Page 93 of Xander

I blinked up at him, surprised, my lips parting and then closing.

“Say it,” he insisted.

He stared at me with such unnerving determination that I closed my eyes. There was something undeniable between us, but I didn’t know yet if it was love.

“I’m not him, Jordan,” he rasped, his words laced with pain. “I promise to give you everything you want. All you have to do is choose to love me.”

Choose?

Tears pricked my eyes at his choice of word. It made me feel so damn lonely for him. He wanted me to choose to love him, not realizing someone could fall deeply in love with a man like him even against their will. It made me remember the first time I had hugged him, only to realize later no one had comforted Xander before.

But he deserved better—someone who loved him of her own free will, not someone who chose to love him due to the adverse side effects of Stockholm Syndrome.

The irony was, what I felt for him so closely imitated the feeling that I thought it might be love. I just couldn’t be certain with the leash he put around my collar.

“I’ll give you everything, Jordan,” he dug his nose into my hair and spoke into it.

“My freedom, too?” I asked. It wasn’t until now I realized how desperately I needed him to tell me that he wouldn’t pursue my guardianship. Only then would I know whether this was real.

His eyes resembled two green oceans of exasperation. “That’s all you want, to get away from me?”

“I want a choice,” I whispered.

“You do have a choice⁠—"

“Only as long as I choose you.”

“Is that so bad?” he murmured, pushing into me again and making me moan.

“It can’t be love if there isn’t an option to choose otherwise,” I said softly.

He shook his head. “You have no idea how long I have waited for you. If I’m heavy-handed with you, it’s only because I’m terrified of living without you again.”

I wanted to believe him, to give in to the overwhelming desire I felt for him. But I also thought I loved Henry because I was never free to explore another emotion. Had Henry given me freedom, I would’ve known that I didn’t love the man. Xander deserved better. He deserved to hear those words after I was sure of them.

My silence had the opposite of the intended effect, and he ground harder against me until I could feel every inch of him inside me, claiming me. I tried to push him away, but he held me firmly in place, his breath hot against my skin.

“Say it already, Jordan,” he pleaded. “Tell me you love me.”

A part of me wanted to say the words, but his refusal to denounce the pursuit of conservatorship was dragging the most painful chapter of my life to the limelight. If he couldn’t promise to drop it, I couldn’t tell him I loved him.

He saw the conflict in my eyes and said something I never expected. “Lie to me.”

I frowned. “What?”

“Lie to me. Tell me you love me.”

“Xander—”

“Give me something to hold on to. Don’t tell me the one person I love more than anyone else in this world can’t even lie about loving me.” A gentle kiss on my lips was all it took to break down my walls completely.

“I love you.”

He closed his eyes as if he had waited eons to hear it and was savoring it. “Fuck. Say it again, baby, please.”

I didn’t know what compelled me to do it except it didn’t sound wrong—or dishonest—to utter the words. “I love you.”

His body contorted in the most primal display, his back arching as he thrust into me with a force that left me breathless. “More,” he grunted. “I need more. Tell me how long you’ve loved me.”