Page 65 of Reckless Liar

I rolled over to my back, struck by the thought.Next time.Did I want a next time? I ran a finger over my lips, still tasting him on my skin. I couldn’t doubt the way I felt any longer. There were so many things that tried to break me recently. Being with Xander was a balm for my pain. I couldn’t stop if I wanted to.

I glanced over at Xander’s sleeping face. I thought of the first night we spent in the apartment, and how I studied him as we lay sleeping. I was struck with how I felt by just looking at him. Even if I didn’t want to admit it, I was losing myself in him. I turned to my other side and faced him completely. He didn’t stir, but his hand slid against my body as I moved. Slowly, I brushed an unruly curl from his forehead.

The feeling washing over me was different from anything I’d ever experienced with Max. I thought I loved Max. For so long I thought Max loved me. But lying next to Xander I realized how little I understood about love.

In the end, I never knew Max. And how could I love a man I never knew? When you don’t have all your heart to give, can you say it’s real? Max never knew me. He knew what I wanted him to know. I tried so hard, for so many years, to be the kind of woman he could love. I’d stuff down parts of myself and try to erase the parts of me he wouldn’t like. I tried to become the woman I thought he could love. By doing that, I was as culpable as he was. How could I say Max and I loved each other if we never truly knew each other?

I laid my hand on Xander’s cheek, feeling his skin soft under my fingertips. My chest hurt from the contact; my breath caught in my throat. His eyelids were bleached lilac in the morning sun. His eyelashes were white-blond at the eye line, curling to a russet brown at the tips. I could feel the tears threatening my eyes, so I closed them, willing myself to regain composure.

I took a deep breath and counted to three as I let it out.

I took another breath, counted to three.

I took another breath, counted to three.

Slowly, I opened my eyes. Xander was looking back at me. I gasped, surprised. I wanted to say something, but his gaze held me transfixed. His lips parted slightly. I thought of what those lips did to me last night, and warmth flowed through me. He brought his hand up, gently brushing my hair from my face.

When Xander looked at me like that, it was as if I truly was the person he claimed to love. I wanted to be that woman. His trust in me made me want to be more. If only the woman he saw was real, if only I could measure up. The thought felt like a weight bearing down on my chest. If he truly knew me, he wouldn’t be staring at me with such adoration. I didn’t deserve someone so emphatically good.

“Why are you sad?” he murmured, a line forming between his brows.

“I’m not,” I sighed. “I’m so happy.”

I wasn’t lying, I was happy. But every breath of happiness was tinged with an unyielding truth. How long until this fell apart and Xander realized I wasn’t the girl he thought he knew? How much longer until I screwed it up? Because, if I was the taker in this relationship, if I was Xander’s Max, I knew it was only a matter of time.

A slow smile spread across his face as he stared at me. “Me too.” He leaned forward to press a kiss to my lips. “I never thought I’d have this. I never thought I’d get to wake up with you in my arms. I never thought I’d have you.”

There were no words to say. I wanted to tell him everything. I wanted to stay here with him all day, savoring this night in our consecrated bed and the down of his hair.

“Before I forget,” he murmured into my hair. “Happy Birthday.”

I smiled into his skin. “Thanks.”

He nuzzled into my neck, his words at my throat. “Can I give you your present now?”

“You didn’t have to get me anything.” I pulled away to look up at him.

“But I already got it.” He sat up, reaching behind him into this nightstand to pull out an envelope. He handed it to me with a hopeful look on his face.

I sat up next to him and opened the envelope, pulling out the papers inside to study them. “You got me admission to the Lisandre exhibit?”

He gave me a small smile, still nervous. “Is that okay? I was thinking about how much you loved that painting in the living room and so I looked up the name of the artist. She’s coming to town in November. We could go to Seattle and make a whole day of it.”

Throwing my arms around his neck, I hugged him. He wrapped his arms around my waist bringing me closer. “I love it. This has to be the best gift I’ve ever received.”

I left out all the things I was thinking; that in all the years I was with Max he never took the time to get me something this personal. He didn’t like art and couldn’t understand my interest in it. Xander didn’t spend too much money on the tickets, but the idea of him taking so many steps—looking up the artist’s name, finding her on the Internet, and finding an upcoming show—the thought and planning that went into it made me wistful.

I leaned forward pressing myself against him. My hands ran through his hair, I kissed him without abandon, eagerly chasing away all my doubts. He grabbed my waist; his fingers were tender against my skin as he rolled on top of me. Our kisses were fevered, and my hands pulled him closer, wanting more.

Guiltily, I accepted his touches, taking in his adoration. I knew I’d regret it if this fell apart, but I craved his embrace, his kisses, his lips in my hair, the way he held me so tight. I felt as if we were falling together, down into a frightening abyss.

We made love and I laid my head on his bare chest as he stroked my hair. I ran a finger over a large scar below his left rib. The second time was even better than the first. We fit together perfectly. He knew how to touch me, how to kiss my skin, when to pull away and when to delve deeper. I’d only been with one other person in comparison. I was pretty sure life couldn’t get better than these moments of passion we shared.

I pulled away to look up at him. His hand was behind his head, and he was watching my hand move along his scar.

“I fell off a longboard and scraped up my whole left side. Max dared me to go down Route 203,” he explained.

“Where did you get a longboard?”

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