Page 63 of Crossing the Line
He gave her an address, a place he could be sure was safe and quiet.
“Hang in there, Angel. We’re going home.”
--------
It was the first time in his life that Xavier had ever carried a woman across his threshold. He shoved the front door open with his foot and dropped the key ring that dangled from his finger under Waverly’s legs on the table inside the door.
Judging from the shivers that wracked her body, he knew she wouldn’t be interested in a tour of his apartment now, so he bypassed the living room and carried her down the hallway to the master.
When he tried to set her down on the bed, one or both of them refused to let go.
Xavier swore under his breath and toed off his shoes. Using his hand that held her legs, he yanked the covers back and sat down against the pillows and headboard, cradling her against him.
He shrugged out of his jacket and pulled the earpiece out. Waverly curled up against his chest, a scared girl in miles of tulle, and he felt her tears leak through his shirt. Xavier tugged the covers up around her and just held on for dear life.
-------
She must have fallen asleep, Waverly realized, as she slowly clawed her way through the darkness to consciousness. And it all came flooding back to her. The explosions, the panic, the press of the frightened crowd. Ganim.
She jerked awake, and strong arms soothed and held her. She was surrounded by Xavier, his warmth, his scent, his touch, and just like that, the fear began to slip away. In its place came a bone-deep embarrassment. He’d seen her in the throes of a panic attack, and who knows how many others had witnessed it, too. Her dark secret was out, and she’d just handed Xavier a weapon to use against her should he ever need one.
“X?” she whispered. The room was dark, and she couldn’t tell where they were other than someone’s bed.
She felt his lips move against her hair. “Shh, Angel. You’re safe.”
She sat up again. “Kate? My parents? Liam?”
“Everyone is okay.”
“The… bombs?”
“Homemade flash bangs,” he said quietly. “Lots of smoke and noise, but no shrapnel. Only minor injuries.”
“Oh, thank God,” she breathed. “Was it Ganim?”
Xavier pulled her back down against his chest, and she listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
“Don’t think about it right now,” he told her.
She resisted the urge to ask more questions for a minute and then two, lulled by his closeness. “Where are we?” she finally asked.
“My place.”
“I dropped my quarter,” she said mournfully.
“Your good luck charm?” Xavier asked.
He felt her nod against his shoulder. “I lost it on the carpet when the first explosion went off.”
“How long have you had it?”
“Since I was five.” And Xavier knew then where it had come from. The news stand vendor. The man who had pulled Waverly out of the paparazzi frenzy. He’d given her a shiny quarter to play with to calm her down, and she’d kept it all these years. His heart broke a little more for the five-year-old girl who needed a talisman to protect her.
“I’ll be your lucky charm from now on,” he told her gruffly.
It got a snicker out of her. “You’re not going to fit in my purse.”
“I’ll get you a bigger purse,” he promised. He stroked a hand down her back and when she realized his palm was in contact with bare flesh the entire length of her spine, she yelped. “Xavier, where is my top?”
