Page 37 of The Penalty

“I wish you trusted me more.”

He went still. So still, I thought maybe he didn’t hear me. But then his eyes locked onto mine. They were filled with such aching and sadness it stole my breath.

“I do trust you,” he said in an uncharacteristically timid voice. “I trust you with everything I am.” He paused and looked down before continuing with, “It’s me I don’t trust.”

Vulnerability wasn’t a normal default for Xavier. He’d shown glimpses of it but this is the first time I’ve seen him deliberately strip off some of his armor.

“What don’t you trust about yourself?”

A sullen expression washed over his face.

I brushed my finger over his scar. He flinched a little but didn’t stop me. I held his face in my hands, leaned closer and kissed along the entire jagged length.

I’d done this more than a few times and I know it makes him uncomfortable, but I also know it’s his way of letting me in, letting me see beyond the cracks and imperfections he guards with such fervor.

There was a long silence before he answered. “I hurt someone.”

“When you were a teenager and got into fights?” I can’t imagine he would have hurt someone to the point of hospitalization or serious injury. Maybe a black eye? Knocked out a few teeth?

The muscle in his jaw pulsed. “No.”

I rested my hand on his thigh. My God, he was so tense. “You don’t have to tell—”

“I want to,” he cut in. “Pretending it never happened won’t do me any good.” He reached for my hand and held it to his chest. His heart raced beneath my touch. “I was reckless. Impulsive. I let my selfish needs dictate—”

The door swung open and slammed into the wall. A couple stumbled into the room, laughing and talking at the top of their lungs.

“Hey, it’s Victory Victoria.”

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

Jaxon Oliver, one of the tight ends, stood in the doorway with a girl draped on his left arm. “We’re not interrupting are we? I was looking for a place to, uh…wow, this mansion is insane.”

Any traces of Xavier’s vulnerability or timid demeanor melted away. If looks could kill, his searing glance at Jax would have sent him plummeting through the floor.

“Yeah, it’s a big house for sure.” I placed my hand back on his thigh. “But I don’t think Mr. Caldwell wants everyone roaming through it.”

He did the finger point thing at me with both hands. “Special treatment for the media queen. I won’t tell him I saw you in here with, uh, well, whoever that is.”

The muscles in Xavier’s thigh turned to stone.

Oh shit.

I squeezed it, gave him a look, and turned to Jax. “This is Xavier Maddox. His soccer team is hosting us in London this fall. Royal City Athletic. You were at their game in April against the Knights.”

“Aw, dude, right. Sorry. Totally recognize you. The guys and I were just doing a shitload of shots and—” his date elbowed him in the side “—ow. Soccer. Good sport. Lots of kicking. You should come be the punter for us.”

“That’s enough, Jaxon,” the young woman exclaimed, appearing mortified. She mouthed an apology, led him out, and closed the door.

Stunned silence spread around us for a minute. And then we spoke at once.

“I don’t even know what to say.”

“Who the fuck was that.”

Caught between wanting to laugh and hoping the floor would swallow me whole, I rested my head on Xavier’s chest.

“That was Jax. He’s—”

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