Chapter 2: Xander

XANDER

As I watch Briar Wylder's shapely ass leave my classroom, it sinks in just how well and truly fucked I am. She has no idea who she is to me or my brothers.

How the hell does she not know?

I knew the second I stepped into the room and smelled her lavender and sunshine scent. When we locked eyes, I expected a spark of recognition. Instead, I just saw confusion.

I haven't been looking for her. Hell, I'm not even sure I ever wanted to find her. Yet here she is.

What takes my breath away about Briar isn't the effortless beauty of her heart-shaped face. Not her perfectly arched brows that match thick, dark lashes. Not the smattering of freckles across her long nose and high cheekbones. Not her pink, pouty lips.

No, it's the shadows that haunt her ethereal eyes that capture my attention.

What—or who—put them there?

The desk's loud creaking in the still and silent classroom breaks me from my thoughts. Looking down, I see my knuckles are white where I'm gripping the worn oak desk. Releasing the desk edge before it fractures, I shove my fingers through my hair. I need something to keep my hands busy.

What a clusterfuck. She not only has no idea who she is to me, but I'm also her professor—as if the situation isn't complicated enough.

This is why I prefer numbers to people. Numbers, statistics, and equations are all easy. They make sense. There's only one right solution. No lies or disappointments or hurt. Just simple, clean answers.

People, on the other hand, are messy. Flawed. Broken. People let you down. Often. Painfully. Sometimes, though, you're the one letting others down when they need you most. Sometimes, no matter what you do, people leave. Even when they're standing right there.

Fuck!

I mentally slam the door on those thoughts. I need to get my shit together.

I can't fall apart. Not over a girl, even with who she is to me. My brothers need me. I'm the rock, the glue that holds everything together. When they break, I'm the one who helps them pick up the pieces.

That's why I keep the door shut to thoughts of that night. My colossal fuckup means I can't afford to get emotional. I can't afford to slip up. And I've been doing a damned good job ignoring everything until Briar Wylder showed up.

Sixty minutes with her and the walls I've reinforced for almost fifteen years are shaking, threatening to come down.

She's making me feel, and I fucking hate it. I hate the way my heart rate speeds up talking to her. I hate the way I want to chase the shadows from her eyes. I hate the way I want to wrap her up and keep her safe.

Clawing the numbness back that shattered the second I smelled her lavender and sunshine scent, I wrap it around me like armor.

To protect me? To protect my brothers? To protect her?

I don't know, but I do know I need that numbness more than I need air to breathe.

Unclenching my fists, I take a deep breath. When that does jack all to calm me down, I shove my headphones in my ears. Cranking up the volume, I blindly choose a song from my playlist. When the familiar opening notes of "Falling Down" blast in my ears, I huff a laugh. I've felt like I was free-falling from the first minute I locked eyes with her.

What the fuck is this girl doing to me?

I'm not going to find the answers in this empty classroom. Shoving my things in my bag with more force than necessary, I make my way out.

Maybe some time alone will help me get my head on straight. Clutching onto that thought like a lifeline, I stride toward my office, where I can be alone, away from people and all the problems they cause.