Page 117 of Five Summers

For the past two hours, I’ve been sitting in my assigned room, simply wasting time. I can’t bring myself to go out there and face him. But it’s my job. It’s what I’m being paid to do. It’s the very reason why I’m here in the first place. Once this job is over, then I’ll never have to see him again. I’ll have my house and the freedom I’ve longed for since moving out of my mother’s house all those years ago.

I hop off the bed, grab my phone, and slide it into my pocket. As I walk down the corridor, I hear music coming from the other side of the door. The guitar stops playing for a bit and then starts again.

I open the door and suddenly freeze.

There, sitting on the edge of the lounge, is Xander. A notebook is open beside him, a pencil tucked behind his ear, as he plucks the strings of my father’s guitar. The sight brings forth a flood of emotions. Not just because of my father, but also because Xander has kept his guitar all this time. Despite his fame and wealth, he still treasures that one symbol of our past.

I swallow hard, trying to push down the painful lump in my throat as I stand there, watching him. He strums a few chords, then pulls the pencil from behind his ear and scribbles in the notepad. With him momentarily distracted, I take the opportunity to study him, something I haven’t had a chance to do since I’ve seen him. I check out his strong jawline and how his hair falls into his eyes. He’s no longer the boy I remember, but a man, edgier and undeniably more attractive. I can’t help but check out the muscles in his arms as he reaches for the bottle of Jack on the table in front. He tilts his head back and takes a long swig before putting the bottle on the table with a loud thud. Then, he focuses on the guitar. This time around, he's singing. I shiver as I hear his sultry voice, memories flooding back to all the times he serenaded me.

Every time my mind wanders,

it always brings me back to you,

But as I can see,

you long forgot about me.

The moment I enter the room, he looks up.

As I come closer, I can feel Xander watching me as I search for coffee. I make a point to not make eye contact with him, instead choosing to focus on anything else in the room. Where the hell is that hostess who was here earlier when I got on the plane?

“What are you looking for, Princess?” Xander asks.

Closing my eyes, I remember how that word sounded on his lips all those years ago. Initially, I despised that name because of its implications, but as time went by, I grew to adore the seductive and playful tone with which he used to say it.

I shove those memories aside, throw up my walls, and turn to face him.

“Coffee. I need coffee.”

Without saying a word, he grabs the phone on the cupboard next to him. He pushes a button and puts the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Theo. You guys finished yet, it’s been two hours.” After a momentary pause, a grin spreads across his face.

I used to love that smile, with how it lit up his face.

“Alright,” he says, looking up at me. “Yeah, coffee. Cream and one sugar.” He raises an eyebrow in my direction, and I give a nod, surprised that he still remembers my coffee preference.

He hangs up the phone and focuses on his guitar. “You might wanna grab a seat. They said she wouldn’t be too long, but you never know with Theo.” He casually plucks a string on the guitar.

“I’m surprised you’ve still got it,” I state, sitting on the couch opposite him.

He glances up and when his brows furrow, I point to the guitar.

"Yeah, I couldn't bear to part with it," he says, shifting his focus back to the guitar.

No, but you could leave me pregnant and heartbroken.

The silence between us grows more awkward by the second. I shift in my chair, wondering if he’s annoyed that I’m on the plane, given our history. I wonder if it’s because I remind him of the girls he used and discarded as if we were nothing. I'm not that naive girl anymore. His looks, charm, voice, or words won't fool me. So what if he's Xander fucking Williams, the rock god of today? I'll never fall for his manipulative charms again.

Bored, I strum my fingers on my lap, contemplating whether I should say something or just get up and walk away. As I am contemplating my next move, he breaks the silence.

“Mind if I ask you something?” he asks, not bothering to lift his gaze from his guitar.

"Yeah, I guess," I say, not sure where this conversation is headed.

“Are you and your son's dad still a thing?” He lifts his gaze and locks eyes with me.

What the actual fuck? Is he serious right now? Why is he asking me this? Does he still think I'm some easy girl who'll just sleep with him because I'm here for the next eight weeks?

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