Page 38 of The Penalty

“An absolute git.” His tone dripped with indignation.

I looked up at him. “In his defense, he’s taken quite a few hits to the head.”

No reaction.

Cool.

My half-hearted attempt at lifting the mood fell flat.

“Is anyone else from your team going to interrupt us tonight?”

“Hopefully not.”

“Victory Victoria? How many brain cells did he sacrifice for that gem?”

“Feel better now?” I laughed in spite of his dour expression. “Or is there—”

“Be the punter?” He sounded offended. “I’ll have him know I could kick that egg shaped ball farther than—”

“You know what?” I clamped my hand over his mouth. “As fun as it would be to listen to sixteen-year-old Xavier whine about an encounter with a drunk football player, I’d like thirty-six-year-old Xavier to come back.”

His sapphire eyes narrowed as he gazed at me. I held his stare, and kept my hand firmly planted over his mouth.

Just when I thought we’d sit like this for the rest of the night, he grabbed my waist, lifted me up, and put me on top of the piano. Much to my surprise, he hopped up next to me. We sat quietly, legs swinging, for several long minutes.

I stole a few quick glances at him. His whole demeanor was guarded. Not in a standoffish way. He just seemed…pensive? Maybe that was it.

I had a feeling we’d have to pick up our conversation another time.

Disappointing, since he really seemed to be opening up to me about something significant from his past. So many questions were poised and ready at the tip of my tongue.

But again, I had to find the balance.

“Where would you like to go?” he asked quietly.

“What do you mean?”

He laced his fingers with mine. “On our getaway. Do you have a specific place in mind?”

My default response was always not really when Killian and I would plan our little friend-cations. We’d usually end up somewhere on Nantucket at a cute hotel with great food and beautiful views.

But this wasn’t a friend-cation with Killian. This was a weekend alone with Xavier. No interruptions. No distractions. No drunk tight ends barging in on delicate conversations.

“Honestly, just somewhere secluded and quiet and cozy and—” I paused. “What’s that look for?”

One shoulder lifted in an elegant shrug. “You continue to surprise me, city princess. I’ll handle all the plans. Just be ready to go when I give the word.”

“Glad to see your little bossy side hasn’t left the party.”

He leaned in, hovering his mouth over mine. “You know you like it.” His kiss was so soft and sweet it made my pulse race and heart jump. “We can finish our talk then, okay?” He brushed his lips on mine. “And bolt the door shut.”

“Pretty good suggestion for a prepackaged snack with empty calories.”

This time when he kissed me it was harder, more demanding. I tugged on his hair, my tongue tangling with his. Slowly, he started to relax in my arms. The tension in his muscles loosened with every firm, possessive movement of his mouth.

I breathed him in, cupping my hand behind his neck. A low moan vibrated through him when he broke our kiss. He stared at me, his eyes caressing every inch of me, memorizing every detail.

“I want to tell you everything,” he whispered before fusing our mouths together again.

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