustration towards him peeled back, exposing the softer feelings she had underneath.

She wanted to avoid those feelings, to stuff them down and let them die in the darkness, but she couldn’t do it. Xander was complicated and confusing. He was totally wrong for her. But she simply wasn’t strong enough to hold back whatever pull she felt towards him. It was far more than physical. She could resist a handsome man. But she didn’t seem to be able to resist Xander. Maybe she should stop trying.

Despite all the logical reasons she shouldn’t, Cynder did like Xander. Quite a lot. More than she wanted to admit to Lucy or even to herself. They may have been brief interactions, but she felt like she had seen more of the real Xander than most people ever did. She also had seen him in the midst of his grief, which made her feel a strange bond of protectiveness and care toward him.

There were moments where it seemed like maybe he felt something too. The way he touched her so lightly, almost reverently. The way he kept showing up in her life, crowding her personal space. He was here in her apartment, inches away on the couch. He had come for her, even though he should be in his corner office, doing important billionaire things. That had to mean something.

And yet, Xander had told that woman that she was no one. He had asked Cynder to find the woman in the mask. His eyes had been so cold yesterday. The hurt from that still stung. But maybe he was hurting too.

Cynder reached out and brushed the back of his hand with her fingertips. It was a light touch, but his body tensed and his eyes met hers, smoldering with an emotion she couldn’t quite name. Cynder withdrew her hand, but he grabbed it, mindful of her splint. He traced over the material with a finger, frowning.

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