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Xavier sets his coffee down to wrap both arms around my waist, nosing at the open collar of his shirt on me. “I can think of better ways to start my morning than eggs.” His voice drops suggestively, and I press my thighs together.
Laughing, I extricate myself from his embrace. “Plenty of time for that later, Casanova. Eat up.”
We enjoy a quick breakfast together before Xavier has to leave for his interview, and it’s strange how easy it is to be with him like this. It’s clear that it’s not just sex between us. At the door, I tug playfully at his loosened tie. “Go dazzle the media. If you’re lucky, I might still be available for dinner tonight.”
Xavier smiles, boyish and unguarded, the sight still rare enough to quicken my pulse. He kisses me firmly and long enough for me to get light-headed. “I’m counting on it.”
The door shuts behind him and I wander back to the bedroom, hugging his shirt a little closer. I know the coming weeks won’t be all playful breakfasts and stolen hours in bed together. Real life looms, with its pressures and uncertainties. But wrapped in Xavier’s lingering scent, I feel a sense of possibility take root and unfurl within me. This thing between us—this potential for actual love—can weather coming storms. As long as we hold on to this newfound closeness, the future feels bright with promise.
SIXTEEN
XAVIER
The sleek glass and steel office tower looms over me as I step through the revolving doors into the lobby. Everything about the space screams money and power, from the polished marble floors to the uniformed security guards.
I’m here for a meeting with Pulse Athletic, a mega brand that’s been trying to get me on board for months. And based on the way my agent, Wayne, has been talking, they’re ready to pay the big bucks if I’ll add my name to their roster.
Speak of the devil, I spot Wayne crossing the lobby toward me, arms extended for a back-slapping bro hug.
“There he is! My favorite client.” Wayne grins up at me, blue eyes sparkling like he’s about to reel in the catch of a lifetime. Given the dollar figures he’s been floating, he just might be.
“What’s up, Wayne? Did you get lost on your way to the champagne fountain?” I nod toward the elevators. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
As we ride up to the executive suites, Wayne leans against the brass railing and fixes me with his best serious agent expression. “Now listen, Xavier. I know you’ve had some reservations in the past about endorsement deals. But I want you to keep an open mind here. This is a game changer.”
I nod, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. Wayne always had a flair for the dramatic.
The elevator doors slide open. Wayne straightens his tie and adopts a professional grin. Showtime.
We’re greeted by a receptionist whose smile looks like it could cut glass. She ushers us back to the sleek conference room where a team of executives in power suits are waiting, looking like sharks ready to feed.
The head honcho, a tanned guy named Bradley with teeth so white they should come with a warning label, pumps my hand. “Xavier, so great to finally meet in person. Please, have a seat.”
As I settle into a leather chair probably worth more than my first car, he launches right into his pitch. How much they love me, my play and interactions with fans. They want me as the face of their new athletic line. Not just a one-off ad campaign—they’re talking about integrating me into all their branding, plastering my mug on billboards and websites across the country. They’re even showing me the design of a prototype shoe called “The X-Savior,” obviously inspired by me.
The numbers start flying around the room faster than passes on the field. Six million for the first year. Ten if they expand internationally. Stock options. Profit sharing of the sales of the shoe.
“This is how billionaires are made,” Wayne whispers to me with a big grin.
I feel like I just chugged a triple shot of espresso. Wayne wasn’t kidding when he said game changer. I could do...well, anything with this kind of cash.
Bradley must read the look on my face, because he leans forward with a gleam in his eyes. “I know it’s a lot to process. But opportunities like this don’t come often, even for a superstar like yourself. Think it over, but not for too long.”
I nod, my brain already churning through the possibilities. As we exchange handshakes and goodbyes, I can practically see the dollar signs spinning in Wayne’s eyes.
“We should celebrate,” Wayne suggests, “Even if it’s just for a bit. You in?”
“Sure,” I agree. “But make it quick. I’ve got another engagement.”
“It’s not…,” Wayne inquires with raised brows.
I wave a hand, realizing he means Emma. “Nah, that’s totally over,” I say with a smirk, knowing I’m lying out of my teeth. I’m in no mood for a lecture about the dangers of mixing business with pleasure.
We head to a nearby upscale bar, and Wayne orders a round of high-end Scotch. As we clink our glasses, he winks at me. “To new beginnings and unfathomable wealth!”
The Scotch burns as it goes down, but it’s a good kind of burn. A burn that reminds me that life is about to change in a big way.
“Alright,” Wayne says, setting down his empty glass. “I know you’ve got to run, but remember, this is just the beginning. The world is about to become your oyster.”
