Page 151 of X Marks the Stalker
Want to join us?
He reads my text. His eyebrow raises slightly, and I can almost hear his mental calculations, weighing the risk of meeting Zara against disappointing me.
Xander
Are you sure?
She’s dying to meet you.
“I invited him over,” I tell Zara.
Zara practically bounces in her seat. “Yes! I’ve been wanting to meet this guy for weeks. He’s like Bigfoot—I was starting to think you made him up.”
Xander pushes away from the column, moving through the crowd with that graceful, purposeful walk that somehow parts groups of people without them even noticing, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Oh my God,” Zara murmurs. “The way he’s looking at you. Like you’re the only person on the planet. So hot.”
“Stop it,” I whisper, but I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face.
“Finally!” Zara claps her hands together. “I get to meetthe man who’s got my best friend sneaking around and blushing at text messages.”
Xander slides into the seat beside me, his thigh pressing against mine under the table. His presence seems to reshape the entire space, like gravity shifting.
“You must be Zara,” he says, extending his hand. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Wish I could say the same,” Zara replies, shaking his hand while giving me a pointed look. “Oakley’s been suspiciously tight-lipped about you.”
“Self-preservation,” I mutter into my drink.
Xander’s arm settles across the back of my chair, fingertips lightly brushing my shoulder. “She’s right to be cautious. I’m extremely dangerous.”
“Uh-huh,” Zara laughs.
“How long have you known each other?” Xander asks, signaling the bartender for a whiskey.
Zara grins. “Since freshman year of college, when she found me crying in the bathroom over a failed biology exam.”
“You were pre-med back then, right?” I remind her.
“For all of three months before I realized I’d rather work with animals than people,” Zara says. “Oakley brought me coffee every morning during finals week when I was switching majors.”
“That sounds like her,” Xander says, smiling. “Quiet support when it matters most.”
“So what exactly do you do at this security company?”
“I watch people,” Xander answers so matter-of-factly that I nearly choke on my drink.
“He means surveillance systems,” I clarify. “Very boring corporate stuff.”
“Oakley’s never brought a guy around before. You must be special.”
“She’s special,” Xander replies, his eyes never leaving my face. “I’m just along for the ride.”
A flush creeps up my neck that has nothing to do with the alcohol. Something about the way Xander looks at me—like he sees every part of me and wants it all anyway—still catches me off guard.
“He’s alright,” I say with exaggerated nonchalance.
“Just alright?” Xander challenges, leaning closer. “That’s not what you said last night when I?—”
