Page 93 of Crossing the Line
“You’re not like my father, Xavier. I know you’re not.”
“It would kill me to think that I used you and then threw you away.”
“I know why we aren’t revisiting what we did. I get it.”
“You’re not disposable, Angel. Don’t ever let any man make you feel that way.”
Waverly blinked back unexpected tears at the tenderness in his voice. “You know, X? I think you’re going to be a really good dad someday.”
“You’ve been talking to my mother,” he said dryly.
“I wish. I really, really liked your family, Xavier. Be good to them.”
He covered her hand with his. “I’m sorry, Waverly.”
“About what?”
“About just about everything at this moment. I’m sorry that you had to grow up how you have. That you’re missing out on yet another shot at normal. That we aren’t revisiting what we visited—which was mind-blowing, by the way. I’m sorry that your family can’t see how lucky they are to have you and that you can’t see what an incredible woman you are because, if you really did see it, you’d never settle for anything less than what you want again.”
Waverly let her breath out in a stream. When he talked that way, it stirred things inside her. He didn’t just see an actor or a bank account or the daughter of a genetic lottery. Xavier sawher. But even that wasn’t enough. They had a complicated working relationship if she were to call it what it was.
Embarrassed by his frankness, Xavier scrubbed a hand over his head. “You put any sunscreen on yet?”
She shook her head and handed over the bottle. He gestured toward the bed and Waverly lay facedown and squashed the urge to cry at the unfairness of it all.Xavier Saint was just one more thing that she couldn’t have.
His hands smoothed lotion over her shoulders and down her back, skimming under the purple ties of her top. The way he touched her said so much more than words. Gentle and soothing now, his hands worked over her lower back in long, smooth strokes. Waverly rolled her head to the other side when his fingers nudged under the side ties of her bottoms.
Movement caught her eye on the stairwell.
“Mom!”
Waverly sat upright. Her mother peered through the railing holding her phone outstretched in one hand and a bottle in the other. Waverly jumped up, but Xavier was faster.
He pulled Sylvia carefully up the stairs and pushed her toward a chair.
“Say cheese,” she ordered Xavier with a slur so thick is sounded like an accent. “Smile pretty for the camera.”
“Stop it, Mom,” Waverly ordered.
The bottle in Sylvia’s hand was only half empty, meaning it was her second bottle of the day. She leaned hard in the chair as if her world had shifted on its axis.
Sylvia pulled the phone up to her face and hooted. “These ought to stir up some attention for your tour.” She poked at the screen with a finger that had lost its polish.
Waverly snatched the phone out of her hand. “We’ve had this discussion before. You can’t just take pictures of me!”
Sylvia snorted. “I made you, you ungrateful bitch. I’m still making you. You should be thanking me.” She lurched to her feet and Xavier stepped between them.
“You don’t need to protect me from my own mother,” Waverly snapped. She stepped around him to face Sylvia. Her mother had on rare occasions called her names. It was nothing a thousand other people hadn’t said about her.
“You’re going to drink a gallon of water, eat some soup, and go to bed and sleep this off, Mom.”
“Gimmie back my phone. I’m going to make you famous,” she said, pointing unsteadily at Xavier. “You’ll be grateful, won’t you? Not likeher. She thinks this life is aburden.” She sneered in Waverly’s direction. “Everybody wants to be famous.”
“Not everyone, Mom. Leave Xavier out of this.”
Sylvia reached for the phone and missed, scratching at Waverly’s wrist instead. “Give it back to me,” she said, angry now. “It’s mine. I won’t have you taking what’s mine!”
“You want it so bad? You want to hurt me and ruin Xavier’s reputation by spinning more lies about him? Then go get your fucking phone.” Waverly whirled and tossed the phone over the rail.
