Chapter Six
April 1st
Conference rooms weren’t designed with one’s comfort in mind. Physical comfort, sure. The long cherry wood table was flawless and smooth. The leather chair hugged her ass like it’d been designed just for her with a cushy place to support her aching head and perfectly positioned, ergonomic rests for her arms.
But mental comfort was a different thing entirely. Nothing about the room Sophie and Xander currently waited in said kick back and chill for a while. It was sterile and stiff, with abstract art on the walls that attempted to convey a sense of modern flair and expensive taste, but just made her feel uncomfortable and on edge. Even the gigantic ficus plant in the corner looked like it wouldn’t dare move a single leaf from its original position at the time of purchase.
Basically, conference rooms really, really sucked.
Also? April Fools’ Day. Yeah.
How fitting that today of all days was her emergency hearing where she had to convince a judge that her sham of a marriage was exactly the opposite. If she pulled it off, it would be the biggest April Fools’ joke ever. Then again, she wasn’t sure the joke wasn’t already on her.
In the span of a week, Sophie had gone from being perpetually single to suddenly married, owner of her own business to potentially jobless, and a law-abiding citizen to an active participant in marriage fraud.
Her life was officially a clusterfuck.
Every muscle in her body was tensed as though preparing for impact while she repeatedly turned the ring on her left hand. Not wanting to waste a ton of money on unnecessary wedding bands, they’d opted for the silicone kind. They were inexpensive and practical where Xander’s job was concerned. He’d chosen a platinum finish for himself and a slim jade one for her. She kind of loved it and had already decided she’d wear it on her right hand when this was all over. It was a gift—conditional and necessary, though it may be—from Xander and it would serve as a reminder about the time she did something crazy to stand up for herself and what was rightfully hers.
She glanced over at Xander sitting next to her. He was sexy as hell in his suit. She wondered how often a cage fighter needed to wear something so expensive. She wasn’t an expert in men’s fashion, but she could tell the difference between a department store suit and one made of fancy material that had been custom tailored to fit his muscular physique to perfection. The man looked decadently edible.
But not only did she appreciate his suave appearance, she admired the confidence and strength he exuded. He reclined in the black leather chair looking for all the world like he was waiting on takeout but wasn’t particularly hungry.
“No BFD,” she muttered under her breath.
“What’s that?” He turned those crazy beautiful eyes on her and struck her mute. Of course he wore a blue dress shirt that made his eyes look like jewels taken from the Mediterranean Sea. “Soph? You say something?”
“I said you look like this is no BFD.”
“Sorry, you’ll have to translate. American acronyms aren’t my strong suit.”
“Big Fucking Deal,” she whispered. “You look like you don’t have a care in the world. Like we’re not in danger of you-know-what if we can’t you-know-what the you-know-who.”
Inappropriate amusement spread across his handsome face as he leaned over so close that if she tilted her chin up an inch, their lips would meet. “Sophie, you know they don’t have the room under surveillance, right? They’re not watching and listening in.”
Jesus, she hadn’t even thought of video cameras. Wringing her hands in her lap, her eyes darted around the room looking for evidence of tiny hidden lenses. Unfortunately, the government didn’t use anything conspicuous like nanny-cam teddy bears. “Yeah, sure. That’s what they want you to think.”
“Well then, we’d better make this good.” Before she even had a chance to bring her gaze back to Xander, he cupped her face with one rough hand and kissed her.
Her body tensed in surprise and her knee-jerk reaction was to pull away, but his long fingers threaded into her hair and pressed on the back of her head, denying her escape. But it only took a moment before her tension dissolved beneath his sensuous lips. He kissed her again and again, as though each kiss laid claim to a different part of her mouth, and yet he didn’t push for more.
And she really wanted more.
Grabbing the lapels on his suit jacket Sophie pulled him in closer and opened her mouth. Xander answered her silent plea. He closed his fist tight in her hair, creating a delicious sting at her scalp as he thrust his tongue against hers with a groan that vibrated all the way to her sex.
The heavy conference room door opened. They released each other and bolted to their feet like teenagers caught by their parents. Xander cleared his throat and tugged his jacket back to center while Sophie smoothed her hands down her pencil skirt. A brief glance in Xander’s direction confirmed her eighteen-hour lipstick lived up to its claims. When she got home, she was giving it a five-star review on Amazon. And buying a lifetime supply.
“Well,” the gorgeous redhead, Vanessa Maris, said with a smile, “if the judge wants proof by way of a demonstration, I think we’ll have nothing to worry about.”
Xander’s face broke into a huge smile and met Vanessa at the head of the table. “Hello, Nessie,” he said, bringing her in for an affectionate hug. “It’s so good to see you.”
“Same to you, handsome.”
Sophie noted how it did not bother her that the two were tossing out endearments for each other, and how not territorial she felt seeing a beautiful woman, who knew her fake husband better than Sophie did, pressed up against him in a tight embrace. Yep, no jealousy here. Good thing she was a mature—
Oh no she didn’t! Vanessa had ended the hug with kissing him smack on the lips. Maybe not right on the lips. More like the corner. Or just baaaaarely off to the side. Whatever, the point was that she couldn’t go around kissing men all willy-nilly like that.
Since Vanessa was helping them pro bono, Sophie rolled her lips inward between her teeth so she wouldn’t blurt out something she’d regret. Bonus points for not going ape shit.
“Sorry I couldn’t meet with you guys beforehand. I had an emergency call from a client and didn’t have time to swing by.”
“Please, no need to explain,” Xander said. “We’re grateful for your help. I’m sure you’ve guessed this gorgeous creature is Sophie.”
Vanessa held her hand out and chuckled. “Yes, I had a hunch when I saw your tongue down her throat. Nice to finally meet you, Sophie.”
Sophie stood tall and pushed her shoulders back, firmly shaking the woman’s hand in a silent show of strength and confidence. She heard Grams’s words from when Sophie was younger. Caldwells don’t pull their punches, sugarplum. If you let others know right from the start that they can’t walk on you, you’ll never even have to prove it to them.
“It’s a pleasure, Ms. Maris.” Real subtle, Soph. Doubt she forgot her married name. “Xander speaks very highly about you. And your husband.” Somebody shoot me, I can’t stop!
Vanessa’s smile grew, hinting at suppressed amusement. “Please, call me Vanessa. After all, you married this knucklehead, so that makes us family.”
Sophie frowned. “Family?”
Xander started making his way back to their side of the table. “Not by blood. We’re sort of a band of misfits. Aiden—my friend that I told you goes by Irish—”
“And who is married to my little sister and expecting their firstborn next month,” Vanessa added, excitement changing her face from shrewd attorney to anxious auntie.
“Right, well he’s the only one of us who still has a parent living he’s on good terms with.” Xander reached Sophie’s side and all three of them lowered into the plush seats. “Mrs. O’Brien’s a great woman and considers all of us as hers now, but she lives in Boston.”
“So basically it’s just us: Reid and Lucie, me and Jackson, Irish and Kat, and last but not least,” she smiled at Xander, “our seventh wheel, here.”
“Ah, but I’m not the odd man out anymore, Nessie. Now it’s me”—Xander looked away from Vanessa and chucked her lightly under the chin—“and Sophie.”
“That’s right,” Vanessa said, “and we take care of our own, so there was never a question of whether I’d help.”
“Except that this isn’t—” Sophie nervously glanced around the room again for signs of courthouse spies, then lowered her voice to a whisper as a precaution. “This isn’t even real.”
Xander pinned her with a look of assurance and laced the fingers of one hand with hers. “As far as the rest of the world is concerned, it is real until we say different. Yeah?”
She nodded and gave his hand a quick squeeze of thanks. “Yeah.”
“Okay, so here’s the thing,” Vanessa said in a no-nonsense attorney voice. “Your uncle has a hard-on for selling your grandmother’s property. He’s going to fight this marriage tooth and nail in order to keep the trust and make the deal.”
Sophie nodded. “I figured as much.”
“I won’t bore you with all the back and forth legalese, but in laymen’s terms, I said he has no proof you’re not in love and in a legitimate committed relationship, and he called bullshit. He said you had no qualms about breaking the law and mentioned your juvenile years as testament of the truth.”
Oh shit. How many times had Grams warned that her reckless actions would come back to bite her in the ass? “I thought juvie records got sealed when you became an adult.”
“They do, which is why he can only hope that bringing it up influences the judge’s decision indirectly. Normally, judges get pissed when someone tries to sway them with bullshit, but guess who’s golfing buddies with the honorable Judge Johnson? Whose first name, sadly, is not Dwayne.”
“Christ,” Xander muttered, leaning back in his chair. “That’s it, then. Over just like that.”
Vanessa gave him a dramatically wounded look. “I’m hurt you don’t have more faith in me. I’m called Viper in the courtroom for a reason, my little British crumpet. Your talents are fighting and looking pretty. Since I don’t see a cage anywhere, I’d appreciate it if you focused on doing the latter, m’kay, sweet pea?”
Sophie smiled wide and crossed her arms in satisfaction. “Oh, I like her.” And she did, now that she’d given the woman more than thirty seconds before unsheathing her claws. Feeling his gaze on her, she looked over at Xander. “What?” she asked innocently.
His eyes tracked between the women and then settled on Sophie. “I think I liked it better when you didn’t.”
Like the mature adult she was, Sophie stuck her tongue out at her faux beau before turning her attention back to Vanessa. “So what did Judge Not Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson rule?”
“He couldn’t blatantly ignore my arguments and the lack of proof, but clearly he didn’t want to shut his buddy out completely, either.” Vanessa took some papers out of her briefcase and gave them each a copy. “This states that you both agree to return in six months to be evaluated by the court as proof this wasn’t a fraudulent attempt to collect the trust under false pretenses.”
Sophie’s jaw unhinged. “Six months?” When they’d come up with this crazy marriage plan to thwart her uncle’s hostile takeover, she’d assumed it would be a couple of weeks, a month at most. But six months was longer than most Hollywood marriages lasted.
Xander’s strong hand lightly massaged the back of her neck, helping her to stay calm. “Relax, gorgeous. Focus on the end game. The one where we stick it to Caldwell and you get to keep your grandmum’s legacy.”
“You’re right.” Blowing out a deep breath, Sophie said, “Okay, so that’s it, then? We hold off the divorce for six months, the court verifies it, and then we’re in the clear?”
“Yes and no,” Vanessa said. “During the course of the six months, you’ll need to live as a true married couple. That means moving in together, being seen together, the whole shebang.”
Sophie wasn’t sure what Vanessa said after the “live as a true married couple” part. Her brain had snagged on that tiny detail and couldn’t move on. Apparently, Xander had no such problem.
“Do we need to provide bed sheets with her virginal blood as well? Or will they be asking to witness the consummation themselves to be absolutely sure?” His words were pointedly ridiculous and meant as a joke, but his tone held an underlying menace. He wasn’t amused by this in the least.
This was too much to ask of him. His gain in this venture was mild compared to hers. It might be a pain, but he could relocate the gym and his business would be up and running again in no time. All the tenants would be compensated handsomely. They could choose to relocate, too, or even retire. She was the only one who was holding on for dear life for sentimental reasons. She couldn’t put him out to this degree. It wasn’t fair.
“Xander, I’m sorry,” Sophie said, turning to face him. “I knew this was a bad idea from the beginning, but never did I think it would get this out of hand. Don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll be fine.”
Piercing blue eyes narrowed as he leaned in close. “Who said I was worried about anything, and what do you mean by saying you’ll be fine? O’course you’ll be fine. That’s why I’m here, to make sure you are fine and your uncle is not. At least not where you or your bakery is concerned.”
“You can’t possibly intend to go on with this,” she argued.
“Why is that again?”
“Because it’s— You can’t— Ugh. Think about it, Xander. We barely know each other and you think we can simply shack up together for half a year like it’s a walk in the park?”
“I am thinking about it, Sophie. I know you a lot better than you think. And I bet if you stopped and thought about it, you’d realize you know me better than you think, too. That’s not to say we don’t still have plenty to learn, but that’s how all relationships start out, so it’s not as if we’re breaking new ground. As for living together, it might take a little getting used to, but we’re both busy people so it’s not like we’ll be up each other’s arses all day and night.” Suddenly a smile broke out on his face. “Though, if you’d like me up your arse, I’m happy to accommodate you in that as well.”
Both women scolded him with his own name simultaneously, making the brute laugh despite himself. “There now,” he said, holding her chin with his thumb and side of his finger. “That’s the Sophie I like to see. Full of fire and spirit. No more defeatist thoughts, and stop trying to spare me from everything. You may not have noticed—and if not, please let me know so I can rectify the matter—but I’m a big boy. If I want out of something, I’ll tell you, yeah?”
“Yeah,” she whispered.
He gave her a wink and then spoke to his friend. “We can’t thank you enough for helping us with this, Nessie.”
“You can thank me by coming to visit us soon. Irish is clearly going into Daddy panic mode, but if anyone even hints that he doesn’t have his shit together, he becomes a raging Hulk. I think you’re the only one who can get him to decompress before he blows. And if I have to console my sister because Irish throws himself into a volcano, I’m going to be seriously pissed.”
Xander chuckled and promised to call his friend and tell him he’d come out as soon as he could. They all chatted while Sophie and her new husband signed the papers agreeing to the six-month trial sentence. Then they said their good-byes and went their separate ways. Vanessa to the airport, and Sophie and Xander to her tiny apartment. Their agenda for the night suddenly required a whole lot of moving things from one side of the street to the other. Joy.
…
Xander set the box down in his bedroom with a relieved grunt. He and Sophie had been moving her clothes and things from Sophie’s apartment across the street all evening. They’d decided on his flat because it was bigger, but his square footage was drastically shrinking from Sophie’s wardrobe.
The woman had several dozen pairs of high heels alone and insisted they all needed to be brought over. “This is six months we’re talking here. One hundred and eighty-three days,” she’d said. “If I only bring some over then they’ll get worn down and expire before their time, and my other pairs will think I don’t love them anymore. It’s neglect and abuse either way you look at it.”
At that statement, he’d looked at her like she’d lost the plot. But he supposed everyone had their weaknesses, and apparently hers was expensive footwear.
“That’s the last of it, then,” he called out. “You are officially moved into the James residence.”
Sophie appeared in the doorway of his walk-in closet where she’d been hanging up and organizing her wardrobe. Since most of his attire was all for the gym, his regular clothes took up almost no space at all. Now his closet looked like a mini Neiman Marcus.
“You mean James-Caldwell residence,” she corrected.
“Right, because you didn’t take my last name. Why was that again?” Their wedding was kind of a blur for both of them. They each remembered bits and pieces, but for the most part they’d been utterly shitfaced and most of the night’s memories eluded them. Kristin and Billy, their official witnesses, remembered even less than they did.
She shrugged as she crossed to the bed and sat while folding a shirt. “Probably because there’s no point in changing it when I’d just have to change it back in six months.”
“Well, you wouldn’t have to,” he said, taking a seat beside her. “It wouldn’t bother me if you kept it, I’m sayin’.”
She smiled, those ruby-red lips revealing brilliant teeth. “That’s very sweet of you, Xander, but I’m happy being a Caldwell.”
“What, so you’re saying even if we’d gotten married for real, you still wouldn’t have changed it?” She didn’t say anything, but at least she had the decency to look slightly apologetic. “I’ve got to admit, Soph, that hurts my male pride.”
“It’s not uncommon anymore for a woman to keep her maiden name,” she argued. Standing, she walked back toward the closet. “Kristin didn’t take Billy’s last name.”
“Who can blame her?” Xander got up and followed her, then leaned against the doorjamb, his arms and ankles crossed. “The man’s name is Snodgrass. That’s just bloody awful. No one should be subjected to that. Did you know that having an ugly surname was actually a punishment back in the days of Henry V?”
“Was it now,” she said dramatically, playing along.
“Oh, absolutely. That’s where all the ridiculous names like Snodgrass came from. If you displeased the king, he changed your name to something humiliating. Something that made people snicker in polite society and fall down with laughter behind closed doors.”
This particular ridiculous story had been conjured up by him and his older brother, Max, while discussing the unfortunate names of brothers they grew up with. “I used to know brothers named Harry and Eaton. Great chaps with the most unfortunate names I’ve ever heard. Can you guess at their surname?”
She shook her head. “Not even a little.”
He had her chuckling now, and it only served to egg him on. She was radiant when happy, and he’d do just about anything to keep that look on her face.
“Balszac.”
A hearty laugh burst from her as she said, “Shut up. You’re lying!”
Her mirth was contagious and he gladly joined her. Holding a hand over his heart, he said, “Swear to Christ, I’m not. And it was even worse for poor Harry because he was a beast of a boy and a damn fine rugby player.”
“How does that make it worse?”
“Well, it wouldn’t normally, except there were two other Harrys in class, so people used an identifier to keep them straight. Ginger Harry, for his hair. Mad Harry, for his temper. And lastly, for his size…Big Harry.”
“Big Harry Bal—” She slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the peals of laughter he could see bubbling in her chest, but her expressive chocolate eyes still twinkled. Lowering her hand, she wrinkled her nose and said, “Oh my God, can you imagine social functions where they had to be introduced over and over again?”
Xander gestured to an imaginary person next to him. “Gentlemen, I’d like you to meet our star rugby player, Big Harry Balszac. His brother is that young man over at the buffet. Yes, the one shoving prawns in his face is Eaton Balszac.”
Sophie placed a hand on her flat belly as she threw her head back and laughed deep and long, dropping a dress in the process. “You’re right,” she said, finally calming down and wiping the tears from her eyes. “I can see how that would be a special kind of torture.”
“See? Now you can give Billy the bad news that at one time, he probably had a very lovely name.”
Xander and Sophie bent to pick up the dress at the same time and bumped foreheads.
“Son of a—”
“Jesus, Soph, I’m sorry.” They straightened and he brushed her long fringe aside to study the place where he’d nutted her. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” She touched the spot gingerly and winced. “Grams always said I was hardheaded.”
You’re not the only one. Though his was a different head entirely and was getting harder by the second. Xander barely resisted the urge to adjust himself. It no longer surprised him every time his body reacted to her. Seemed it was as inevitable as gravity around this woman.
He trailed his fingers down the side of her face. Her jewel-toned hair sat atop her head in a messy knot, leaving her pale throat on display. He pictured it marked with streaks of red left from his beard stubble. Maybe a faint bite mark. Or two. Or five.
“Xander…” She cleared her throat like her voice had come out too breathy for her liking. But he liked it just fine like that. All breathy and needy. For him. “I think now would be a good time to go over the details of our arrangement.”
He narrowed his eyes a bit as he studied her. “Details?”
“Yeah, you know. The things we expect out of each other. As roommates.”
“Roommates.” He took a step back. And then another. Christ, stop panting after her like she’s a bitch in heat. Crossing his arms over his chest again, he said, “Why don’t you just tell me what you expect and then I’ll see if it’s something I find agreeable.”
She licked her lips in a nervous way and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Okay, sure. Well, for one thing, I get up at four every morning so I can be in the bakery by five, which means I’m not much of a night owl. I usually don’t make it past ten and I know you’re typically up later, but I’m not a light sleeper so you won’t have to worry about waking me up.”
“How do you know I’m up later than ten o’clock?”
“Hmm? Oh. I don’t,” she said waving a hand. “I said I’m sure you are because you don’t seem like the kind of guy who needs much sleep.”
That’s not what she said, but he decided to let it go for now. It may have been a slip of the tongue. He didn’t enjoy interrogating someone based on a hunch. He preferred to give people enough rope to hang themselves with if they were guilty of something. And if they weren’t, then he hadn’t started a needless confrontation or hurt anyone’s feelings.
“Also,” she continued, “I think as long as we’re careful—because I’m not putting it past my uncle to have a telescope trained on your apartment somewhere—no one will know that I’m actually sleeping on the couch and not with you.”
“I’ll be the one sleeping in the living room, Sophie, and you’ll be taking the bed.”
“That’s ridiculous. You’re already sacrificing your home and everything else. I’m not kicking you out of your room for six months. Forget it.”
“No, you forget it. Whether it’s for six days or six months, you’re my guest. And besides that, you’re a lady and ladies need privacy for whatever it is ladies do. The couch is a sleeper so I’ll be just fine crashing there, and I have no need for privacy.”
“Okay. Thank you…but if you want it back at any time—”
“Sophie,” he warned.
She held her hands up in a supplicating manner. “All right, all right. But then you really have to make sure the curtains are drawn before you start pulling out the sleeper, okay?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Not a problem. I always make sure they’re drawn at night.” Mostly. Probably. Not really.
“No, you don’t,” she said.
For the first time, he realized she had a front row seat to anything he did in his kitchen or living room. The thought of her watching him from her little dark apartment aroused him. No surprise there. But he hated that she might have seen him with other women. He didn’t consider himself an exhibitionist. It didn’t turn him on to have people watching him shag. But it didn’t exactly bother him, either. As a fit man comfortable in his own skin, unless the woman brought it up, he never gave much thought to preventing others from seeing him do anything. Horses for courses and all that.
However, if he’d known before that Sophie lived above her shop, he would have had a newfound affinity for privacy on certain nights. Those nights when he tried exorcising her from his mind by shagging the type of women he’d always been attracted to. From the time his voice and bollocks dropped, he’d panted after blond, tan, walking Barbie dolls—opposite of his fair-skinned, dark-haired angel of a mum—until the day he set eyes on the tattooed pinup beauty closing her ruby-painted lips around the last half of a cupcake, and she ruined him for all other women.
None of them did anything for him anymore. Each time, he ended up fantasizing it was Sophie’s arms around him, Sophie’s slick heat he sank into, Sophie’s moans of pleasure. The woman had him twisted up in knots and she hadn’t the faintest idea.
“Sophie Caldwell,” he said, dropping his voice an octave, “have you been spying on me?”
She squared her shoulders. “As if. No. Absolutely not.”
He shook his head slowly and tsked. “Me thinks the lady doth protest too much.”
“Uh, no. I don’t doth anything, Mr. Know It All.”
Crossing her arms over her chest like a petulant child, she glared at him. He didn’t offer anything else. Simply waited her out. Eventually she’d break. She had too much fire in her to sit back and play the mental tug-of-war. When Sophie played, she used her claws.
She didn’t disappoint.
“Look, it’s not my fault that you have an aversion to drawing your damn curtains.” Irritation rolled off her, though he hadn’t pinpointed whether it was at him for accusing her of spying or for not putting his draperies to good use. “Haven’t you ever heard that windows at night turn your house into a fishbowl?”
“Can’t say I have, no.”
“Well, they do. Which reminds me, you’ll have to be more creative with your locations when you need female companionship. You can’t bring them back here anymore, obviously.”
“Obviously,” he repeated. Now he understood what had her hackles up like a wolf defending her territory, and he couldn’t blame her one bit. Xan stepped into her until their bodies barely brushed each other. “Fear not, wife, I won’t be running around on you, behind your back or otherwise.”
That seemed to surprise her. “Xander, we’re not really married. I don’t expect you to be celibate, for fuck’s sake.”
Reaching up, again he lightly trailed his fingertips down her cheek and over her lips. Her eyes darted back and forth and he could practically see her struggle to get her bearings. “Who said anything about being celibate?”
“I—”
His lips claimed hers, preventing them from spilling whatever second thoughts her mind had given them. By all rights, he should be having his own second, third, and fourth thoughts about starting any kind of relationship with her other than the fake one they had to show in public.
But he couldn’t bring himself to pull back from Sophie, and it had nothing to do with sex. He could just get his dick wet with anyone he wanted, whenever he wanted it.
It was her.
Sophie began softening, her body molding itself against his as she fisted the cotton of his T-shirt. He held her with one hand at her nape and the other grabbing her sweet arse through her thin pajama shorts.
He’d been sexually compatible with women before, but this was so much more. This was that chemistry everyone talked about. It had to be, because he felt like they could ignite or combust at any moment depending on what he tried mixing and when.
Sophie flattened her hands and pushed. She wasn’t strong enough to make him move, but he relented and pulled back. “Damn, but you set my blood on fire, woman,” he said, taking in a few deep breaths to calm himself down.
“I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Really? Because the way you were kissing me back felt like you think it’s a bloody fantastic idea.”
She pressed the heels of her hands to her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut as though it would spare her from the truth of the matter. “I know, and I’m sorry.”
“There’s no reason to be sorry for giving in to the chemistry sparking between us, Soph. Especially considering the situation we’re in.”
Wrapping her arms around her middle, she opened her eyes and stared at him with what appeared to be regret. “That’s exactly my point,” she said. “This…situation, is surreal to begin with. It’s hard to believe what we’re attempting to do. We’re already having to act like a couple when we’re outside these walls, and I think that if we add in a physical relationship—even if we agree it’s only physical—it’ll complicate things even if we don’t mean it to.”
Xander backed up—again—and took stock of where his head had been when they were kissing. A few moments ago, he’d let silly notions and his aching bollocks take the reins, practically leading him into the one fucking thing he didn’t need right now: a relationship, casual or otherwise. Thank Christ she had enough sense for the both of them and was strong enough to say it.
Imagining a sponge, he sucked all the warm and fuzzy feelings from his extremities until they were trapped, and then tossed it like so much rubbish into his mental bin.
“Right, okay,” he said. “I need to stay focused on my upcoming fight anyway. That’ll be hard to do when I know I have a willing partner twenty-four-seven. I’ll end up thinking of shagging more than my training.”
“Really?”
“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve never let myself be in a relationship while training seriously before. I hate losing, so I never took any chances.”
“Oh.” Sophie rubbed her hands over her bare arms as though she felt a chill, but he knew the temp in the flat was more than comfortable. “You know, I really respect your work ethic and dedication, Xander. It’s…refreshing.”
Now there was a compliment he didn’t hear everyday from a girl, if ever. Usually it had to do with his body or his blue eyes or his strength. Something superficial he’d heard a hundred times and had to work at not rolling his eyes whenever he heard them. And years ago, when he did try dating back in the UK, his work ethic and dedication weren’t something his girlfriends appreciated. They hated how much time he spent training and eventually demanded more of his attention.
It figured that Sophie would find it as something other than a character flaw. Then again, they weren’t in a real relationship. If they were, it’d only be a matter of time before she felt every bit as slighted as the women before her.
Still, none of that took the sting away from the fact that he was about to live under the same small roof for half a year with a woman he craved yet couldn’t touch. His balls were already aching just thinking about it.
“But refreshing doesn’t make you want to throw caution to the wind and let me toss you on that bed, does it?”
Sophie swallowed hard, then shook her head.
“Then I guess I’d better get used to cold showers.”
“Like I said, as long as you’re discreet, you can still be with other women.”
“O’course, yeah,” he said tightly. But even as he said it, he knew it for the lie it was. Xan wouldn’t be seeking out anyone, whether he could have Sophie or not, and he didn’t understand it for one bloody second. It didn’t make sense to turn into a monk for a woman who not only made it clear she was off-limits, but gave him permission to shag whomever he chose. There was a good chance he’d gone completely mad. All he knew for sure was that the idea of bedding someone other than Sophie right now held no appeal, and imagining her with another man made him downright agitated. And that was putting it politely.
He needed to work it off before he attempted sleep or there would be none to speak of.
“I think I’ll head out for a quick run,” he said. “Take your time getting settled.”
She looked like she wanted to say something, but then changed her mind and simply nodded. As Xander turned and strode out of the room, he wondered if he hadn’t gotten himself into a situation he would sorely regret.