Page 46 of Reckless Liar

“Wait, no, we can’t...” I pulled away to look down on him. I couldn’t do this, it wasn’t right, I wasn’t sure what I wanted.

Xander’s hand dropped down to his sides. Slowly I climbed off his lap, standing above him. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I got carried away.”

“Me too,” I murmured, rubbing my arms with my hands, trying to tame the goosebumps that erupted from our kiss. While my mind was telling me to back away from Xander, my body was craving his touch. I wanted to sink back into him. I wanted to devour him.

Xander leaned forward a pained expression on his face. “That was...”

Breathless, I sank back into my chair, scooting it back so I wouldn’t be tempted to climb on top of him again. “Yeah, it was.” I agreed. “Still, it was a mistake.”

He looked up at me, his eyes torrid. “Not to me.”

“It’s too soon,” I whispered. “For me, I’m not ready.”

“Too soon in general, or too soon for it to be me?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I can’t help but feel a little weird about it.”

“What is it that’s holding you back? Is it Max?” he asked. I winced at his casual use of Max’s name.

I hesitated. “Xander, it’s one thing to date some random guy, to kiss some stranger.”

He held up a hand. “I don’t want to hear about you kissing another guy.”

“But you. To do that with you...”

“You don’t think it’s right,” he offered.

“I’m messed up,” I admitted, sheepish. “I wish I weren’t. I wish I could give you what you want.”

“You’re what I want Ana.” He leaned forward folding his hands in front of him. He looked down at the floor, nodding his head as he was thinking. “But you already know that. If you said the word, I’d forget all about every other woman out there. Forget Sherie...”

“Don’t say her name,” I snapped quickly, surprising myself. I turned red at my outburst. “Sorry, I don’t want to talk about her anymore.”

“How much did it bother you?” he asked. “Seeing Sherie today? Talking to her about me?”

“More than I wanted it to,” I confessed.

“Does it hurt?” he asked. My eyes snapped up to meet his, a look of icy truth in his gaze. “Knowing that someone else might like me like that? That she might want me? That she could know me? Does it hurt?”

I nodded at him, not trusting my words at all. His tone seemed too calculating. The question too sharp to understand what he was asking.

“So how do you think I feel, having to sit back and know that someone else gets to know you? That someone else gets all of you, day after day. Can you imagine how that feels at all?”

“It’s not the same thing...” I began.

“No, you’re right Ana. It’s not. Because as nice of a girl as Sherie is, nothing serious was ever going to happen for us. You can have your fleeting moment of jealousy with her but in the end, you know, deep down, that I don’t feel that way about her.”

I sat there, transfixed as he leaned closer to me. Instinctively I moved forward until our knees touched. “I didn’t know that, though.”

He shook his head at me. “Yes, you do, Ana. Yes, you do. How I feel about Sherie… it’s nothing compared to how I feel about you. And you know that. I told you as much. But comparing yourself to how I felt...” he scrubbed a hand over his face. “You have no idea what it was like for me, Ana. You have to idea the pain of watching the person you want to be with more than anything, constantly choosing another.”

Nothing I could say would help this—I didn’t want to hear what he was saying but I couldn’t help but lean forward, needing the biting words. I never wanted this truth, but I knew I needed it. “And what’s worse, was having that person be your best friend. That person was the guy who depends on you and to develop feelings for the woman he considers his girl? Every time I looked at you, every time I thought about kissing you, I felt guilty.”

“You never told me...” I stammered.

“Of course not. When could I?” he asserted. He leaned forward taking my hands in his. I looked down at our fingers entwined. “It wouldn’t have mattered anyway, I knew that. No matter howIfelt about you and Max, I know you love him.”

“I do,” I whispered. I wanted to pull my hands away, but his touch soothed me, somehow having him near while I heard these words, having his hand against mine as I said what I needed to say, made it easier. “I did,” I corrected.

---