Xander

My mouth is dry and parched and I’m desperate for a drink. Or maybe I need a break from all the talking. I’d never anticipated telling anyone this and have spent my entire life sucking it up, pretending it didn’t bother me.

To try to please my father, I spent a lot of years going down the route of being the rich playboy without a care in the world. The one who wouldn’t think twice about doing whatever he wanted, no matter the consequences.

It may have made my father happy, but it sure left me feeling pissed off at the world. And at him.

But nothing pissed me off as much as what he did to Luna.

“I’m dying of thirst,” I say and kiss Elsie’s hair. “Let’s check out the kitchen.”

“You can’t just drop that bombshell and change the subject,” Elsie says, bewildered.

“Sure I can.”

“Fine, but only because I’m in a generous mood since you made me feel so good. But you’re definitely telling me more later.”

“Maybe. Let’s find the kitchen.”

“Hopefully there is some kind of food to eat. We didn’t get lunch and I’m also starved. Except my legs are still like jelly and I’m not sure I want to get up and walk yet.”

“Get used to the feeling.”

“So you keep promising, let’s see if you can deliver,” Elsie says with a coy smile.

“You have reason to doubt me?”

She rolls over and sits herself up before pushing herself into a standing position. She looks down at me, her hands on her hips and says, “Let’s go eat.”

“Now who’s avoiding questions?” I say and spring off the sofa. She quirks an eyebrow at me as I pull on my boxer shorts.

“I don’t have anything to put on.”

“Fine by me, but you can always put on your thong.”

“And I guess I can put back on my work clothes.”

“Fuck that shit, I want to see that supermodel body of yours,” I say and run my hands over her hips and waist.

Elsie laughs and pulls on her thong. I lace my fingers through hers and we wander out of the room.

“I still can’t get over this place,” Elsie says, craning her neck into each of the rooms we pass.

“It’s okay, but I’m not into the antiques. I prefer something more casual,” I say.

“If by casual you mean my cramped one-bedroom apartment that’s furnished from IKEA.”

“As long as you are in it, I don’t need anything else.”

We arrive at the back of the house. The kitchen stretches off to the left of the central hallway. It’s modern, thankfully, but made to look old. I open the stainless-steel freezer and a bag of chicken nuggets tumbles out.

“Good thing it’s fully stocked,” I say, rummaging through the haphazardly stored heaps of frozen food in search of some orange juice.

Elsie takes two glasses from one of the dark wood cupboards and fills them up with tap water. She sets one on the granite counter beside the freezer and takes a drink from the other.

“Thanks,” I say and grab the glass. I’m so thirsty that once the water hits my mouth I can’t stop and I down it in one long gulp. The relief coats my throat which is raw from my confessions.

“Anything good in there?” Elsie asks.

“I can’t see anything, you look and see,” I say, trying to hide my smirk.

Elsie steps in front of the freezer and her nipples instantly harden into little pink bullets. I’m momentarily transfixed by them, and I can’t help leaning over and licking them. If we hadn’t just finished fucking, I’d sit her on the counter and make her scream. I make a mental note to do it to her here later.

“I can see right through your little have-Elsie-dig-in-the-freezer plan,” she says, tilting her head sideways at me and quirking a brow. She steps back to the sink area and says, “What’s for lunch?”

“Frozen lasagna,” I say, taking two single-serving lasagnas out and setting them on the counter.

“I’m so hungry I’d eat anything,” she says, ripping them from the cardboard boxes and flinging them into the microwave.

“I can see you’re a regular domestic goddess,” I say, my eyebrows raised.

“This is what real life looks like,” she says and laughs.

“Good, I can’t wait to live a normal life with lovingly prepared frozen lasagna and eat it while sitting in my cramped room on my IKEA sofa.”

“Make that used IKEA sofa,” she says, emphasizing the word used.

“Yes, I’m well aware of how privileged my life has been. But as long as my father isn’t ass fucking my pretend second mother in the next room while she screams about how big his dick it is, I’ll be happy.” My eyes shift to the floor as I try to block all the memories.

Elsie runs a hand down my arm and takes my empty glass. She refills it, looking out the kitchen window. “Wow, look at the swimming pool.”

Glancing out the window, I see the swimming pool surrounded by natural stone landscaping along with the waterfall and slide made from an artificial stone hill.

I make a mental note and put it on my list. I figure we can cover this entire house before the media coverage goes away.

“Guess what we’re doing after lunch?” I joke.

“If you call this lunch, it’s almost dinnertime.”

I bring my body close against hers and say, “This house is timeless, time has no meaning in our little refuge.”

She looks up at me with that natural smile that lights up her face and I pull her into me and told her tight. We stand in a motionless dance and I can’t stop thinking about having her in my life and what the future is going to look like.

I want to be crazy and move her into my New York apartment right away. What’s the point of delaying? She’d better not want to stay in New Jersey.

Hell, who am I kidding. New York is the place that’s killing me. Maybe I should make Trenton my new home.

The microwave sounds an angry, urgent beep and Elsie extracts herself from my arms to stop it. I find two plates and knives and forks while she takes the food out. Taking the hot container from her, I dump it upside-down onto one of the plates.

“There’s real life in action,” Elsie laughs.

“I told you I can be real around you,” I say, grinning and take the other container from her and repeat the action on my plate.

With our plates in hand, we walked to the far end of the room and sit at the round antique table.

Neither of us says anything as we eat our food. I try to slow down but I’m starving and inhale my lasagna. Elsie is too busy stuffing her own face, and I can’t help smiling. Never in my life have I seen a woman eat like that. It’s the best sight in the world.

Not that she’s eating like a pig, she’s eating like she’s hungry. Like all that matters are that she stops being hungry and not that she’s conscious about me sitting here and worried about me judging her.

It’s the constant judging that gets to me the most.

Everyone judges everyone all the time. Although I ended up judging people based on what category poser they were, not how skinny their waist was or how many people they’d fucked and discarded.

Elsie finishes and pushes her plate away. She takes another gulp of her water and says, “I feel much better now.”

“Good, you’re going to need some energy,” I say, staring at her pert nipples.