Page 47 of Crossing the Line
Yet the creeping fear that she knew she should feel hadn’t made itself known. He wouldn’t get to her. Xavier wouldn’t let him and she knew that. When he’d burst in through the door, the look of relief and worry and need on his face told her he cared. And not because he was paid to. And not because she was a Sinner. He cared about her, and he would protect her.
Xavier returned, a grim look on his face. Waverly picked up his plate and popped it in the microwave. He’d been working on the same helping for forty-five minutes, and it was beyond cold.
He told them his team had finally hit pay dirt with a neighbor’s home security system and got footage of Ganim getting into a car. They got a solid description of the car and a partial plate.
“It’s a place to start,” he said grimly.
“Then why do you look like you just knocked down someone’s grandma?” Waverly asked.
“It’s not enough. We need to find this guy, and we need to get the cops to move on him. Until we get him, you’re going to be in a virtual prison because I can’t just let you walk out that door.”
Waverly rubbed her hands over her face. The microwave dinged and she brought his plate back to him.
“Please don’t fight me on this,” Xavier said quietly. “You either, Kate. From now on, security takes you to and from here. And it would be better if you could stay here for a few days, at least until the premiere.”
“I guess we can have Padma come here,” Waverly said, thinking of her dress designer who was going to freak when Waverly told her she couldn’t wear that dress now. She thought of the picture and shuddered.
“We could probably pull in a trainer from the gym, or we could go old-school and dig out those Jillian Michaels DVDs your mom has squirreled away. Oh, and I can reschedule your meeting with the publicist.” Kate suggested.
“Ugh, Media Barbie. I forgot about her,” Waverly groaned. Her mother’s publicist Gwendolyn—never, ever Gwen—was fanatical about media relations and press junkets and press statements. “Just move the meeting here. Otherwise my mother will sic her on me when I’m not prepared, and she’ll lecture me on eyebrow grooming again.”
Kate snorted and dumped her plate in the sink. “So listen, X-Man. Since I’ll be Wave’s new roommate, do you have any hot security guys who want to follow me home so I can pack some stuff?”
“I don’t know where they fall on the hot scale, but yes, I’ve got one waiting outside for you. Take the Tahoe,” Xavier told her, handing over the keys.
“Woo! Air-conditioned seats for my ass. I’ll be back in an hour unless the guard is really hot.” Kate winked and pranced out.
Xavier finally got to finish his meal and leaned back in his chair. He looked tired and angry. Waverly cleared the table.
“Hey. In my family, you cook you don’t clean,” Xavier insisted. He joined her in the kitchen, opening the dishwasher and loading in the plates. “It was really good, by the way.”
Waverly gave him a tired smile. “Thanks. I’ll tell Mari you approve.”
He rummaged under the sink for the detergent and started the washer. “Is it shitty of me to say that I’m surprised to see you cooking and cleaning up?”
“Yes, yes it is,” Waverly laughed. She led the way into the living room where they both sank down on the couch. She pulled her feet under her and hugged a pillow to her chest. “I don’t like having a lot of extra people around in my personal space.”
“You’re the toilet scrubbing kind of Hollywood princess?”
Waverly snorted. “I wouldn’t go that far. A very discreet housekeeping service comes in once a week when I’m at the gym, which I’m sure you already knew.”
“It’s good to know that you’re not too human,” he teased.
They fell silent for a moment.
“I need you to not worry, Angel. I’m going to take care of this. I’m going to take care of you.” Xavier’s voice was firm.
“I know you will, Xavier.”
“Then why do you look so worried?” Xavier’s hand rested on the cushion between them. It felt like an invitation to touch him. She scooted her foot toward him, and he took it in his hand.
“Why was the envelope addressed to you?” she asked. It had bothered her since she saw it. “He’s supposed to be fixated on me, but now he’s sending you fan mail.”
Xavier took his time answering, rubbing lazy circles on the bottom of her foot with his thumb. “I’m no psychologist, but I’d say that he sees me as an obstacle and wants me to know that he has every intention of getting around me.”
Waverly had suspected as much. “That worries me,” she admitted.
“Don’t. I’d much rather he tried to come after me. I’m not an easy obstacle to get around.”
