Page 67 of Reckless Liar

I hesitated before admitting. “Even if Max was exactly like that, I doubt he’d be happy with us being together.”

Xander laughed, shaking his head. “I know he wouldn’t. But it’s the truth. Sometimes we don’t see ourselves clearly. To be honest, I understood Max better than he understood himself.” He paused, tilted his head to the side slightly, his face growing more serious. “You, too. I understand exactly who you are, better than you realize.”

I scoffed loudly. I didn’t want him to see how much those words rocked me. “And what about me, Xan? If we’re going down the road, then who do I know best?”

“Me,” he said plainly, his face open. “You know me, Ana. You may have spent a long time trying to fight it. But we get each other, more than you want to admit.”

I bit my lip; his earnest tone made my chest hurt. I understood everything he wasn’t saying. He was right, we did get each other. Max never really knew me. He never wanted to, and I never wanted to know the real him either. Our relationship was built on the falsehoods of what we both thought the other wanted us to be.

Xander did know me. He understood me at my core, and I understood him. It’d always been that way. I may have been infatuated with Max, but Xander was the one I needed. He was the first one I wanted to confide in, the first one I wanted to tell about my day.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, the cold air ached through my ribs. I knew I should be horrified by his revelations about his guilt, but I couldn’t be. He was showing me the darkest parts of himself. He was telling me that he understood the gruesome, dark place inside me, that he felt it too. If we were going to hell for what was happening between us, we’d go together. I crawled across the bed and climbed on top of Xander. I had no words to give him. The only thing I could offer was my embrace. I hoped he understood.

Chapter twenty-five

“That's weird, I paid the bill last week.” -Max when the power was shut off

InthewakeofNew Year’s, Xander and I found ourselves spending every free moment together. After that first night, I invited him to stay in my room with me. After that, his bed became extraneous. When we weren’t in bed together, we were watching TV, my feet tucked under his legs, his hand on my knee. We shopped and made all of our food together. In a way nothing had changed. It was amazing how little of our routine had shifted, yet everything felt headier and more intense. While cooking, he’d sneak behind me, his hands on my hips and kiss my neck, as he pinned me to the counter, and I’d melt into his body. In the middle of the night, his leg would wedge between mine, and he’d throw his slack arm across my waist. We’d find ourselves sleepily turning to each other to make love.

Soon though, I learned that the glow of my newfound happiness couldn’t take away the sting of a truly bad day. Everything seemed to go wrong. I forgot my lunch at home, forcing me to get the soggy, sodium-ridden cafeteria food. I spilled coffee on my scrubs and had no replacement pants in my locker. I was stuck with Dr. Larson, the most patronizing doctor on the floor. I kept walking away from my desk only to forget a crucial item: the clipboard, the medication, my coffee mug. And final insult to injury, I dropped my phone in the toilet, completely ruining a new smartphone.

By the time I got home from work I was completely done with humanity. All I wanted was to go home, shower, and watch a corny comedy on TV in my pajamas.

I’d barely walked through the door when Xander greeted me, wearing a light blue button-down and a pair of khakis. My jacket was dangling off my shoulder as I stopped to stare at him.

“Hey,” I said carefully. He never dressed up like this. It was weird.

He looked a little embarrassed. “I was thinking maybe I could take you out to dinner?”

“Oh, well... I’ve had a long day and...” I groaned loudly, rubbing my forehead with my stubby nails. I paused, trying to find the words. I knew he was only trying to be sweet by taking me out. There was no way he could’ve known what a hard day I had and how I’d be feeling. If I was a less anxious person something like that would be wonderful to come home to. But I was me. I couldn’t help feeling the way I did. “I’m not feeling it tonight.”

He wrapped his arms around me, and I ducked my head into his chest, taking a deep breath of the sweet smell of soap and sunshine always lingering on his skin. His fingers drew little circles on my back, and I pulled away to press a kiss to his lips. This was new too—kissing when we came home. We hadn’t ventured out of the home yet. We hadn’t had the conversation about what we’d be to each other outside our apartment walls.

He rubbed my cheek with his thumb, smiling big. “I made reservations at that Thai place you like.”

I pulled away from him. I hated to be a spoilsport, but I was so tired and the idea of a restaurant with other people exhausted me further.

“Well, let me shower and see how I...”

Walking into the kitchen to grab a drink of water, I turned the corner and stopped short at the sight before me. “What happened?” I gasped. In addition to all the dishes in the sink I’d asked him to wash, there were several food-encrusted pans sitting on the stove. An opened jar of peanut butter sat on the cutting board next to a dirty knife. Coffee creamer sat next to the coffee maker, its lid still gaping wide.

Xander stood behind me and I could feel him tense. “Oh, right. The dishes...” he trailed off.

“Well, I’m not going anywhere now,” I muttered, irritated. I stomped over to the counter picking up all the dirty dishes and tossing them into the sink, the slam of the glasses and silverware against each other reverberating through the small kitchen.

“I can do those. I’ll clean everything up when we get back,” Xander interrupted, taking a plate from my hand and setting it on the counter behind me. I picked up the plate, and placed it on top of the other dishes, turning the water on and adding soap. I began to furiously wash the dishes. I didn’t trust myself to look at him and betray how annoyed I was.

“No, they need to be done now.” I knew it was petty to be upset about dishes in the sink, but he knew I liked things clean. It was more than that. I couldn’t relax when things were like this left around the house.

He bumped me lightly on the hip, pushing me away from the sink. “Why don’t you take a shower? You’ll feel better.”

“Are you going to clean up this kitchen?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

He looked around, frowning. “I could start, I guess.”

“I’ll do it.” I huffed loudly turning back to the dirty dishes. I scrubbed the dried egg off the pan, pushing hard on the bristled sponge, trying to release my frustration onto the baked-on food.

I didn’t want Xander to see me this way. I didn’t want to feel this way. I wished he’d leave so I could fume in peace.

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