His eyes sweep to mine and our gazes lock. He turns, leans slightly forward as if considering picking up the shirt, then decides differently. “Ivy.” He says my name not as a question, not as a statement, not in surprise. It’s sensual, full of longing; it’s a sound I remember from him, from before, and one I could never forget.
I feel pummeled by his rugged good looks—God, he has a face that would melt any woman’s heart. His pale but intense hazel eyes, the sprinkling of stubble across his chin, the lushness of his lips, and the wave of his thick brown hair that always had me itching to run my fingers through it—all features any woman would pine for. I take a step in, letting the door slam against the slide bar behind me. Neither of us says a word. The burn of his stare has me longing to escape the intensity of the moment. I let my gaze slip but feel my lips part—and his do the same. I lower my lids and immediately notice the way his jeans sit so low on his hips, and a shiver runs down my spine. Then something more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen catches my attention. At first it looks like a tribal design running vertically down his right side, but as I narrow my eyes on it I can see it’s a straight line of black inked letters.
Gasping, I slowly cross the room. I stand in front of him, trembling. I touch my shaky fingers to his bare skin, to the R right at the apex of his rib cage. It’s warm beneath the pads of my fingers, and my body is electrified at the feel of his skin against mine. Xander looks down at my hand, and I peek up at him. His face is completely unreadable. It’s filled with an emotion I’ve never seen. But when he nearly loses his balance from the contact, I think he’s feeling what I’m feeling—euphoric. Shuffling his feet, he recovers quickly. His head remains bowed and his chest rises and falls rapidly as I carefully trace each one of the letters. Every letter is a work of art, forming the phrase—
Tears fall and sobs I can’t control escape me as I place my trembling finger on the tiny ivy leaf, the mark used instead of an accent to stress the E. It’s only then that his gaze falters. His eyes flutter closed when I touch him there. Then I drop my hand and his eyes open.
“When did you get this?” My voice dips low, but I manage to get the words out.
He’s gazing down at me. His voice is deep and sexy in the dim room. “Right after you left for Chicago. If I couldn’t have you, I wanted to always have a part of you.”
“Why? Why would you do that?” My voice quavers as I ask.
He inhales a deep breath and sighs. “Because I loved you and knew I always would.”
All the tension I’ve been feeling. All the pain and anger I’ve held on to. I blurt it all out in what I believe to be the truth. “No, no you didn’t. You didn’t want me. You wanted her. This”—I say, drawing a line down his tattoo—“doesn’t make any sense.”
His hand grasps my waist. “Ivy, I have something to tell you.”
I pull away and he lets me. “Tell me what?”
“It wasn’t me that night.”
“Xander, this is why I didn’t want to discuss our past. Please don’t lie.”
Everything about him goes rigid. The intensity in his eyes grows even stronger. He pauses for a moment, then almost hisses, “I’ve never lied to you, Ivy. Ever. And I NEVER will.” He puts emphasis on the word never.
I take a step backward toward the door. Afraid—afraid he’s lying . . . afraid he isn’t. Everything about that night suddenly comes crashing back—everything I’ve fought so hard to forget.
His fingers tuck a piece of hair behind my ear as he says, “I was an asshole then. I let you believe things I shouldn’t have.”
“Things like what?” I squeak out.
He pauses, then asks, “What did you see that night?” The question comes out quiet, sounding almost sad.
I move back. Certain about what I saw, but suddenly unsure about the facts, trying to remember everything. “I saw your car parked in the driveway, and when I went around back I heard voices. I looked in the window and saw Tessa’s face almost staring back at me, so I turned and ran.”
Xander let out a low, shuddering breath. “It wasn’t me with Tessa that night. That wasn’t me in the pool house. River took my car. He was the one with Tessa.”
I look at his face now, into his eyes—and truth is all I see. “Why would you let me believe it was you?”
He shrugs. “Fuck, I don’t know. I was confused. I didn’t know what to do and I was mad.”
I’m shaking from head to toe. “You were mad? Why would you be mad?”
He steps forward and runs his fingers down my arm. His mouth thins. “Why would you automatically think I cheated?”
“Because we were apart for so long. I just thought you couldn’t wait.”