Chapter 32

Xander's POV

Allison is sitting with her hands on her lap, fiddling with her fingers. Is she nervous because I saw her in one of the dresses I bought, or because of something else?

"I was right about the dress," I say. "It suits you."

I'm partly saying this to reassure her and stop her from feeling nervous, but I truly mean it, even more than I realized.

The dress hugs her curves in all the right places, and the deep blue color brings out the lovely flecks of gold in her warm brown eyes.

A red hue spreads on Allison's cheeks in response to my words, crawling up her ears. She looks up from the hands resting on her lap and turns her gaze on me.

"You think so?" she asks.

Really, the sort of questions she asks, as if the answers aren't obvious.

"Of course I do," I reply. "You should dress like this more often, if it doesn't make you uncomfortable."

She ducks her head shyly, biting her lower lip. Golden blonde hair falls in a shiny long curtain over her face, hiding it from view.

I want to brush it away from her face. I want to kiss the places where her cheeks have turned red.

Get a grip, Xander, I tell myself, clenching my hands tighter on the steering wheel.

Have you forgotten already that you vowed not to let yourself fall in love with Allison?

"Um… Xander?" Allison calls.

"Yes?" I reply, turning to her.

She's peeking at me through a curtain of that soft, sun-kissed hair, and it's more adorable than I'm prepared for. Does she know how much I dream of that hair? How much I dream of running my fingers through it for as long as I want to?

"Don't get me wrong," she's saying, "I'm grateful to you for giving me a ride, but if you don't mind… I mean, I was just surprised to see you at my neighborhood."

“Oh, that," I respond. "I just happened to be driving through the area. Then I saw you and your friend trying to flag down a taxi and thought you might appreciate the help. Fortunate, isn't it?"

"Yes," she replies, smiling gratefully.

It makes me feel like a terrible person, because this is Allison, and I've just lied to her. It was not a coincidence that I was there when she needed a ride, but I really can't bring myself to tell Allison that I was driving down her street, hoping for a glimpse of her face. That would send her running as fast as she can in the opposite direction, and I wouldn't blame her.

But I don't want her to run away from me. I don't want Allison to be afraid of me.

"So, your friend said you were going to the bakery?" I ask. "Which one?"

Again, that beautiful flush spreads through her face.

"Um…" she says. "I'm actually not going to a bakery. I was planning to just get driven around, but she probably thought you wouldn't take it seriously if she said that."

She peers up at me through long lashes, still biting her lip, and my heart skips a beat.

"It's fine, actually," I reply, hoping I don't sound breathless. "If you want to drive around the town, then that's what we'll do."

And so we do.

It's dangerous to admit, even to myself, just how much I love these rides with Allison. Getting to watch her feel and express pure joy is an experience that feels almost holy.

"We could stop anywhere you want," I say.

She turns away from the window, which her nose has been pressed against like that of an excited child, and looks at me with stars in her eyes.

"Really?!" she squeals, as if I've just offered her all the wealth in the world.

I'm unable to hold back my smile.

"Really," I say.

Her answering smile is so bright, it could have lighted up a whole room. I have to remind myself not to stare like a lovesick sheep.

"Then," she says, "let's stop at the fountain from last time."

……

I can't unsee the way Allison's whole face lights up the moment she sets her eyes on the fountain. She's out of the car the second she can, and instantly plants herself in front of it and closes her eyes in bliss. The last time we were here, I stayed in the car. But this time, I decide to step out and join her in front of the fountain.

Allison must have felt my presence beside her, because she opens her eyes and turns to look at me, only for her mouth to drop open as well.

"Xander…" she says, her eyes wide.

"I thought I might see what has you so excited about this fountain," I reply.

"Um…" she says, looking sheepish. "I find it kind of beautiful, and most people say that's weird, and I didn't know it was weird and I can't stop finding fountains beautiful just because it's weird and it's okay if you don't see why I—"

"It is beautiful," I say, looking up at the water as it sprouted in a silver arc.

Allison is still rambling nervously, but she stops as soon as her mind registers that.

"It is?" she asks hopefully. "You think so too?"

"Of course," I respond, but my eyes are on her. The wind in her hair, the sun in her smile, the sparkle in her eyes. Suddenly, I'm not sure I'm talking about the fountain anymore.

"Really beautiful," I add.

I want to kiss her, is all I can think.

Something in my tone must have given me away, because Allison draws in a startled breath. Her eyes go wider, color flooding her cheeks. She licks her lower lip, her eyes still locked on my face. I don't think she realizes that she's doing it, though.

With another woman it would have been a calculated seduction. But not Allison.

My gaze tracks the movement of her tongue over her lips, and I watch her shiver slightly as the extent of my desire hits her, her lips parting around a silent gasp.

I want her. I want to take her into my arms and kiss her until all I can taste is her, and I don't give a damn what consequences there could be, at this point.

I'm already stepping closer. Allison doesn't step away. Her hands are at her sides, clenching fistfuls of her flair dress, and her eyes are fixed on mine. They're still wide, but not with fear. Rather, with expectation.

Could it be… that she wants me like I want her?

A sudden wail of pain cuts into the moment. Allison spins away immediately, hurrying to the child who had tripped and fallen. I get the feeling that she's carefully not looking at me. Not that I blame her.

As I watch her pat the child's head and whisper soothing words to him, I'm filled with the need to slap myself really hard.

What had I been thinking? 

Not caring about the consequences? I think, sneering bitterly at myself. Really, Xander? In my selfishness, I forgot what would happen to Allison if people saw us kissing out in the open, in broad daylight.

I have to stop this. It doesn't matter how much I want her or how much she might want me. If I truly care about Allison, then I can never act on these feelings. I certainly can't repeat the reckless behavior from just now.

I cannot let myself love Allison. All it will do is hurt her.

But you already love her, my mind whispers.

But I already love her, and it hurts like nothing I've ever felt before.