It’s some sort of romantic Christmas comedy that’s on, but I can’t fully pay attention. Xavier has been rubbing circles on my stomach since he wrapped his arm around my belly. He started it a few minutes after we got comfortable, and it’s been a consistent motion since. My stomach has been clenching as warmth slowly builds between my legs.
When the movie is over, I jump out of his lap, saying goodnight to his parents before I quickly make my way to our room. I just need a cold shower before bed. Xavier is keeping pace with me as we walk back to our space. I glare in his direction as he moves down the hall with such nonchalance, while I’m low-key trying not to breathe heavily from the exertion of energy it’s taking to get into the bedroom quicker.
Xavier beats me to the door and opens it for me to go in. “You and your incessant need to always open my freaking door,” I mutter as I move past him. I grab my pajamas before I beeline for the bathroom. “I’m just going to shower and get ready for bed.” I close the door, flipping the lock before resting my back against it as I take a couple deep breaths. When I open my eyes again, I’m a bit calmer, but there’s still an undercurrent of need that’s pulling in my groin. I toss my pajamas on the counter before grabbing a towel from the cabinet. I grab my toothbrush and put toothpaste on it, shoving the toothbrush into my mouth as I start aggressively brushing my teeth. My reflection only confirms the growing flush crawling along my skin. I begin to think of the way Xavier growled in my ear as he told me to stop squirming. Ashiver runs down my spine. I bend over and spit in the sink, rinsing off my toothbrush and putting it away. I turn the shower on and strip out of my clothes.
Stepping into the cold shower stream, I hiss as the cold water shocks my system. “Motherfucker, that’s cold.” I mumble as I quickly rinse my body down, effectively using the heat that has slowly been burning me up all evening. Grabbing the knob, I turn up the heat, and I grab the shampoo to begin the process of washing my hair.
Ten minutes later, I’m stepping out of the shower, toweling off before beginning my nighttime routine. Do I go through the motions a bit slower than normal? Perhaps.
I take one last look at myself in the mirror, breathing deeply before I head for the door. I step through to see Xavier laying on his side of the bed. his back on the mattress and his hands behind his head as he stares up at the ceiling. He looks deep in thought, but as soon as I start walking to the bed, he’s turning his head in my direction, watching me.
“How was your shower?” He keeps his tone casual, but there seems to be a hint of amusement in his question.
“It was exactly what I needed. I’m beat though so I can’t wait to crawl into these sheets.” As I go to grab the sheets to pull them back, they’re already on the move. Xavier had already flung the blankets over so all I’d have to do is crawl in. I give him a quick smile as I adjust the pillows to where I want them. Two pillows on my side, so I have a pillow to hug. One pillow goes underneath my knee.
However, I find myself copying his posture and laying on my back as well. There’s a moment of silence before either of us speaks.
“Goodnight, Harps.”
“Goodnight, Xavier.”
As soon as I respond, he leans toward the nightstand and turns off the light, blanketing us both in darkness.
ChapterTwenty
Harper
XavierandIhavequickly developed our own routine. He goes for his morning workout while I’m working. He checks in around lunch time, when he brings me something to eat, and we sit and chat. He sometimes spends the afternoon in the office with me, just doing some check-in calls or sending emails for the clinic, while I continue on my work day. If I have any video meetings, he leaves me alone. To be honest? It’s been nice.
The evenings are always different. We don’t always gather for dinner, but when everyone does, it’s slightly tense. I can usually ignore both the daggers that Chloe sends my way, and the way Dalton looks at me, almost as if he wants to say something. He’s tried to talk to me alone a few times. After the second attempt, Xavier hasn’t left my side very often in hopes of discouraging him from approaching me. I have nothing to say to Dalton, so I don’t understand why he’s trying to get me alone to talk.
When there isn’t a family dinner, I find myself having a girl dinner. Xavier has taken note of that, and sometimes has a plate made up with all my favorite healthy snack foods. I usually take those with me and sit in the hot tub with an audiobook in my ears to relax.
It’s Friday night, and Xavier and I have made plans to watch a movie followed by playing card games. It’s not the most thrilling night to most people, I'm sure. But I would choose these nights over one out at the bar any day.
Speaking of going out and partying, it seems to be like all that Chloe and Dalton do. They have gone out almost every night. I’m not complainingbecause the less run-ins with Chloe, the better. There are still two weeks of our vacation, so anything can happen. The optimistic side of me hopes that everything will work out, and we will be able to coexist. But the cynical part of me just laughs in my face.
I’m in the kitchen looking for some popcorn or some type of snacks for the movie. I was able to find some popcorn kernels, so therehasto be a popcorn maker here somewhere. There is a pantry door I haven’t tried yet, so I head in there.
Bingo.
This room has all the extra appliances, ready to be grabbed and used. I do a quick scan, spotting the popcorn maker on a shelf at the back of the room. As I make my way over there, I feel a presence behind me. The back of my neck prickles, and instantly I become a bit uneasy. I grab the appliance and turn around. There, standing in the frame of the door, is Dalton.
Fucking great.
I sigh heavily. “What do you want, Dalton?”
His mouth thins for a minute, as if he’s pondering what he wants to say. “I just–I wanted to talk to you. I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while.”
“Have you ever thought that I don’t want to talk to you, Dalton?” I bite back, not policing my tone. Walking toward the door, I am forced to stop a few feet in front of him. “Can you move, please?”
You’d think I’d kicked his puppy based on the look he gives me before stepping back. I move past him quickly before getting to the counter where I have everything set out. I plug the machine in and turn it on. The machine roars to life, and I begin to dump the kernels, watching them disappear from sight. Familiar popping fills the kitchen, and as I place a bowl in front of the popcorn machine, Dalton lingers.
“Harps.”
“Don’t call me Harps. You lost that privilege when you broke me.”
Devastation rolls over him, followed closely by defeat, as my words clearly resonate. “I’m sorry. Harper, if you can just give me a couple minutes to talk to you.”
