Xavier leaned back on the couch, arms stretched across the backrest, eyes never leaving hers. His voice dropped into that blunt, no-bullshit tone that cut straight through her storm of doubts.
"It's not that I don't want to, Angel. It's that there isn't a moment where I don't want to."
Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
"You think I'm holding back because I'm not interested?" He gave a dry laugh. "The truth is the opposite. Before tonight, I didn't even want to see you like that. Because once I did, once that line was crossed—" his gaze dropped, sharp and heavy on her—"it's hard to go back. Hard to sit alone with you in a room and not make a move. Hard to even pretend I can control it."
Angel's chest tightened, her pulse hammering.
Xavier's eyes softened, but only slightly. "And now… we've already done the first stage. You think I can just brush that off? Act normal? No. Every second I spend near you now, I'll be thinking about it. About what I want to do next."
