Page 32 of Xander
I got them all the time from my parents.
I get them sometimes from Aunt Tempie and Uncle Merlin, but I needed more.
Instead, I went with an easier answer.
“I want you to lie on the blanket with me tonight,” I told him.
He nodded, “Do that. But that’s not what you were going to say.”
I shook my head, “It’s stupid.”
He lifted a brow, “Got a feeling you're anything but. What was it?”
“Xander,” I tried.
He shook his head, “Nah. What?”
I sighed as I took in his caramel-colored eyes and the tightness of his jaw.
Knowing that he wasn’t going to let this go.
Therefore, I said, “I could really use a good hug.”
He stood there for a beat, then two, then three, then he inhaled a breath, nodded, set his container of food and his glass of tea on the top of my car, then stepped back and held out his arms.
Now it was my turn to lift a brow, “Really?”
“I’m standing here waiting.” He said.
I took him in, then unbuckled, opened my door, stood, and then moved into his arms.
And the moment, and I mean the very moment, his arms wrapped around me, I felt safe.
Safe in a way I haven’t felt since before my parents passed away.
I breathed him in, sandalwood, mint, rustic vibes, and something spicy, completely suitable for the man I was learning that made up Xander.
And what a man he was.
Belatedly, I realized he was doing the same thing to me.
I smiled at that.
Then I nuzzled my face into his chest once, and then I released my hold on him.
His arms fell away moments later when he asked, “Did I do it right?”
My head tilted to the side as I asked, “Did you do what right?”
He swallowed once, then he locked his eyes with mine, “The hug? Never hugged anyone or been hugged. Did I do it right?”
Something in my chest cracked wide the fuck open as he slid right on inside.
Then I nodded and whispered, “You did it perfectly.”
I felt a tear trail down my cheek.
Oh... this man.
