Page 49 of Pick Six
“You look nice in this.”
She gives me a doubtful look, and I lean down, giving her a playful grin.
“I mean don’t get me wrong. You look better out of it, wearing one of my T-shirts, sitting on my counter and—”
“Alex!” She glares for a moment, her eyes darting to the door.
“I wouldn’t worry. I’m already here so I can’t walk in on you talking about me again.”
“I wasn’t talking about you.” She rolls her eyes.
“No? Who were you talking about then?”
She hesitates, and we both know she’s coming up with a lie.
“The guy I was seeing before this.”
“You wanted to fuck him that badly and you gave it up to help me?”
“Yes. So now you know how much you owe me.”
“Or how much you must want me.”
“Do you hear yourself when you talk or is it just a dull buzz of feedback?”
“No, Saint, but I heard you last night stuttering and gasping while you came for me.” I run my eyes over her at the memory, smirking at the shocked look on her face. “And that was after you woke me up in the middle of the night because you needed me. So, you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t buy your lie.”
“You’re lucky you brought me coffee.” She glares at me as she takes another sip.
A coupleof hours later and we’re at the dinner table. Saint has managed to weather the first-time meeting, get through cocktail hour and well into the meal with a smile plastered on her face. She and my mother have even managed to find some things in common, which makes me feel like I’m torturing her a little less. Except now my father is on one of his usual tears about my career, politics, bad decisions, and everything else that gets him riled enough that he feels he needs to pontificate on it whenever I actually come to the house—an event I avoid whenever possible. I’d hoped she’d be a bit of a buffer for that, but apparently, since she’s a girlfriend he’s decided to baptize her by fire into our family-dinner-night ritual.
“Yes well, you could just retire and start a real career. One that makes a difference. But I know you’re too stubborn for that.” He needles me like he always does, but I’m determined not to take the bait in front of her, so I just smile and nod.
“The potatoes are even better than usual, Mom.” I turn my attention to her because she’s the one bright spot when I have to endure this dinner table circus.
“Thank you, honey. I put a little extra butter in them.”
“It’s lovely, Mrs. Xavier. Thank you so much for having me over to your home.” Harper smiles brightly at my mom and she returns it. This is one of the many places Harper shines. She was the perfect wife to Drew, even with a difficult mother-in-law, and she knows how to handle family gatherings like a pro. I’d watched her run arduous holiday dinners with ease more than once.
“You’re welcome, Harper. It’s lovely to finally have you over and meet you.” My mom gives her a once over and then flicks an approving look at me, a modest grin appearing in it’s wake.
“Yes. Maybe you can help me convince him to quit. Now that you’re not married to Drew with a vested interest in Xander’s paychecks over better sense.”
“Dad…” I grit out a title he doesn’t deserve as my eyes meet his in warning.
“I think he should do whatever he loves. I have no idea how well he might do with politics, but the way he plays football… I mean have you seen his stats lately? Or heard any of the sportscasters talk about him? They can’t say enough good things. A lot of them are saying this will be his best year yet. That between this defense and the offensive trio, they’re headed for the Super Bowl. So it’s a little strange to hear you say you want him to leave it. I know family can sometimes be the hardest on us, but given that many of your donors and friends also love seeing him play… I’m just surprised you don’t have more positive things to say yourself. I’d have to imagine most men would kill to have a son as talented as he is. I hope you’re not blind to how amazing your son is just because his talents lie outside of politics. It would be a shame to miss it when he’s at the height of a career most players—well really most men—dream of.”
I think my heart has stopped in my chest.
I’m positive my dad’s has given, the way his face is subtly contorting as he looks at her. It’s the most motion I’ve seen out of it in years.
I look back at her and she’s gleaming—a bright smile painted on as if nothing she said was offensive or out of the ordinary. Like she was just doling out helpful advice to a friend.
I watch my mother’s eyebrow raise and lower quickly, a flit of an amused smirk dancing over her face before she tucks it away again.
“I’ve been accused of a lot of things. But blind to my own son has never been one of them,” he answers her, unchecked disdain rife in his tone.
“That’s interesting. It’s so obvious. But I’d guess a lot of people are intimidated by you. You and your son have that in common. Fortunately, the Xavier men don’t scare me as much as they do some others.”
