Page 37 of Reckless Liar

I nodded at him, trying to keep my gaze steady. “I've got to be there at six.”

He glanced at the clock on the stove, not commenting that it wasn’t even four yet.

He leaned against the refrigerator watching me as I mixed my yogurt with chia seeds. When I went to put the yogurt container back, he didn’t move. He just looked down at me.

“How did you sleep last night?”

“Fine,” I lied. When he didn’t move out of the way, I yanked the handle harder until he jumped. I plunked the yogurt down and stuck my head into the fridge, looking around for something else I could use as a snack, the more complex the better, anything to distract me from Xander and his gaze.

He stepped back, now leaning against the stove, his arms crossed against his chest. “I slept horribly.”

“Oh?” I said into the vegetable crisper drawer.

“Yeah, I did. And I think you did too.”

I sighed heavily. I had hoped that Xander would let this go, at least give me a day’s peace before he wanted to discuss it. I was obviously wrong.

Straightening up I leveled a stare at him. “I slept fine.”

We stood there considering each other. His work shirt was filthy, covered with bark, grass, and dirt. He had a large yellow streak of something across his left shoulder. Dirt flecks clung to his day-old stubble. Still, he looked good. He looked like he’d worked hard all day. Like he was committed, responsible, and strong.

He was never classically as handsome as Max. Max was beautiful—something few men could pull off. Everything about Max was angles and contrast, with the blue eyes and the olive skin, the dark hair and the white teeth. Xander was never the guy who turned heads, not like Max was.

But I knew better than anyone that Max’s beauty came at a cost to us all. When every door opens wide for your beautiful face, you never learn how to turn the key.

Xander was a different look altogether. He was naturally pale; in the summer his skin didn’t tan so much as the freckles on his arms began to blend together. His face had a thicker, youthful look to it, despite how thin he was. But he’d grown into his lanky body, finally filling out in the shoulders and arms. His eyebrows were too blond, blending into his skin. His lax curls were too dark to be blond but too light to be brown. I glanced away, realizing I’d been appraising his looks.

“I can tell you’re lying,” he replied, picking an apple slice out of my sandwich baggy I set out.

“Hey,” I snatched the bag from his hand. “That’s my snack for work. Don’t eat my food.”

He put his hands up in surrender. “Sorry.”

I zipped the bag up, indignant. “You know I don’t have time to go out and get food when I’m at work.”

He popped the rest of the apple slice in his mouth and chewed as he looked at me. “I know you aren’t really snapping at me about an apple slice.”

“Obviously, I am.”

He stepped forward, cocking his head to the side. “Ana, come on.”

“What? I really do need snacks. I can’t have you eating the stuff I have to bring.”

“You don’t need...” he looked at the large bag I’d been packing sitting on the counter. “Five different items, in a single shift.”

“Maybe I do,” I retorted. His needling me was especially aggravating.

“If you’re really that hungry, I can bring you food. Not that you’re at risk of starving with this buffet you’re bringing.”

“I like options.” I grabbed the bag off the counter next to him and turned to face the other counter, setting the bag down there. “Besides, I’d never ask you to bring me food. You have to go to sleep so you can get up early. I’m hungry at like two a.m.”

“If you’re that hungry I’ll bring you food.”

“I don’t need you to.”

“I know. But I’d still do it.”

My hands shook as I set the yogurt next to the trail mix in my bag. Slowly I turned around to face him. His warm eyes were on me. My chest began to hurt, my heart was beating so hard in my chest as I stared at him. He took a step forward toward me.

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