Page 52 of Reckless Liar

He gave me a small smile. “Friendly acquaintances?” he quipped.

“That works.”

Xander was home already as I pulled in next to his truck. I considered sitting in my car and listening to another episode of my favorite true crime podcast instead of going in the house.

Never before had I turned a man down while I was single. I didn’t count the slight flirtations from other men when I was dating Max. Having a boyfriend made me impervious to guilt in saying no. But now? This was different. I’d become my own person, completely in charge of my romantic choices.

I realized I’d developed a sick sense of satisfaction from being the scorned girl. For so long I was so innocent with the big, bad Max Constantine corrupting my poor, fragile mind. He was Lieutenant Wickham to my Georgiana Darcy. It would be so much simpler if I was a victim of all this pain.

I didn’t regret one minute I spent with Max. But after reading those letters I found in his clothes, I realized I could begin to let him go—I can yell, I can scream, I can cry. Then, I can know that I loved him.

I used to wonder how Max could be so callous to hurt me that way. He let me believe I was the only one who could love him. I now understood how easy it is to break another person.

I could see it in Xander—patient, sweet Xander. I knew he wanted me. He told me he loved me. I wasn’t sure what’d be worse: pushing him away to spare him further pain or giving it a shot when I wasn’t sure I was ready.

I knew how much it hurt to give yourself to another person. It’s the raw vulnerability of losing yourself. Now I knew how it felt to receive it, to look at another person and thinkI don’t deserve this kindness from you, this devotion. I’m not worth it.And that felt so much worse. It’s one thing to be the victim, but there’s a new level of anguish when you become the villain.

Xander gave me permission to choose where this relationship was going to go, and I was afraid I was going to choose wrong. Every day the chasm in my chest felt deeper when I looked at Xander.

Eventually, I got out of my car and made my way into the apartment. As I rounded the corner into the living room, Xander looked up from his phone to me. He set his phone down next to him and studied me as I set my purse down. I could hear him getting up off the couch and walking up to me.

“How was your date?” he asked, standing behind me.

I turned to face him as I struggled with the zipper on my jacket. “It wasn’t a date.”

“Meeting a guy by yourself for coffee to talk about your relationship? Sounds like a date to me,” he sneered.

I ripped the zipper down and tugged my jacket off forcibly, instead of hanging it up the way I normally would I twisted it into a ball. “Don’t be a jealous asshole right now, please. You’re not that guy.”

“You’d be surprised.” He took a step closer to me, took my jacket from my hand, smoothing it out and hanging it on the hook. “There might be a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please, Xander. Don’t do this. I’m feeling bad enough about Troy right now, without you giving me a guilt trip over whatever this is.”

“Whatever this is?” he asked. He placed a hand on the wall above my head and looked down at me. “So, you still don’t know what to call it?”

I looked up at him, meeting his eyes. “You know I don’t. You know I’m still confused...”

“No, you’re not. You know how you feel. You aren’t ready to admit it yet,” he assured me, stepping closer until his foot was between mine and my back was against the wall.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Breathless from his heat, I looked away. “Wherever this conversation is going, we can’t do this right after I broke it off with Troy.”

“That’s a bullshit excuse. It was one date. He was never a boyfriend. You’re looking for whatever excuse you can come up with, so you don’t have to make a choice. You need to decide what you want us to be. What do you want from me? Am I your friend...” He stepped closer, putting the other hand on the other side of me, bracketing me in between his arms. He dipped his head lower, his lips inches from mine. “Or am I more?”

I fought against the urge telling me that every kiss with Xander would make it more difficult to make a reasonable decision. When I was away from him, I could rationalize it. But here, in these moments where his body was so close to mine, where his gaze fixed on me, I wanted to surrender to him. Before I could think better of it, I stood on my toes and pressed my lips to his.

He pushed against me, pinning me against the wall. His fingers threaded through my hair, pulling my face to his. Gripping my hip, he brought my torso flush to his hips. His tongue traced my lips, and I opened my mouth to meet his. Grabbing the bottom of my shirt, he pulled it up, holding it tight to my lower back. I lowered my hands, pulling his shirt up, urging him to take it off. He pulled away long enough to rip his T-shirt off before his lips came crashing back down on mine. With only my thin T-shirt between us, I could feel his heart beating, the steady thrum of what we were doing.

His hands came up my back, his thumbs resting right below where my bra stopped. Breaking our kiss, I pulled my hands away to grab my shirt and pull it over my head. His eyes were glassy with lust and lingered over my body, his hands moving over my bare skin. His fingers slid across my stomach, tracing lines up over the swell of my breasts. His fingers dipped into my bra and brushed against my nipple. I gasped at the contact; he watched his hands as they explored further. My skin felt tight and hot from his touch.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered. He looked up and our eyes met. He cupped my cheeks, pulling my face closer to his. He didn’t kiss me. Instead, his eyes bore into me. “I want you so much, Ana.”

“I want you too,” I whispered back. Locked in his gaze, I couldn’t be anything but honest.

He pulled away from me and dropped his hands. “I’m sure I’m going to regret this.” He scrubbed his hand over his face as he took a step back. His hands shook as he slowly opened his eyes to meet mine. My breath hitched as the ominous tone began to sink in. “But we can’t do this right now. I want you. You have no idea how much I want you. But we can’t...”

I nodded at him as I bent down to grab my shirt off the floor, clutching it in front of me. “I get it,” I whispered.

“No, you don’t.” He took a few deep breaths to compose himself before stepping closer to me, catching my eyes. “When we do this, I want all of you. You understand? When we make love—and that is exactly what it will be—there is no going back from that.”

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