30 Days With My Dashing One-Night Stand Billionaire

11. An Awkward, Heartbreaking Turn.

~LUNA~

I delayed downstairs, pretending to be invested in the channel playing on the television while in reality, I was waiting for Xander to be done with his brother so we could talk.

He didn't mention the exact time frame for the talk we were supposed to have, but I wanted to know what was wrong with him. Why did he seem so closed off and angry, his eyes losing their earlier sparks? The curiosity was so deep-rooted that I didn't consider the option of going upstairs to freshen up— at least to wash off the touch of that human stain off my body.

But when minutes morphed into an hour, and an hour flew into hours, I knew I needed to go freshen up. Plus, I didn't want Ace asking me why I hadn't gone up because I had no excuse to give.

As I ascended the stairs, half of my mind listened to any sign of a door opening downstairs and the other was on the banter or should I say the squabble between Xander and Ace.

Backtrack from the time when Andy asked if we were a thing and I was the only one denying that assumption, to the time when Ace was dragging his sole right to protect me with Xander, as though I wasn't standing right in front of them.

That puzzle had begun forming in my head as I stripped and jumped under the gigantic faucet in the walk-in bathroom.

Ace might be saying all that jokingly, but something in my gut told me that he meant that. And to think that Xander indulged him. Did he by any chance have an interest in me? Not just to protect me, but something more? What about Ace?

I didn't let my mind wrap around it so tight as to distract me from having a quick bath. Several minutes later, I was out and had already slipped into my evening wear of loose shorts and a feminine tank top. I was blow-drying my hair when I heard the opening of a door.

Certain it wasn't upstairs, I dumped the hair dryer on the vanity table and dashed out of the room. I needed to meet Xander downstairs so Ace wouldn't hear us.

The stairs had been dealt with and I was now standing over the foot of the stairs, my eyes darting around for him when I heard the clattering of pots in the kitchen. Was he cooking?

I peered down at my phone to ascertain the time. It was almost 11 pm. The high of seeing Xander after daydreaming about him earlier today had somehow shut my stomach. But right now, I could use real food, not pastries or snacks. I saw a pile on a rack in the kitchen earlier.

"Damn, they really lack nothing in this house," I muttered, padding my feet across the large sitting room, making for the kitchen.

"Perhaps, I can get started on the snacks while he prepares whatever it is on the menu." The thought of watching his large frame walking around the kitchen while fixing up something seemed very hot, sending a rush of anticipation through me.

My lips parted in a smile as I neared the kitchen, closing my eyes to the whiff of his heavenly men's cologne that wafted through my nose.

"Yummy!"

As soon as I stepped into the kitchen and caught sight of his larger-than-life frame, hovering over the kitchen cabinet, probably looking for something, butterflies sizzled around my stomach. Oh hell!

I was wrong to imagine the sight of him in the kitchen being just hot. It was way beyond hot, my c**t twitched. I bit back a groan as I stepped further into the kitchen, stopping by the large table.

I wondered whether he hadn't heard me coming in or he was pretending not to. That was when I heard his soft humming and caught sight of the ear pods plunged into his ears. My heart soared. He was listening to music— which from his humming sounded familiar.

Leaning against the table, I decided to drink in his sight for a few more minutes before he would discover me. But I hadn't finished that thought when he turned, pausing mid-step on sighting me.

As his piercing blue eyes held mine, the time stopped, and my heartbeat accelerated. I thought he was going to smile, but his face remained expressionless. The next minute he averted his gaze and headed towards the small fridge.

"I didn't hear you come in." I didn't want to overthink this, but I caught the hardness of his voice.

Was he okay?

I didn't reply till he turned after getting what he needed from the fridge.

"Of course you didn't," I drawled as I pointed at his ears, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "You were neck deep into that music."

He nodded with a shrug as he stepped closer to the table, dropping the bowl that contained eggs. I looked up from the bowl of eggs, fixing him a quizzical gaze.

"Are you okay?"

He nodded, looking up briefly to meet my gaze. "I'm good. You should be sleeping."

I tried not to be disappointed at the lack of warmth in our communication but tried to be grateful that at least he was talking to me.

"My growling stomach won't let me. What are you making?" From the loaves of bread I sighted near the toaster machine and then the eggs, it wasn't hard to guess what he was making.

I caught the tightening of his jaw and my worries grew. Was he really okay?

"Toasted bread and fried eggs with a cup of coffee. Should I make for you?" It warned my heart instantly that he cared to ask.

I nodded vigorously. "Please do, Alex."

He was about to turn to probably light the stove, but turned instantly at my last words, his brows furrowed. "Alex?"

I shrugged, dragging the bowl of eggs closer and snagging a plate from the ones lined in a container on top of the kitchen cabinet. "Is it not your name?"

I busied myself with breaking the eggs, trying to ignore how the body heat radiating off him affected me down south.

"I guess so." His dull replies were a f*****g downer. Something had shifted between us. It probably had something to do with the visit of the guy whom I guessed was his brother, not me, right? I hoped so.

I finished breaking the eggs to find him already hitting the oil. The whirring sound of the toaster machine was an indication that he had already piled the bread inside it.

I circled the table to hand him the eggs. He held my gaze briefly before tossing a weak, "thank you" my way.

How could he be lifting my spirit this minute and dashing it to the ground the next? Most importantly, why would I let him? I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat, but it wouldn't budge.

I watched him expertly slice the veggies he wanted to use in frying the eggs, my gaze totally obsessed with the tendons playing at the back of his hands. Those big hands that drove me to the ninth—

I snapped my eyes closed. "Stop it, Luna."

As he poured the eggs inside the heated oil and it made the shimmering sounds, I cleared my throat, automatically drawing his attention. "I figured you owe me a talk."

I was already tired of the uncomfortable silence that hung in the air. And for some reason, he was avoiding eye contact for long. God! Did I do anything wrong?

He didn't respond immediately, but busied himself with tending the eggs. As the silence dragged on, my heart raced a thousand miles, literally.

"There's nothing to talk about, Luna." He said with a note of finality that made my heart drop to my stomach. And the hard edges of his voice... It tore through my soul, bringing tears to my eyes.

"Really?" My voice all but quivered. Heck, he couldn't even look me in the eyes anymore.

"Really." A tear slipped out of my eyes and the rest blurred my vision. I didn't even know why I was crying. Was I expecting flowers? Kisses? Or a proclamation that he meant what he said back then? Sadly not.

"Very well then," I muttered shakily and turned to find my way out.

"What about dinner?"

I halted in my tracks at the doorway, turning slightly over my shoulders, I couldn't see past the tears that clouded my eyes. And somehow, I was thankful for that.

"I have lost my appetite." With that, I slipped out of the kitchen, letting the tears run down without interception.