Page 35 of Reckless Liar

Standinginthekitchen,I could hear Xander watching TV in the other room, a random show about woodsmen or fishermen or something that I would complain about typically, but if Xander got up, I would continue watching for a few episodes. I closed my eyes, thinking of how angry he seemed to be when confronting me.

I kept pushing him, trying to get the truth out of him. Not just his own truth, but mine as well. I expected him to show me how to feel, like Max did. I never had to doubt my feelings for Max. That was one thing I could count on. But with Xander? I felt so mixed up inside. I wanted to go to him. But I also wanted to walk out the door and run away from this whole place, with all its gnarled complications. All these goddamn emotions.

How long had I felt this way? How long did I linger too long on the image of Xander’s smile? I couldn’t fight against the way my heartbeat pulsed in my ears when he came into the room. How many times did I reach for him and hold onto his hand longer than what was appropriate? I felt my resolve unraveling before me. I knew. Of course, I knew.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I walked into the living room. Xander sat in the middle of the couch, pointedly ignoring me. Striding in front of him, he continued to look away from me as if I wasn’t there. I sank down on my knees, crouched between his legs. Grabbing the remote from his hand, I muted the volume. Placing my hands on each side of his legs, I looked at him.

“Xan. I don’t know what to do right now.” I whispered. He sighed heavily, opening his mouth to speak. I shook my head at him. “Please, don’t.”

I closed my eyes, lowering my head and tapped my fingers on the couch next to him. “You are my best friend. Most days, you’re the only thing I can rely on in this entire world. If I lost what we have... I’ve already lost so much, Xander. I can’t lose you too.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Ana,” he whispered. He placed his hands over mine, stilling my fingers.

“I feel like...” I struggled with the words. “What if we screw this up?”

“We won’t.”

My eyes filled with tears. I looked away from Xander. “You can’t know that.”

“I do. Of course, I know that.” He reached up and cupped my cheek in his hand. I turned my face into his palm. He wiped a tear off my cheek with the pad of his thumb. “I can feel it. Can’t you feel this? Can’t you feel...”

Placing my hand over the top of his. “I feel it, Xander. I do. But I don’t know if it’s enough...”

“It is enough. Trust me.”

A warmth swelled over me as I laid my head on Xander’s knee. He raised his hand to run his fingers through my hair. “Oh, Xander, what are we going to do?”

With his hand in my hair, I closed my eyes, trying to stop the tears. I thought of how. when I was a child, my mother put me in piano lessons, which I spent a few months failing at. She put me in softball, and that was a bust. I went through cheerleading, guitar lessons, ballet, swim team, soccer, sculpting, jazz dance. All to equally disastrous results. The only thing in life I could excel at was mediocrity. Complacency has always been a strong suit of mine. Why work hard? Why toil and burn at something that would never merit a single return?

Max was the one and only thing I could ever say I gave my all to. My relationship with Max was a singular focus for most of my life. I foolishly thought that it would be for all my life. I’d hoped maybe I could refocus my energy on being a mother someday—to mine and Max’s children. But everything I wanted to achieve in life was not meant to be.

With my head on Xander’s leg, I felt his hand on my hair, his calloused fingers catching against my scalp in a gritty way that stirred in my chest. I wanted so badly to believe in the way I was feeling. To fall into Xander’s arms, to kiss him the way I wanted to. I wanted to lift my face to his, press my lips against his lips, and feel his hand on my waist, pulling me closer. I wanted him to push me down on the floor and press the weight of his body into me. I wanted to feel the score of his beard across my cheek as he kissed my neck. I wantedhim.

But if the last year after Max has taught me anything, it’s that I was a fool when it came to matters of the heart. I let my adoration blind me once and I can’t let it happen again.

Xander was silent as the weight of what was passing between us settled. “What do you want to do?” he whispered.

The tears welled up again, surprising me. “I don’t know.”

“If you want me, I’m yours. You know that, Ana. Say the word.” His hand stilled in my hair, gently brushing through the snarls.

I pulled myself up, my hands still on each side of his legs. I studied his face. It was such an honest face with his wide smile, his upper lip was a little too full to be symmetrical with the lower lip, his hazel eyes flared with little gold flecks. His blond eyebrows, his light-colored stubble. Xan’s face had character. The scar on his chin, the raised keloid I’d brushed my finger against so long ago. Was that when this began? When did I start feeling this way?

I was still between his knees. It felt a little pornographic. I thought for a moment that if someone walked in at that moment, they’d get the wrong idea of what was going on.

I wasn’t sure how I wanted to feel. I wasn’t sure how to proceed with this.

“Xander,” I whispered. “I don’t...”

I shook my head, not trying to wipe off the tears coming now.

“Please, Ana, tell me. What are you saying?” He leaned forward, placing a hand on my cheek. “Tell me what to do.”

“I wish I knew,” I said, my voice low. He cradled my cheek in his hand so gently. Such a tender sensation made me despondent. His soft touch against my skin, his silky words, this realization that I’d developed feeling for him all overwhelmed me. Knowing that, with a single word, Xander would be with me was too frightening an idea.

I stood up. I needed distance from him. His warmth, his touch—it was too much for me. I shook my head. “I should go to bed.”

He grabbed my hand, my palm fitting so perfectly in his grasp. His calloused fingers delicate against the back of my hand. “No, Ana. You can’t go to bed, not after what’s happened.”

---