Page 74 of Xander
Subconsciously, or whatever you wanted to call it, unsure of how much time had passed, I woke up and moved my hand to find Xander... his side of my bed... it was cold.
I had been right.
Except for that first time that he fucked me, he didn’t stay in bed with me.
And just to make sure that I was right, I threw the covers off, headed to the bathroom, cleaned up, then walked to my front door.
Locked.
He had left.
Just like all the other times.
I tried to let the hurt flow through me and not center itself in my heart.
I didn’t want to be one of those women who allowed each bad thing to accumulate and then be a hateful, bitter shrew.
But this... it was taking longer to flow through me.
***
Checking the clock after I allowed my fingers and toes to finish drying after I painted them, I saw that it was lunchtime.
Thank god.
That meant I didn’t need an excuse to go see Xander.
But then I thought about all the times I had ambushed him while he was in the garage. I didn’t talk then, I helped when needed, I tried to just be in his presence so it would make me feel better, but…. Was I suffocating him?
When I get there, I’ll ask him.
Shutting my car off, I was shocked to see that all the bay doors were down. None of them was open. But then again, it wasn’t unusual for that to happen if they were all in church during their lunch break.
Shrugging my shoulders, I grabbed our lunch, climbed out of the car, and started heading for the clubhouse with a pep in my step.
But everything inside of me deflated, because the usual row of bikes parked right in front of the clubhouse was non-existent.
Well shit. They must be out to lunch or something.
I had two options.
One, I could get back in my car, go back home, and finish enjoying my day off, eat my sub for lunch, and then his for dinner.
Or two, I could go inside the clubhouse and leave his sub for him in case he was still hungry. Knowing him, he would be.
Sighing, I headed for the clubhouse, jerked open the door, allowed my eyes to adjust to the dim interior as I pulled my sunglasses up my face, settling them on the top of my head.
One of the prospects was sitting at the bar, watching an old movie, and another prospect was sitting at a table fiddling with his phone.
“Nola? Umm, hey,” Gavel said.
I smiled, “Umm, hey, are you okay?”
He nodded, “Yeah, but I… I thought you would have been with Xander.”
Tilting my head to the side, getting an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, I asked, “Where did Xander and the guys go?”
“They went to that Raising Money for Hope event,” Gavel said.
