XANDER’S POV
I pull away from the kiss slowly, watching her face in the dim light of the park. Her eyes are still red from crying, but there’s something different there now. Something that wasn’t there before.
“Do you want to come to my apartment?” I ask, keeping my voice gentle.
She doesn’t hesitate. She nods immediately, like she’s been waiting for me to ask.
“Are you sure?” I need to know she’s not just running from what happened with that asshole.
“Yes,” she whispers. “I’m sure.”
The walk to my place is quiet, but I keep stealing glances at her. She’s stopped crying, but I can tell she’s still processing everything. Her hands are shaking slightly, and every few steps she looks at me like she can’t believe this is really happening.
I don’t blame her. A few hours ago, we barely knew each other. Now I’m taking her home after finding her broken in a park.
My apartment building isn’t fancy, but it’s decent. I unlock the door and let her go in first.
“Wow,” she says, looking around. “This is really nice.”
“Thanks.” I watch her take in the space. The living room with its dark furniture, the kitchen that’s actually clean for once, the walls covered with photography prints I’ve collected over the years.
She stops in front of one of the photos, a black and white shot of the city at night.
“Did you take this?”
“Yeah. Photography’s kind of a hobby.”
“It’s beautiful.”
I move up behind her, close enough that I can smell her shampoo. Something floral and sweet that makes me want to bury my face in her hair.
“So,” I say, wrapping my arms around her waist from behind. “About that offer I made earlier.”
She tenses slightly in my arms. “What about it?”
“Are you ready to accept it now?”
She turns around in my arms, her brown eyes searching my face. “You really meant that? About helping me with my list?”
“Every word.”
“Why?”
It’s a fair question. Why would I want to help some girl I barely know check items off her fantasy list? The truth is complicated. Part of it is the bet with the guys, but that’s not the real reason anymore. The real reason is standing in my arms, looking at me like I might actually be worth something.
“Because you deserve to experience everything you want,” I tell her. “And because that asshole tonight made you feel like shit about yourself, and I want to show you how wrong he was.”
“What if he wasn’t wrong?”
“He was.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.” I cup her face in my hands. “Trust me on this one.”
She stares at me for a long moment, then nods slowly. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I accept your offer.”
Something hot and primal shoots through me at her words. “What do you want to start with first?”
Instead of answering, she reaches up and kisses me. This time it’s different from the kiss in the park. This one is desperate, hungry, like she’s trying to erase what happened earlier by replacing it with something better.
I kiss her back just as desperately, backing her toward my bedroom. My hands find the hem of her dress, and she doesn’t stop me when I start pulling it up.
By the time we reach my bed, her dress is gone and she’s standing there in just her bra and underwear. Simple, plain underwear that somehow looks sexier on her than any lingerie I’ve ever seen.
But when I look at her face, I can see the doubt creeping in. Her arms come up to cover herself, and she looks away from me.
“Hey,” I say softly. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just…” She trails off, still not looking at me.
“Just what?”
“I keep thinking about what Miles said. About how I look. About how I’m too…” She swallows hard. “Too soft.”
The rage that fills me is instant and overwhelming. I want to find that piece of shit and make him pay for every cruel word he said to her.
“Look at me,” I say.
She shakes her head.
“Ari. Look at me.”
Reluctantly, she meets my eyes.
“He was wrong,” I tell her. “About everything.”
“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”
“I’m not lying.” I move closer, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder. “You’re beautiful.”
“Don’t,” she says, her voice barely audible.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t lie. I’m not the kind of girl guys show off. I’m not the kind of girl guys brag about being with. I’m just…” She takes a shaky breath. “I’m just me.”
I pull back so I can look at her properly. The vulnerability in her eyes, the way she’s trying so hard to be brave even though she’s falling apart inside. It does something to me that I wasn’t expecting.
“You’re right,” I say quietly.
Her face falls, like she was expecting me to argue.
“You’re not the kind of girl guys show off,” I continue. “You’re the kind of girl who deserves to be worshipped.”
Her eyes widen in surprise.
“You’re the kind of girl who deserves to have someone tell you every day how incredible you are. You’re the kind of girl who should never have to doubt her worth because the people around her make it clear how lucky they are to have you.”
“Xander…”
“You’re not just beautiful, Ari. You’re extraordinary. And any guy who can’t see that doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you.”
Before she can argue, before she can tell me I’m wrong, I lean down and capture her lips in a kiss that I hope conveys everything I can’t put into words.
She melts against me, her hands fisting in my shirt, and I know I’ve gotten through to her.
30
