voice calm. “This is not the place.”
Xavier closed his eyes tightly, willed the rage that seemed to coat his insides away. But it was no use. He was pissed, and nothing anyone could say would make it better. “You bring this shit here? Like you didn’t play me for the whole world to see? What the hell is wrong with you?”
Ethan stepped forward, ice in his eyes. “Watch who you’re talking to?”
It wasn’t in Xavier’s nature to back down, so he glared at Ethan and took another step closer. “And what are you going to do about it?”
“You don’t want to start with me, X.” Ethan moved even closer.
“Get the fuck out of my face,” Xavier warned.
“Maybe you should have been mowing your own lawn. Then we wouldn’t be in this situation.”
Before Xavier could think about the consequences, he shoved Ethan away from him and right into the dessert table. Ethan stood promptly and rushed him, knocking Xavier on his back. He wasn’t sure how long they were fighting, or how many punches he’d delivered. But soon Garrett had his arms wrapped around X, holding him back, while Jax and Stewart, along with Naomi, were huddled over Ethan, who was on the ground.
Xavier slowly regained his focus, and scanned the room, noting all the disappointed and horrified faces staring back at him.
Skye stood in front of him, arms crossed and frown deadly. “Xavier, you’re out of control. Get out of here. Now.” She pointed toward the hallway leading to the kitchen.
Dropping his head, Xavier did as he was told and left the room. Shit.
* * *
Zara Reid had spent the better part of her day with one of her clients and his family, engrossed in the nuts and bolts of a brand-new, multimillion-dollar contract with the Atlanta Hawks. In the end, it was time well spent, because they left happy and she left with the honor of representing another talented young black athlete.
After a long day, she’d arrived at the Starkses’ home just in time to see Xavier beat the crap out of Ethan Porter, someone she’d been following for years and hoped to add to her client roster. She assumed the fight stemmed from the fact that his girlfriend had unceremoniously dumped her friend X without so much as a “good-bye, sucka.” And she hated to see Xavier go out like that.
As she stood at the entrance to the kitchen, she wondered how to approach one of her oldest friends. Should she pretend she hadn’t seen him engage in the battle for Naomi Murphy, in front of a slew of important guests and associates of Mr. Starks and the Pure Talent Agency. Or should I give him a high five, because the asshole deserved it?
Before she could make up her mind, X looked up and met her gaze. He blessed her with one of his beautiful smiles. “Zara? When did you get here?”
“Just in time to see the show.” Spurred into action, she walked over to the sink and grabbed a towel. She walked over to the freezer and scooped several ice cubes, dumping them onto the white cloth. Zara took a seat next to him at the kitchen table. “You need to put ice on that hand.”
Xavier set his bruised hand atop the towel. “I thought Skye would appear with a first-aid kit, but she abandoned me.” He chuckled. “Guess I deserve to be left alone.”
“She’s staying far away from you right now.” Zara giggled, thinking about her run-in with Skye in the hallway. Her best friend had given her a quick hug before she bolted back into the ballroom, muttering dirty curses along the way. “I saw Garrett leave.” Zara wrapped the cloth around X’s knuckles.
“He went to help settle things down.” He winced when she twisted his wrist to finish wrapping his hand up.
“Never a dull moment at the Starks holiday soiree.”
He grinned again, allowing her a glimpse at the dimple on his left cheek. “Right.”
She stared at him. The subtle gold pattern in his jacket matched his skin tone perfectly. His brown eyes were just as intense as they’d always been. And he smelled divine, like sweet apples and rich wood. One thing was for sure—Xavier Starks had grown into his looks. Sure, for years his face had been papered over the walls of teenage girls, but back then, he was just X. He was her annoying, cocky, smart but stupid, asshole-tendency neighbor. And now he was... still all of those things probably, with a hint of “fine as hell.”
“Stop staring at me, Zara,” he grumbled.
“You’re staring at me, too,” she responded.
“It’s been a minute.”
“Well, we’re both extremely busy.”
“Too much to do, so little time.”
“Exactly. Then, there’s the whole living two-thousand-miles-apart thing.”
He chuckled. “Ha. Right.”
Before Jax Starks had moved the headquarters of his company to Atlanta, the Starks family resided in the Los Angeles neighborhood of Brentwood. And Zara lived right next door with her father, pro-basketball player Alexander Reid, and her mother, Regine. She and her siblings had been introduced to Xavier and Skye on the day she and her family moved into her childhood home—the rest was history.
“I know I messed up, Zara,” he admitted softly.
Sighing, she finished her work. “I’m not here to beat you down. I’m just here to help.”
He dropped his head. “I tried hard to just let it go. But...” He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s whatever. I knew better, and I let them take me there.”
“I get it. I really do. I just wish you’d done it after the party, outside. Far away from your parents. The Youngs. The agency. The town.”
He laughed. “Thanks for not beating me down.”
“I’m just sayin’.” She bumped his knee with hers and winked at him when he met her gaze. “I probably would have done the same thing,” she admitted.
“If I recall correctly, you have done the same thing.”
“Oh, God,” she grumbled. “There is a time limit on these things. After twenty years, you’re not supposed to be able to bring that stuff up.”
“I’m sure Judy would rather forget about that fight. You mopped the floor with ole girl.”
Zara rolled her eyes. “That will teach her not to proposition someone else’s homecoming date. Women everywhere should consider that beat-down a public service. I’m sure it prevented her from becoming some man’s side chick.”
X barked out a laugh. “You’re silly.”
She sighed. “Seriously, I think you are right to feel devastated by this. It sucks to be hurt by the person you love.”
Xavier traced an invisible pattern on the table with his healthy hand. “I wouldn’t say that.”
Frowning, she asked, “Why not? You were going to propose, right? At least that’s
