Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

I honestly would have thought having to hold a chick’s hair back and watch as she emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet would be the one thing to turn me off from a woman for good.

Well, it wasn’t. It didn’t. As I was holding Shardonnay’s hair away from her face, all I wanted to do was help her. Even with snot and tears all over her cheeks, I still thought she was the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. Which is fucked up because that shit was disgusting. It was also a first for me. I think it’s time we have a discussion about what’s happening between us. I need her to know that I’m in this too deep for it just to be an ‘arrangement’ anymore.

There’s also the matter of the fucking bullshit lawsuit I have against me. I need to tell her before she finds out from someone else. I’m just too chickenshit to do it. Burying my head in the sand is so much easier. I don’t want to see the look of doubt—disgust—on her face.

Sliding out of bed as quietly as I can, I head into the kitchen and start the coffee machine. I should go and spend some time in my gym. There are three ways I deal with stress: alcohol, sex, and exercise. I like to work out until my whole body is too exhausted to think. Since I can’t very well do the first two right now, I guess it’s going to be option number three.

I walk back into the bedroom with a hot cup of coffee in my hands, quietly retrieve a pair of sweats and sneakers from my closet, and stop and stare at the sleeping beauty in my bed. Her hair is splayed out around her, the top of her naked breasts peeking from the sheets. My cock stirs and I know I need to get out of here.

I change into my sweats and sneakers in the gym, finish off my coffee, and hit the weight bench. An hour later, my muscles burn and I’m dripping in sweat. Not wanting to wake Shardonnay, I use a bathroom in one of the guest rooms. I turn on the hot water and let the warmth run over my face.

I need to figure out how I’m going to bring up our relationship. I’m not sure she’s going to want this thing between us to be more. I don’t know where her head is at. She could have called me last night when she was at the cop shop, but she didn’t. Why the fuck didn’t she call me?

It pisses me off that she isn’t one hundred percent sure I’d drop everything to come and help her. She should know that, and it’s my fault she doesn’t. When I got that call from Lucy, I wanted to wring her bloody neck for dragging Shardonnay into her mess. I don’t know what’s going on between her and that McKinley kid, but whatever it is, she needs to keep her drama away from Shardonnay.

I’m not blind. I’ve seen the way Dominic stares at Lucy. He’s obsessed with her but doesn’t want to be. I don’t know much about him; our parents have been friends for years, but he rarely shows up when they’re in town. I’m guessing the fact that he’s got his eyes set on my little sister is why he’s been more present.

I’m going to have to have a chat with Lucy about what’s going on between them. Although, I know my sister and if she gets the slightest hint of disapproval about him from anyone, it’ll only push her towards him more. I may not know the guy well enough to disapprove, but I do know he comes from old money, which is a plus. I don’t want some douchebag chasing my sister because she has a trust fund with nine zeroes on the figure.

I wash off, wrap a towel around me, and head towards my bedroom. After a quick check to see that Shardonnay is still asleep, I make my way into the kitchen. I pop a couple of pieces of bread into the toaster and pour a glass of orange juice. I imagine she’s not going to be feeling the best this morning. Loading a breakfast tray with her juice and vegemite-smeared toast, I place two paracetamol pills to one side and take it all to the bedroom. I place the tray on the floor, lean over her, brush her hair from her face, and brush soft kisses across her forehead.

I don’t know what it is about this girl that turns me so fucking soft. I want to cherish her, wrap her up in cotton wool and never let anything hurt her. It’s not a feeling I’m used to having. And, frankly, I don’t know how to deal with it.

“Babe, it’s time to wake up,” I whisper in her ear, kissing down her neck.

“Mmm, what time is it?” she mumbles.

“Eleven fifteen. Come on, I’ve made you breakfast.” I smile as her arms close around my neck and pull me closer.

“Are you breakfast, because that’s a meal I could get used to waking up to,” she says, way more cheery than I would be after a drunken night out.

“As much as I’d love to feed you my cock, you need to eat actual food. Come on, sit up.” I pry her arms from my neck and hop off the bed.

Shardonnay’s eyes open, and her bottom lip pops out. “I object,” she says as she sits upright, tugging the sheet with her to cover her chest.

“On what grounds?” I ask her with a smile.

“On the grounds that you’re the best thing I’ve tasted, and I’d much rather be fed you.” She smirks.

“Overruled.” Laughing, I grab the tray and place it next to her on the bed. “Trust me, you need food in your stomach.”

She picks up the glass of juice, takes one sip, and sets it back on the tray. “How did I get naked? And here?” she asks.

“You don’t remember last night?”

“I remember being out with Lucy and drinking.”

“Do you remember getting arrested?”

“What? No, I didn’t,” she says. “Did I…? Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Did I call you? Shit. I’m sorry.”

My brows draw down. She really doesn’t remember. “You didn’t call me. Lucy did. But you should have called me, Shardonnay.”

“Oh, is Lucy okay? Where is she?” she asks.

“She went home.”

“Oh…” she lets her sentence trail off before reaching for a piece of toast.

“You’re naked because I had to help you shower after you vomited for about thirty minutes.”

Shardonnay’s eyes bulge out of her head. “No! Please, God, tell me you’re joking. I didn’t vomit in front of you.”

“You did. It was bloody disgusting,” I tell her. Redness creeps up her neck and face. “Don’t worry, babe. Even covered in vomit, you’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Thank you…?” she questions.

“How are you feeling? There’s paracetamol there if you need it.” I point to the tablets.

“Oh, I’m fine.”

“No hangover?”

“Nope.”

“Good. Because we have some things to discuss, once you’ve finished your toast and have gotten dressed.” I stand and walk into the closet. I need to get some clothes on myself. Dropping the towel on the floor, I take my time. I need to pull myself together. I need to figure out what I’m going to say to her. I don’t want to scare her away, but she needs to know I’m in this for good. I pull out a pair of jeans and a black V-neck shirt.

By the time I walk back out, Shardonnay is finished eating. “I’m really sorry that I troubled you last night. It won’t happen again,” she says.

I ignore her words. Because if I acknowledge them right now, I know I’ll make a dick of myself. They fucking piss me off. She thinks she troubled me? Fuck that. Instead, I point to the chair on the opposite side of the room.

“There are some clothes there for you. Get dressed and come find me in the living room when you’re ready.” I don’t wait for her reply, turn, and walk out the door. I spend ten minutes pacing the floor of my living room before she stands in the doorway, her fingers wringing together.

“I get it. You don’t have to worry. I won’t become like a stage-five clinger or anything, Xavier. We can be adults about this.”

“Shardonnay, shut up and sit down,” I say, my voice far more gruff than I intended it to be.

Her hands land on her hips and her lips tighten. “Say please,” she says.

“ Please sit down so we can discuss things without someone jumping to conclusions. That someone being you.” I point to her.

“Fine,” she says, walking over to the couch and flopping down.

I take the seat next to Shardonnay, turning my body to face her. I don’t know why this is so fucking hard. I’ve had trials that have been less nerve-racking. I’ve come up with closing arguments that are nothing short of award-winning, yet telling Shardonnay how I feel, what I want us to be—well, I’ve got nothing. I’m speechless.

“Fuck, this is hard. I’ve never had to do this before, so bear with me here.” I run a hand through my hair.

“You’re making me nervous, Xavier. What is it?” Shardonnay asks.

I laugh at the irony. “Babe, you have no idea the nerves I have right now.” I look around the room, and my eyes land on the wet bar. “Do you want a drink?” I ask.

“Nope, just rip the Band-Aid off and say whatever it is you have to say. I can handle it, whatever it is.”

“I want this arrangement to not be an arrangement anymore,” I tell her. I watch as her reassuring smile falls. “No, that didn’t come out right. What I meant was… I want more. I want this.” I gesture between us. “To be more than just an arrangement. I want to… date? That doesn’t even seem like the right word. Um, I want us to be an us and only us. All the time.” I shut my mouth because I’m making such a fucking mess of this speech.

Shardonnay smiles. “You want to be my boyfriend, Xavier?” she asks.

“Yes.” I nod.

“What qualifications do you have for the position?” Her voice turns into her business tone, the one I hear her use while answering the phone at the office.

“I’m really good at holding your hair back while you throw up.” I shrug.

“Huh, I’m not so sure that you’ll be the best fit for the position. Have you ever been a boyfriend before? What’s your level of experience?” She smiles.

I know she’s playing a role here, but damn do I feel like I’m being put on the spot. “No, but there’s always a first time for everything, right?”

“Wait, seriously? You’ve never been in an actual relationship? Why?” Her eyebrows draw down in confusion.

“Well, for the past six years, I’ve been obsessed with my little sister’s best friend. I guess you could say I’ve been holding out for her.”

“You couldn’t stand me,” she says. “You were always so gruff and barely said two words to me every time I was at one of your family’s events.”

“I hated that I wanted you. First of all, you were so fucking young. And the fact that I wanted you, even then… I was disgusted with myself. I hated myself, not you.”

“You know I’m still a lot younger than you. We’re at such different places in life, Xavier. Do you honestly think this can work? Us being an us ?”

“I have no doubt. It doesn’t matter what stage of life we’re at, Shardonnay. Whatever your dreams are, they’ll become my dreams. I will do anything to help you achieve all of the things you want to achieve.”

She stands and starts pacing the living room. “I’m not a charity case, Xavier. I don’t want your money. I don’t want you opening doors for me that wouldn’t normally be opened. I’ve worked for everything I have. I plan to get through life by doing that, by working hard.”

Guess I touched a sore spot. That’s something we’ll have to dig into further. At a later date. Because I have money. Money I plan to use to shower her with the finer things in life. She’s going to have to learn to accept it.

“Babe. Calm down. Relax. At no point have I ever thought of you as a charity case. And as for money, I don’t care if you don’t want it. I know you have things you want to accomplish, and when I say I will support you and do anything I can to help, that’s not me just offering to bankroll you or using my family name for your benefit. That’s me saying I will be here as your biggest cheerleader, supporting you in any way—every way you may need.” I walk over and wrap my arms around her. “That’s not to say I wouldn’t give you money or utilize my family connections if that’s what’s needed. All you have to do is say the word.”

Shardonnay has tears running down her cheeks. Using my thumb, I brush them away.

“Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“I’m not. I just… I think that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” She sniffs.

“Well, shit, you must hang around real assholes if I’m coming across nice, babe.” I laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

“I do. You should meet my boss. If you looked up the term grumpy asshole , you’re bound to see his face.” She giggles.

“Maybe I should have a few words with him. No one should be an ass to you, Shardonnay.”

“Yeah, you do that.”