Audrey.
The drive becomes silent as I direct the stranger to Big Ben’s Diner. I keep sneaking glances at his face and my heart rate increases every time. The atmosphere in the car is tense and I know I'm the reason for that. But when he said, “...striking gray eyes,” all I could think of was Brandon slamming my head on his desk last night and growling, “...those gray eyes of yours were a problem…” After a while, I decide to break the ice. “You never told me your name.” “Well, you never asked. It's Xavier.” I nod as I turn my gaze back to the road. Xavier. It fits him. *** “What should I get for you?” My attention shifts to Xavier as he unstraps his seat belt and I realize we're at the diner already. “I'll take blueberry muffins, thank you,” I reply quietly. “And drink?” “Just water.” Then I remove the hundred dollar bill that has been stashed in my pocket since yesterday and extend it to him. He appears insulted and he scoffs as he gets out of the car and slams the door. I lean against my seat and pocket the note again. Well, I tried. I have never been a fan of asking for favors from people. Ever since I left the Saints’ Orphanage five years ago, I have learnt the hard way that favors are not freely given. I shift uncomfortably on the leather seat. My ass still aches from last night. I'm sure it's bruised, although I've been too scared to check it out. The door opens again and he enters, stretching a box to me. I give him a silent thanks and don't waste time tearing the box open. Grabbing a muffin, I stuff it in my mouth. It somehow gets stuck in my throat and I'm embarrassed as I start choking. I rummage through the nylon, trying to grab the bottle water when he stretches a cup of milkshake to me. I gulp it down immediately and I don't stop until half the content in the large cup is gone. “Thank you,” I tell him. I'm sure I'm bright red already, so I avoid eye contact with him. He starts the car and sooner than I expect, we're back at the Golden Bar. For some reason, I don't want to leave the car. After all, Brandon is out of town till night. “Audrey…” he says and I realize I like the way my name rolls off his tongue. “I'm sorry if I seemed like an asshole when we first met. I know I've said some shitty things I can't take back, and I'm sorry.” I glance at him and sure enough, he looks apologetic. My breath seizes in my throat and I feel my chest tightening from the simple apology. I can't remember the last time someone apologized to me. I'm always the one apologizing. And so, I thank him. Because he doesn't know how much I need that. Hell, I didn't even know how much I needed to hear it, not until now. “Do you need to go back now?” I ask him. In my heart, I'm hoping he'll stay. It'll be nice to spend some time with him. “No. What do you have in mind?” he asks. I blush as he turns his full attention to me. “Nothing really. I just thought, maybe… you know… I… uhm–” “Hey…” He rests his hand on my thigh and my breath seizes as I feel the heat of his palm. “What is it? Talk to me.” I take a deep breath, “Can you stay with me, just for a while? Before you have to leave?” He smiles and I notice his dimples. My heart flutters. “Sure, Audrey. Whatever you want.” I reply with a smile of my own before glancing down at my lap where his hand still rests. He must have read my expression wrong because he removes his hand and I feel the loss instantly. I avoid his gaze as I unwrap another muffin and bite into it, staring out the window. We both eat our breakfast in tense silence. I'm not a big talker but right now, I'm scrambling my brain for words to say. Thankfully, his phone rings. “Excuse me, I have to take this. It's work,” he explains and I nod. He comes down from the car and walks a short distance to take the call. I have barely resumed eating when he slides into his seat. Immediately, I notice his mood has changed. His jaw is clenched and he's running his hand through his hair. “Is everything alright?” I ask. “No.” He slams his hands on the steering wheel and I jump in my seat. He glances at me briefly before burying his face in his hands. “Fuck…” he mutters. I don't know what to do, so I just sit and watch him, my heart racing. After a while, he calms down and raises his head, staring at nothing. “Do you want to talk about it?” I ask him. “Do you want to talk about what happened last night?” He retorts and I wince from his harsh tone. Point taken. He lets out a long breath. “I'm sorry. That was uncalled for,” he apologizes. I nod and start gathering the box of muffins, preparing to get out of his car. I know when I'm not wanted and there's no use sticking around and waiting for him to tell me himself. “Wait, Audrey.” I stop and turn to him. He's closer than I expect and his hand reaches out to cup my chin. I unconsciously lean in closer and close my eyes, all thoughts of leaving his car forgotten. My entire body hums from the touch. It's like I've been starved of human affection for so long that this small measure I've been given seems like a whole lot to me. “Look at me,” he whispers and I open my eyes. His green eyes convey so much emotions as they meet mine but the one that stands out the most is desire. I'm still trying to decipher the rest of his emotions when he asks, “Can I kiss you?” I'm shocked and my eyes go wide as I try to process the question. There's no way he wants to kiss me, I'm sure. I imagine what he must be seeing; a disheveled girl looking at him with stars in her eyes. I shudder at the thought of how hideous I look. Xavier pulls back from me and runs his hands through his hair. He blows out a deep breath through his mouth. Suddenly, I want his hand back on me and I can't help but imagine his soft red lips on mine. What have I got to lose anyway? Nothing. He turns back to me as he says, “Shit. I'm sorry, Audrey. I just—” I don't let him complete his words before I pull him back to me and press my lips against his. He is unresponsive at first and just when I contemplate saving myself from the embarrassment of him pulling away, he groans as his lips part my own. One warm hand cups my cheek while the other fists my hair and pulls me closer. I gasp the moment he tugs my bottom lip into his mouth, every nerve ending I had crackling with need. I suck on his lip as I press my body closer to him, my hands still clutching at his shoulders. His lips are as soft as I thought, and he tastes like the muffins—sweet and delicious. His tongue pushes into my mouth and I allow it, sucking it into my mouth and moaning loudly at the heat that courses through my body. It feels so right to open myself to him and suddenly, I want to offer him every inch of my skin—the column of my neck, the space between my breasts, my inner thighs… everywhere. When we finally pull apart, we’re both panting heavily as he rests his forehead on mine with a groan and whispers, “Fuck, Audrey.” He finally sits back in his seat and I relax against mine, staring ahead as heat colors my cheeks. I just kissed Xavier. My chest tightens as I feel the dampness in my pants. It's been so long since I felt aroused. I was already beginning to think that something has gone wrong with my body system. I'm so immersed in my thoughts that I don't notice the tightening of Xavier's jaw or the clench in his fists until he speaks, grabbing my attention. “I need to leave.” It stings me a lot more than I would like to admit. Is this what rejection feels like? “Okay,” I whisper as I bend to carry the box of muffins. It has fallen down sometime during our kiss—the kiss that clearly means more to me than Xavier. Of course, it doesn't mean anything to him. I bet he kisses supermodels all the time. Tears sting behind my eyes as I wait for Xavier to say something. Anything. “Will I see you again?” I whimper. Obviously, I like torture because why can't I just leave with my head held high? “I'm leaving town right now, Audrey. That's what the call was about.” He's 'leaving' leaving? And suddenly, I don't feel so good. My stomach churns and I get out of his car like the seat is on fire, as I hurl the contents of my stomach on the grass.Xavier.I pick up my phone and text Carla.Xavier: Not coming in today. Push anything important. If something needs my attention, just text.She replies in under a minute.Carla: Alright, boss.I toss the phone on the kitchen counter and exhale.Audrey is still in the bathroom, the sound of running water soft in the background. I can picture her standing in front of the mirror, brushing her teeth, trying to make sense of everything. Or maybe trying not to.I head to the fridge.Breakfast is nothing fancy. Just toast, eggs, a bit of avocado. I brew coffee while the pan sizzles behind me. I don’t try to impress. I just want it to feel normal. Easy.But even as I set the table, I keep replaying the conversation from earlier. My voice. Her silence. The way her shoulders dropped—just a little, but I noticed.I should’ve asked her first.I thought about it, actually. Right before I called Tristan to tell him she wasn’t coming in anymore. I knew she’d argue. Knew she’d insist she needed the
Audrey. I wake up to light. Soft, quiet morning light spilling through cream curtains and warming my skin. The bed is warm too—sheets cocooned around me, faint scent of bergamot clinging to the pillows. I smile. He carried me. I don’t remember getting into bed. Which means he must’ve lifted me from the couch sometime last night and brought me here. I should feel embarrassed. But all I feel is… safe. Still lying down, I turn to the other side. And there he is. Xavier. Asleep. I don’t move. His face is relaxed, the lines of worry smoothed out in his sleep as he breathes softly and steadily. His lashes are thick, resting against his cheekbones as his hair covers part of his face. His lips are soft and full and so red and right now, they are parted slightly in a gentle pout. He looks unfairly beautiful in a way that makes stare at him. I know I shouldn’t. But I do. The way the sunlight cuts across his jaw reminds me of the very first time I saw him. That night at
Xavier. Lunch—if we’re still calling it that—is long over. I only keep using the word because Audrey did. But the sun’s already sinking behind the skyline, painting the city in a bright gold color. It’s well past 6 p.m. already, and the only thing that’s stopped me from pushing the conversation is her deflection. “It’s bad table manners to talk while eating,” she’d said, eyes lowered, tone too light to be real. I’d just raised a brow at her. Since when did we give a damn about table manners? But I didn’t press. Not yet. I had made lunch, quick but efficient: saffron risotto with scallops, topped with a drizzle of lemon butter and microgreens. Something that tastes like it took hours but really just needed patience. The kind of dish you pair with a glass of chilled Chardonnay and pretend everything is fine. As we ate, Audrey barely touched her wine. After the last bite, she stood, quiet as a breath, and reached for the dishes. I waved her off. “I’ve got it.” She hes
Audrey.Sometimes I think if Xavier knew everything, he’d stop looking at me the way he does.Like I’m good. Like I’m worth saving.Like all this—the way he hovers near me, the way he touches me so carefully, the way he texts me just to ask if I’ve eaten—is because he loves me.But he doesn’t really know me. Not the full version. Not the ugly, scarred, cracked-open pieces that had to survive long before Brandon ever happened.He knows the aftermath. The bruises and the blood. The hospital photos, the scars I couldn’t hide. But that’s just a chapter. There’s a whole damn book before that, and most of it doesn’t have happy endings.Xavier doesn’t know the things I’ve done. The people I’ve tricked. The way I’ve used my body just to stay warm, just to eat, just to make it through the night. He doesn’t know how survival can twist a person into something unrecognizable—and how easy it is to become numb when no one is watching.He thinks he loves me. But he’s in love with the part of me that
Xavier.My phone vibrates on the desk for the fourth time in twenty minutes and I’m on it like a fucking reflex.Still nothing from her.No reply. No call back. Just silence.I stare at the message again, like maybe if I look long enough, I’ll be able to conjure a response out of thin air.I had sent the message around 11:02 AM. And it’s 12:18 now.I tell myself she’s busy. The café might be full. Lattes and customer complaints. Maybe she forgot to charge her phone. Maybe she saw the text and just didn’t feel like replying yet.But the longer the silence stretches, the tighter my chest feels.I try calling her once.No answer.I let ten minutes pass, checking the screen every thirty seconds, then I call again.Still nothing.A darker voice in my head—the one I thought I’d shut up last night—starts whispering all kinds of possibilities I don’t want to hear.I shove my phone into my pocket, grab my keys, and head out. If she’s not answering, I’ll take lunch to her. Simple.I’m halfway t
Audrey.The café smells like cinnamon and espresso, and I’m trying not to smile like an idiot while wiping down the pastry display. Talia is currently behind the register, her eyes boring into me like twin lasers.“So?” she says, dragging the words out. “You didn't come home last night. And you’re wearing Xavier's clothes. I need details.”I pretend not to hear her, leaning lower to adjust the scones. “We got back late, and then we slept. I told you this already.”“I know, I know. My question is, did you sleep with him though?”I straighten up too fast and nearly knock over the entire tray of almond croissants.Talia grins, wicked and satisfied. “That’s not a no.”My face burns, and I busy myself with reorganizing the muffins, like their perfect alignment is a national emergency.“I’m not talking about this here.”“This here is where I work, live, and gossip. You don’t get a free pass, missy. Especially not when you saunter in this morning looking like you got thoroughly rearranged.”