Page 111 of The Keeper

“No. They’re scheduled to land at four-thirty.”

“Have you spoken to him since dinner with his friend the other night?”

I shook my head. “Any talking we do should be in person from now on.”

“Agreed.” She paused, regarding me closely. “Are you open to seeing where a relationship with him might go?”

“That’s a loaded question,” I grumbled, toying with my hair.

“It’s a valid question,” she asserted. “We’ve already talked at length about you not wanting to bed hop anymore. Is Xavier someone you could see yourself forming a meaningful relationship with?”

A frantic, squeezing feeling coursed through me. I’d felt something similar at his townhouse our final night together. I wasn’t lying when I’d told him he made me weak.

“He is,” I answered so quiet I could barely hear myself. “But there’s always the feelings of being inadequate and undeserving.”

“Purging yourself of those feelings will only start to happen if you allow someone to love you. And I don’t mean the platonic love you have with Killian and Max. They are wonderful friends and bring you great joy.” She leaned forward. “Pushing Xavier away won’t solve anything. Unless you want to push him away.”

Dr. Whitehall’s words echoed in my head on the drive back to stadium. My initial reason for going to see her was to talk things through about my sister. Instead, we focused on Xavier. The digital numbers on my dashboard blared the time. Only twenty minutes until the team lands.

Victoria

Knock, knock, knock.

Finally.

Killian texted me almost an hour ago to let me know he and Max would be stopping by with dinner. I’ve been fantasizing about this pasta dish all evening.

“Coming,” I called out before opening the door. “It’s about damn—“

Oh fuck me.

Xavier stood holding a bottle of scotch. Glenlivet 12 to be exact. I blinked at him like an idiot. He lifted an eyebrow and grinned which made me even more flustered.

“Expecting someone else?”

No words. Nothing. I just stared at him.

“Good thing I brought this instead of a rose.” His grin widened. “May I come in?”

Manners, Chase. Manners.

“Uh, yeah. Yes. Please.” I moved aside and motioned for him to come inside.

Xavier walked through my luxurious, but cozy, multi-million dollar high-rise condo staring at his surroundings. He stopped in the living room.

Floor-to-ceiling windows framed panoramic views of the Hudson River and Manhattan skyline. The main living space was open floor plan so the living room bled into the kitchen. The bedrooms, bathrooms, and home office were down the hall.

His quizzical expression almost made me laugh. “I had a feeling you came from money but this?”

“What?” I smirked, regaining some semblance of my ability to form sentences. “Surprised to learn I have way more money than you? And Cade? Not Bennet though. His generational wealth wins out.”

He blew out a breath. “Are you kidding me?”

“Nope. My dad was a big time hedge fund manager and made loads of money. All this,” I gestured around, “is just a fraction of it.”

Xavier’s mouth hung open a bit as he looked around. This wasn’t quite the reaction I expected. It amused me more than anything.

“So impressing you with my net worth, which is twenty million pounds by the way, won’t really do it for you then.”

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