“Well, I want you to listen to me. Listen carefully. I might be afraid of your mother, but I will take her on because of what my heart says about you. She will hate me. I know that. She will want to get me away from you. I know that, too. But I don’t care if she’s the queen or your mother. I know what I want, and I want you so much. I will fight for you no matter what she says about me because my heart loves yours. I love you, and that’s all that matters.”
There. That feels so good! My heart has spoken.
Xander lets out a breath. A surprised expression passes over his face, and he remains silent.
I squint to try and see him better. Is it my vision, or are his eyes teary?
“Do you hate that I love you?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No,” he says, his voice thick. “I don’t.”
“Okay, cool, you don’t have to say it back. I know you might not mean it, and I would rather you say it when you mean it.”
Hmm. Words are coming out faster now. Interesting.
Xander swallows hard but says nothing.
“It’s only been a few weeks, but I know, and you don’t have to know, and that is okay. Oh! We were talking about the dress. I won’t get one. I won’t go. To the wedding. I’ll go shopping, though. The whole plan depends on me shopping or Bella won’t do it, and this is all about Bella. Camden is stupid, by the way. Why are you friends with someone so stupid?”
He chuckles and runs a hand over my hair. “Camden was me before you—that’s why.”
“Lord, you were stupid then,” I say, giggling.
Now, he laughs loudly. “I was.” Then he goes serious. “Poppy, you will have any dress you want when you go shopping, do you hear me?”
“Pfft, I can’t. I’ll show you my bank statement. One of those dresses is like … my month’s pay. Maybe two months. That’s a stupid amount of money, don’t you think?”
“Let’s talk about this later,” he says.
“Let’s talk about it never. It hurts my heart to think I could embarrass you.”
“Poppy, please don’t ever say that again,” Xander says, sliding a hand up to my face and holding me still. “Promise me you won’t repeat that. It’s not true.”
“But it is. You mean so much to me—did you hear what I said about my heart? That I love you?”
Xander remains silent. I’m about to ask if he’s listening when he finally answers me.
“I did,” he says quietly.
Oh, good, I’m glad he is listening! Whew.
“I know you might not feel the same way, and it’s crazy that my heart is telling me all these things about you, and I want you to know them,” I say, gazing up at him.
“I do know them,” he says, turning and taking one of my hands in his so we can walk. “You don’t have to say anything else tonight, sweetheart. Gin is talking for you now.”
“No, no, it’s not the gin,” I protest.
Xander doesn’t say anything as we reach the gate to his home. He puts his hand on it to open it, but I put my hand over his to stop him.
“I do love you,” I say, my voice loud and clear. “I do, and gin isn’t making me say that.”
“I … I believe you,” he says, his voice low and rough. “I do.”
I nod. “Good. Now I won’t bring it up anymore.”
Xander opens the gate and escorts me to the front door. Soon, we’re in the house, and I walk towards the lovely front room that is so dark and masculine, and every inch of it reminds me of Xander. I go over to his desk, which is filled with papers.
“Were you working?” I ask.
Xander raises a hand to the back of his neck and scratches it as he nears me. I pop up and sit on the edge of his desk, deciding I don’t want to talk about feelings anymore.
“I was. Studying for a class.”
“On a Friday night? How dreadfully boring,” I say, smiling at him. “I think it’s time you did something fun.”
“I think you need to go to bed,” Xander counters.
I giggle. “I’m not sleepy.”
“But you’re drunk,” he says, smiling gently at me.