Chapter 67 67
Maisie's Pov
I'd been texting Xavier from my bed. Or correctly, Roman was.
When Xavier first texted me, I showed it to Roman and he grabbed my phone. I didn't stop him. I knew he was jealous and pissed that I'd already sent Xavier my picture before passing the phone to him.
I smiled at the memory and sauntered to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. Roman had a meeting with his lawyers. Apparently, the case against Xavier had been reopened quietly. It would take a long time before Xavier would receive a notice from the court.
I pull out my phone to call Roman when my phone vibrates in my hand. I would ignore it, but then I catch a glimpse of the name of the man who refuses to be ignored under any circumstances.
It doesn’t help that I want to keep myself busy the entire day, just so I wouldn’t think about the next thing his defective mind might come up with.
Xavier : I want to see you. Can I?
Maisie : Right now?
Xavier : Is there any better time than now?
I grinned. “Location?”
Xavier : I'll come pick you up. Are you still at the pack?
Maisie : Yes.
Xavier : I'll be there in 10.
He got here 5 minutes later and drove to a penthouse on the beach. I didn't know about this property when we were married. Did he just get it?
“I bought it for you.” Xavier explained as we got out of the car.
I blinked. “You got this for me?”
“Why not?” He put his arm on the small of my back and led me inside. Then he told me to go change into something nice and gave me directions to the master bedroom.
When I arrived, my jaws dropped. Not because of the exquisiteness of the place. I've seen better. But because of the clothes in the walk-in-closet. All of them were exactly my size, the flats too. When did he memorize my body measurements? When I was his mate, he didn't care about any of that. Now, I was a stranger, he was this obsessed?
Men, very stupid creatures.
Xavier was plating the first decent pancake when I ambled into the kitchen.
I froze when I spotted him. My eyes drifted down his torso. His muscles were toned and ribbed but that wouldn't hold a candle to Roman. This man should throw on a shirt.
I rubbed my eye, letting the collar of my shirt slip off one shoulder, showing the smooth skin that’s there. There. That should teach him.
“Sit. I’ll bring you a plate,” it took everything in him to look away from me.
“Don’t treat me like a guest, Xavier,” I scolded him.
The sound of cupboards opening was the only noise in the kitchen besides the ticking clock. I tried my best not to roll my eyes when I shuffled on my tiptoes to find the right cupboard.
Xavier committed everything about me to memory except my height. Why the hell would he put the dishes pretty high when he built the house for me. I didn't talk like him or Roman.
I could feel his gaze burning my back and knew he was watching me. He let me try on my own until I lifted my leg to climb onto the counter. I heard him lower the heat of the stove to move behind me and it made me stumble into his chest.
“I could have reached them,” I muttered, sounding breathless from all that climbing.
He reached an arm around me to grab the stack of plates. “I think you mean thank you.”
I turned and my gaze caught mine, holding it for a beat. “Thank you, Xavier.”
He breaks our eye contact and focuses on plating my food. “You're welcome.”
“Are my pancakes smiling?” I asked, amused. I hadn’t realized he’d done it. The Xavier I knew would kill himself before he made anything with his hands from scratch or worse, add smiley faces to them. But here he was, making pancakes with smiley faces for me.
He followed me to the table and took a seat across from me. Before I could reach for the maple syrup to pour it on my pancakes, he snatched it. “I’ll do it.”
Xavier flipped the bottle to draw a swirl, but his aim ran askew, and the syrup coated my thumb.
My eyes widen as she assesses my blank expression. He did that on purpose.
“What? Want me to lick it off?” he looked at my throat and watched my Adam’s apple bob with what he thought was amusement and not disgust.
Then in a moment of what can only be called “a fault in judgement”, Xavier leaned forward, and bluff or not, the only thing I know for sure in that moment is I’m truly fucked.
He took my thumb in his mouth and sealed his lips around it. He hummed when his tongue touched the syrup and licked it clean.
Our eyes lock and I force myself not to throw up. Why the hell would he touch me like that?
Then he pulled back, releasing my finger with a pop.
I dropped my hand back to the dining table and made a mental note to wash and sanitize my entire right arm.
For the entirety of breakfast, I didn’t look at him, not even once, but he didn’t seem to take his eyes off me.
After breakfast, Xavier and I settled on the couch watching old movies. Xavier hated watching movies altogether but now, he was.
I sat beside him, my gaze shifting between his hand and mine. His fingers remained laced through mine, his thumb rubbing slow, possessive circles against my skin as if reminding himself that I was real. That I belonged to him.
I noticed he wasn't talking anymore and turned to him. “You've been quiet.”
He glanced at me with that familiar intensity. The one that used to thrill me. Now, it made my stomach churn.
“I want to tell you something I can't hold back on anymore.”
I blinked. “What?”
“I want to tell the world that you're mine.”
Love, real or imagined, had made him reckless. He hadn't just transferred his assets. He'd transferred everything leverage and control and now, he wanted to tell the world I was his? I wondered when he'd realize the truth.
“Baby, this is what you wanted, right?” he took my hand and gave it a light squeeze.
“I’m done hiding,” he said, pacing his office like. King rehearsing a speech. “You deserve recognition. Respect.”
My heart hammered in my chest. “Xavier…”
“I’ll introduce you properly,” he continued. “To the world as my partner.”
My smile felt brittle. “That's… sudden.”
He stopped pacing and faced me fully. “You said you accepted me.”
I held his gaze. “I did.”
“Then this changes nothing,” he said sharply. “unless you're afraid.”
Was I afraid? Of course not.
‘Stop lying to yourself, Maisie.’ my wolf told me. ‘You’re afraid of the lies unraveling and coming back to bite you.’
I shut her out and tilted my chin. “No. I'm not afraid.”
His expression softened. “Good. Shall we?”
I blinked again. “Now?”
“Yes,” he crouched before me and smiled. “We're telling the world right now.”