For example, just how extravagant he was. From his car, to his clothes, to his fucking furniture, there was nothing subtle with this guy. Everything was designer or top dollar. Not that I cared. Xander could do whatever the hell he wanted with his money—God knew he had truckloads of it—but I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that the scrawny little kid that grew up next door to us, and still trekked out to the burbs for a barbecue every weekend, was the same guy who lived in this modern-day castle.
It was baffling.
“So? Your poison?” Xander asked for the second time tonight. “Beer? Wine?”
“A water’s fine, thanks.” His place had already made my head spin, so the last thing I needed was alcohol. Plus, I’d been steering clear of the stuff for the past few months and, I had to admit, felt better for it.
“Water it is.” Xander pulled a glass carafe out of the fridge and placed it on the kitchen counter before grabbing two glasses from one of his pristine white cabinets.
The place was immaculate, with clean lines and nothing out of order. But then again, he probably had a maid. I couldn’t imagine Xander carving out a day for cleaning, especially a place this massive.
“So…how are we going to do this?” Xander said, pushing a glass across the counter as I made my way out of the turret thingy and into his kitchen.
“Well, from the looks of it, I’m assuming this place is monitored by security cameras. In the garage, the lobby—what about the elevator? Do you know if they have any in there?”
Xander took a sip of water. “I sure hope not.”
His tone made it pretty obvious what he was getting at, and not wanting to linger on the idea of him having sex in the elevator I just rode up in, I chose to ignore him.
“I’ll check that out in further detail later. Do you know the building manager’s name?”
“Yes, it’s Gerald.”
“Good. I’ll fill him in on what’s going on and make sure access to your floor is restricted. But I want to make sure his staff is kept in the dark as far as who I am. They will know me as your boyfriend. Only he will know me as more. Work for you?”
“Do I really have a choice?”
“No.”
“Then it works for me.”
“Thought it might. For now, though, what we’re really going to have to focus on is your comings and goings. Where do you go after work, before work, for lunch? Do you have any habits? The gym? The coffee shop you go to every morning? I’ll also want to check out your workplace, the people around you, but we can start on that tomorrow.”
Xander set his glass on the counter and brushed a hand through his hair, the thick strands falling back in the exact position they’d been styled in that evening for his broadcast—always camera ready.
“This is crazy. I still can’t believe it’s actually happening. That you have to be here, dealing with this.”
“Better me than some stranger, no?”
“I suppose.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“I didn’t mean that.”
“Yeah, you did, but I don’t care. You need help, Xander, so suck it up and deal with it.”
Xander’s eyes flared at my no-nonsense tone, and he crossed his arms. “Fine. I’ll deal with it. I’ll even deal with you if it means staying alive. But this is all going to be for nothing if we can’t make it believable.”
“The cover story, you mean? You’re still hung up on that?”
“Yes. You’re saying you need to be with me around the clock, and I understand that the best way to do that is to have people think we’re dating, but—”
“But what?”
Xander looked me over and shrugged. “I would never date someone who dresses as badly as you. Not to mention the way you act and talk. I just—I guess I don’t understand how we’re going to convince people this is real.”
Not offended in the slightest by Xander’s assessment of the things he found lacking in me, I placed my hands on the counter and gave him a once-over.
“News flash, Mr. Anchorman. I would never date someone like you either. You know, since you have a cock.”
Xander arched an eyebrow. “See, this is exactly what I’m talking about.”
“Oh, come on. It’s called undercover for a reason. We act. It’s not like I’m a pimp or some druggie living on the streets, but I seemed to play a pretty convincing role there. I just need to do a little background, a little research about the kind of guys you date to get into my role.”
“So basically you’re going to ask me a bunch of personal, invasive questions.”
“You catch on quick.”
“Lucky me.” His droll tone made me laugh.
“It’s not going to be that bad.”
“Says the man who won’t have to answer intimate, personal questions to someone he grew up with.”
“Are you feeling shy? That doesn’t seem like you.”
He shot a death glare my way. “How about murderous?”
“Probably not the best choice, all things considered.” And just like that, the mood in the room shifted back to serious, as we both remembered why I was there in the first place.
“So.” I cleared my throat. “I’m going to need names of your past flings, hookups, whatever, and I’m going to ask you some questions about them. You need to answer me honestly.”
“Wonderful.”
I fished out the small notepad I kept in the back pocket of my jeans. “You got a pen?”
Xander looked to the small pad. “You just keep one of those in your back pocket?”
I shrugged. “Habit, I guess.”
“Wouldn’t it make sense to carry a pen too?”
Well, yeah, I supposed it would, but—“Do you have a pen or not?”
Xander walked to the opposite end of the counter, opened a draw, and pulled out a pen and an A4-sized notepad. I went to take it. But when he didn’t immediately let go, I aimed a questioning look his way.
“Whatever I tell you here,” he said, “it stays between us.”
“As opposed to…”
“What do you think?”
“Ahh…you got some secrets rattling around this castle, Xander?”
Xander narrowed his eyes. “I just want to make sure that my private life stays my private life.”
I tugged on the pen and paper, and when he let it go, I smirked. “Who am I going to tell?”
“I mean it. Not even Bailey, okay?”
I eyed him for a beat, and when Xander didn’t waver I gave a clipped nod, wondering what exactly he was being so protective of. I figured Bailey would know anything and everything, them being best friends and all—but maybe not.
“Understood. What’s this for?” I said, holding up the pad.
“You’re going to need more paper than that tiny notebook if you want to know all of my hookups since Bailey. I like to have sex—often. It’s a good release from a stressful job. When I have downtime, I make sure to find it. I also make them sign an NDA, so I have all their information for your background checks. You can use that to write down any traits I find attractive, other than the fact they have a cock. Which is the only requirement I’m looking for, according to you.”