Page 79 of Xander

I didn’t know my stomach had been swirling this whole time until he said it, and it finally settled. That feeling of nausea subsided, which couldn’t be a good sign if I was this affected by a few girls vying for Xander’s attention.

Fuck. What was happening to me?

Jasper had picked up on it, too. I felt his quiet eyes warming the side of my face.

I didn’t know what he thought of my inability to look away from his brother or of Xander dedicating the goal to me, but I could no longer find it in me to care. I knew at that moment Xander had been waiting to share this part of his life with me, and I didn’t want to miss a second of it.

Xander was having the game of his life, and I was incredibly honored to witness it. It was only the first period of an unimportant game, but he played like it was the deciding game of the Stanley Cup Finals.

By the second period, he had scored another goal and then another, resulting in a hat trick. The fans thundered with excitement, and there seemed to be a customized cheer made up for the Trojan Warrior. Like a zombie, I chanted his name as his fans threw their hats onto the ice in honor of his hat trick.

This time, Xander raised his stick to me, and the camera zoomed in, displaying Jasper’s and my face on the jumbotron. The announcer recognized Jasper from previous games. He commented that Maxwell was playing exceptionally well this evening with the support of his family, thankfully attesting the hat trick to both of our presence in the audience, not just mine.

However, those three goals didn’t satiate Xander’s bloodlust. He returned for the third period with such a vengeance that Jasper finally asked, “Do you know if everything’s okay with Xander? He’s playing kind of intense tonight.”

I couldn’t find it in me to lie, so I asked him a question of my own. “Has he ever played like this before?” For the first time, I peeled my eyes off Xander and spared a glance in Jasper’s way.

He searched my face. I had a sneaking suspicion that he knew something wasn’t right between me and his brother, but if I knew Jasper, he wouldn’t embarrass me by bringing it up. “He has never played like this before,” he said.

My gaze returned to the ice, unwilling to dissect Jasper’s comment.

I was also under Xander’s spell and didn’t want to miss a thing. A comet could’ve hit us then, and I wouldn’t know the difference. I was on my feet, hypnotized like the rest of the fans, and screamed his name as he scored the last game-winning goal of the evening.

Chapter

Twenty-Five

JORDAN

The security guards suggested that Jasper should head home, but as Xander’s PR representative, I should stick around for the post-game press conference. However, Xander was speedy with the press, and he practically ditched them to rush us to his car.

I decided not to contradict him, adamant about maintaining cordiality. Throughout the day, I heard endless praise and adoration for him and caught a glimpse of the man I once knew. He was a stand-up guy, and it made me question whether his recent actions were intentionally malicious or merely misguided.

He accused me of fighting him at every turn. Perhaps instead of provoking him, I could use empathy to guide him into making the right decision.

Except Xander was dead quiet on the drive home. For a man who played the game of his life, this seemed abnormal. Something was bothering him, I could tell.

“Great game today. Congrats.”

He nodded but added nothing more to the conversation.

“You were phenomenal.”

His eyes flicked to me. They warmed before he said a sly, “Thanks.”

“Should I put some music on?” I asked, desperate to break the silence.

He shrugged, though his body language suggested he preferred the quiet. I picked at a loose thread that was beginning to unravel on the hem of the jersey.

“I think I might pick up food from Jacquard’s,” he mused, speaking into the hush. “I’m guessing you haven’t had dinner yet.”

“They brought me food at the stadium,” I protested.

“You hate bar food,” he commented offhandedly, and I blinked in surprise. Did he notice me picking at my food last night? “Jacquard’s has good takeout. Jasper likes it, too.”

I nodded absentmindedly, suddenly liking the idea. I couldn’t remember the last time Jasper enjoyed a family meal because Henry always tore into him every time he came over for dinner. While I appreciated my time with Jasper tonight, his presence had been rare in my life after he turned eighteen. I didn’t blame him for not visiting or for not wanting to be around his father. Perhaps it was time to create some new memories for him, sans Henry.

“I can cook something,” I offered, surprising us both.