Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

XANDER

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 6:30 P.M.

It's not unusual for Paxton and Dom to argue and bicker, but for some reason, this feels different. Normally, I'll ask Dom when I don't understand the subtext in social situations, but in this case, I'm sure he'll tell me. Not this Dom. The one who wears nail polish, has a bite to his words, and likes to be called Tor.

Is it this weird space? Like the conference center was built over an ancient burial site or something. No matter what it is, I'm done. Worrying about Mom isn't helpful. The only thing I can do is win this competition and prove to her that I can do this. Prove to myself. That's what Dom always tells me. I can do it. I just have to believe.

I'm not sure why Dom and I are so out of sync, but it's probably me since it's always me. But this thing with Mom is nothing new. She gets upset this time of year. Paxton is a little overprotective. I mean, that's his job. Take care of everything. He says he doesn't want to take over the restaurant. He likes being more behind the scenes, but I've never believed it.

But those aren't the things driving me. My body feels alive, with more energy than normal surging through me. Adrenaline.

All I can think about is Erik.

What would Dom say if he knew? The number of times I've gotten on to him for focusing on a guy instead of what's important. He'd laugh and tell me to live a little. I get it now. The rush. The excitement of being with someone else. Them looking at you like you're important. The all-consuming need to be with them not just in a sexual way but to be cared for. I don't like it. But I also crave it. So that's what I'm doing instead of focusing on the competition.

I'm not even sure where to find Erik. Is he here having dinner with his sister? And is he thinking about me? And what we did?

"Cage?"

I respond to the voice more than the name. Why do people keep calling me that? My heart jolts at the sound of Erik's voice before my brain catches up. "Erik. I was looking for you." Why did I say that? Not saying whatever I think is something I've been working on.

"Really? I thought I just saw you eating with your brother."

"I was. But I wanted to see you."

His eyes crinkle and he gives me a crooked smile, the one that seems to be reserved for me. It's much better than the scowl I used to get. Used to get—just yesterday. Yet I feel like I've known him forever.

A group of teenagers enters the lobby, laughing and pushing each other. "Bruh. Did you see his face?" They're all wearing Gordon Ramsey shirts that have the Hell's Kitchen logo and say Go To Hell on the front.

Erik touches my arm, and I don't even flinch. Am I making progress, or is it just with this man? He leans closer and keeps his voice low. "Can we go somewhere with fewer people?"

I nod, and then, in a moment of daring quite unlike me, I take his hand and thread our fingers together. Instead of feeling like a thousand caterpillars are crawling over my skin, it feels warm and comforting. And exciting.

I lead him to my favorite place. Fairy lights are strewn around the courtyard, and in the dark, it looks magical. I pull him over to the bench. My bench. Have I ever shared my meditation spots with anyone? Except for Dom. Not Mom. Definitely not Paxton.

Erik tugs on my hand. "Hey. Is everything okay?"

"I'm worried about my mom." And while that's true, I'm also worried about this. Him. Not knowing what the heck I'm doing. He nods like he understands. But how can he? He doesn't know my mom, but maybe he understands what it's like to be worried about family. Stop overthinking everything, Xander . Dom's voice is in my head, always there to guide me even when he's gone. Even when he's preoccupied and acting strange.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I shake my head, trying to come up with words. Suitable words, not stupid, mushy words. "I enjoyed what we did."

My face bursts into flames. I'm not always a good judge, but that sounded awkward to me. And strange. Erik smiles, and there's a dimple on his cheek that I want to kiss. Touch. Keep.

"I enjoyed it too. I like you." He shakes his head. "Xander, you know that. I think you've always known that."

The statement is odd. How could I have known it? But I don't question him. This thing between us is delicate, and it can take some pressure, but not too much. And somehow, I know—or at least think I know because I've been plenty wrong before—how much poking this thing can take before it breaks.

"In fact," he says, this time with a full-on grin, "I'm not opposed to doing it again."

Excitement and fear cause my heart to pound harder. "Like, right now?"

He laughs. "Maybe not everything." That fire in my face spreads through my body in quick, hot bursts. His eyes search my face. "Who are you?"

"Xander—"

"No, I mean…it's like I don't know you at all." His hand tightens in mine. Is he afraid I'm going to leave? No chance of that. As long as he looks at me with that fond warmth, I'm not going anywhere. Even when he didn't, I couldn't resist him.

"Your eyes are the same—dark and sexy. But instead of mocking, there's this innocence."

My stomach sinks. I hate feeling vulnerable. Less than. I try to pull away, but he doesn't let go. "Maybe I should?—"

"Wait. I'm not explaining it well. There's a sweetness. A yearning. And maybe you've just hidden this side of you. But I like it." His voice drops to a whisper. "I like you."

I'm not sure how to respond. How to feel. "You do?"

"How can you doubt it?"

"It's this thing I do. I doubt everything."

He inches closer, and I don't want to push him away. "Not everything. I've seen you bake…of course. But watching you earlier?—"

"You watched me?"

He grins. "You're the competition."

Right. I nod. "Of course."

"That was a joke, Xander." He tips my chin up and catches my eye. "I watched you because I like torturing myself. You've always been skilled at baking. But the confidence…the passion is sexy as hell."

"Oh." Should I thank him? My mouth is dry. I lick my lips, trying to get some moisture. His eyes follow the movement and flare with desire.

He palms my face, and I lean into his touch, needing it as much as my next breath. The scent of vanilla has me aching to taste him again. To lick his skin. Kiss his mouth. I cover his hand with mine and press a lingering kiss to the center of his palm. My heart pounds out a warning. Will he push me away?

His thumb presses lightly against my lips. And I resist the urge to close my eyes. To experience this fully, I need to see his face. His eyes. His mouth as he leans in and kisses the corner of mine. I turn to get more. My body amped up to a thousand in anticipation. When he kisses me, I melt against him. I open my mouth on the next kiss, using my tongue to explore. To get as much of him as I can.

"What the actual fuck?"

We scramble apart at the shriek of words. The guy from before. The handsy one from the first day. He stares at us with his mouth open and his eyes popping out of his head.

"Ren." Erik jumps to his feet, an obvious bulge reminding me this really happened. His hands drop in front of him.

"I trusted you."

The pieces are all there, just waiting for me to put them together. My stomach drops. They're together.

"It just happened. God, that's lame. But it's not like you guys are together—it's still not…" Erik trails off as Ren glares at him and then at me. The hurt is evident in his eyes.

"Not together? First I'm hearing of it. Or was that display at dinner my hint? And here I was, worried about you and your brother."

"What?" My stomach churns, threatening to send my dinner back up. Nothing makes sense. But shouldn't I be used to that by now? "Together?" As in Ren and I?

"Fuck off, Cage." He storms out like a flash of lightning, leaving devastation in his wake. It's there in Erik's eyes.

He laughs harshly. "God, I'm such an idiot. Same ol' Cage. Messing with people for your own enjoyment. And I fell for the innocent act."

"I don't know that guy."

"Stop." He holds up his hands and shakes his head. "Don't talk to me ever again. I'll be civil for Callie's sake, but that's it." He storms off.

His words don't make sense, but that's not new. I should have known this wouldn't work. The pain is as terrible as the thrill was wonderful. I yank off the medallion.

I was right before. I don't need Erik or any man.

On my way back to the room, I run into Dom in the hallway. Thank God. My brother is the only one who gets me. I'm so relieved that a smile stretches across my face. "Hey, Dom."

"Hi there." His eyes crinkle as if we're sharing a secret. He takes my hand and pulls me into the stairwell. Can he tell I'm over people today? Probably.

But his hand moves to my chest, and I stare at him. What is he doing? "I missed you," he says, leaning in.

I squirm away from him as fast as I can. Was he going to kiss me? The hurt look on his face guts me. "What are you doing, Dom?"

"But—you're not wearing the necklace."

What does that have to do with anything? I pull it out of my pocket. I'll probably never wear it again.

He stares at it and then at me. "Oh my God. I'm going to be sick." He holds up a hand like he's warding off demons. Then he rushes down the stairs, leaving me completely alone.

I manage to avoid Dom all night, and when I get up in the morning, he's already gone. Today is the last day of the competition. There are only eight teams left. Four will get eliminated in the morning and the winners will compete in the afternoon. They'll total the score of the remaining teams and announce the winners. The prize? Money and prestige.

Dom and I have to work this out, or there's no point in even competing.

I spot Dom and Paxton arguing at a table. As Dom waves his hands around to make his point, purple nail polish catches the light. Great.

I sit in the chair across from my brother, but neither seems to notice.

"You're wrong." Paxton stabs a finger in my brother's direction. "Absolutely and completely."

"Let's Google it."

"I don't have to Google it to know you're wrong." He turns to me. "How do you deal with this all the time?"

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Has Paxton ever empathized with me? A week ago, he would have been saying those words to Dom. Paxton's phone rings, and he excuses himself to take the call, leaving Dom and me awkwardly alone.

But my brother eats his breakfast like last night never happened. I'm not reminding him. "What were you guys arguing about?"

"Whether Pikes Peak is in Colorado. I told him it isn't."

"But it is."

He flashes me a grin. "I know."

"But…why?"

He shrugs, but the smile lingers on his face. "Messing with Paxton is fun. His face turns this delicious shade of red."

Maybe I am in another dimension. An alternate reality.

I order my food, and by the time it arrives, Paxton has returned.

"Back again?" Dom asks, or should I say Tor? "Why are you always around?"

"Why are you always such a brat?"

"Because it brings out this nervous tic you have right here." He touches his forehead and Paxton knocks his hand away.

"Leave me alone."

Tor scowls. "No problem." He's gone before I can stop him. We still need to coordinate for today.

But worrying about my brother can wait. "Was that Mom?" I ask, needing something to be normal.

His mouth is a thin line as he stares at his half-eaten food. "Yes."

"And?" I prompt, waving my hand in a get-on-with-it motion.

"She's not hiding in her office crying, so that's a plus. But Jeremy is threatening to quit." He sets his fork down with a sigh. "You guys need to stop letting things distract you. Get on the same page and win this thing. For your mom."

But that's easier said than done. Erik's face when that guy showed up. He hates me now. And maybe that's for the best.

"Did you change your shirt?"

I glance up at Paxton's words. Dom is back in his seat and waving to the waiter. Did he change his shirt? I hadn't even noticed what he was wearing. But the gray-striped Henley shirt he's wearing now is one of his favorites.

"Can I get two eggs over easy? And bacon?"

Paxton and I stare at him. Dom already ate two eggs and pancakes. Is he really that hungry?

"What?" Dom asks. "I'm hungry. Is that a problem, Paxton?"

Paxton shakes his head. "Nope."

Dom avoids looking at me. Or speaking to me. This is what I expected when I first sat down. The server brings Dom's food, and he digs in again.

"I'm gone," Paxton says, shaking his head. "You guys need to figure your shit out."

After he leaves, Dom mumbles, "What's his problem?"

"You. This place. Everything about this competition." When he doesn't respond, I lean forward to get his attention. "Dom. We have to fix this. Today is our last chance."

He puts down his fork and wipes his mouth. "It's fine. We're fine. Just focus on doing your part, and I'll do mine."

He's right. And this is exactly what Mom is worried about. That I'll buckle under pressure. I have in the past. But that won't happen today. I can do this. Ignore everyone being weird around us. Ignore the pain in my chest when I think about Erik. Ignore my brother and his weird moods. I leave Dom with his plate of food and find my favorite tree. Only now, it reminds me of Erik. Kissing him. Touching him.

I push those thoughts away and meditate.

After clearing my mind, I feel better. At least until I spot Erik in the hallway that leads to the elevators. Dom is with him and they're in a heated discussion. But then Dom wraps his arms around Erik and hugs him.

How? Why? Do they even know each other? But it's clear they do. And now I feel utterly alone.

Doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is crushing this competition and proving I've got what it takes.