Breathe For Me (For Me 1: Xander)

Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Chelsea rode the lift down aiming to hit the local deli and grab an instant meal. She was too tired to face the stairs even though she knew it would be good for her leg. Three days had passed since That Afternoon and she still thought of it whenever she let her brain off the leash. Tragic, right? She wasn't some thirteen year old in the throes of her first ever crush. She was twenty-four, a post-grad student with brilliant grades-sure, she'd had some time out while she recovered from the accident, but now, just when she should be getting back on top, all her mushy brain could think about was Xander.

What he'd done to her. How he'd made her feel. And how much she wanted it again.

The moment she'd woken later that evening, she'd known he'd gone. That had been the rule in what had only been a game. But in that game he'd kissed every inch of her and buried deep, his size and power claiming entire possession. Then he'd pushed deeper still. And at these mere memories her body softened again, heated, hungered.

Superman?

Oh yes.

He hadn't left a note--nothing on her pillow,her desk, her phone, her bench. No message anywhere. In fact there was no sign he'd even been there. It really was like it had been nothing but a dream. Fantasy.

Except now moving around her apartment block was an exercise in nerves. She wanted to see him and didn't want to see him. Daily she resolved not to think about him. Then failed. But there'd been no sign of him so far. He hadn't been running with his buddies--she'd seen just two of them the other day. Hunter and Rocco. The level of her disappointment was pathetic. The only way to deal with it was to exit and enter the building as fast as possible. So the elevator it was.

Chelsea stepped forward, ready to exit as the compartment did that slight bump as it reached the ground floor. She stared straight ahead as the doors slid open.

He stood there-blocking her way, waiting to take the ride up. Dressed head to toe in black--boots, jeans, tee--unshaven, unsmiling, intense.

Chelsea froze. Her gaze locked with his in a timeless moment of memory and heat. As she watched, his dark pupils swallowed the light blue of his eyes. The sultry depths drew her in again and sweeping desire back through to her bones--more powerfully than before because now she knew. And to her amazement, she saw the heat beating its way up to her face reflected in his--smudges of color slashing across his cheekbones.

Oh no. She wasn't going to do this. She wasn't going to fall so easily. She forced herself to turn her head and step to the side so she could exit the elevator. Aiming to give him a wide berth. Literally.

But before she could take the next step forward, a broad palm pushed on her belly. Startled, she looked up, but couldn't prevent him propelling her back into the lift with that simple, but firm, action. He kept walking. Kept pushing her to retreat until her back hit the wall of the lift. She didn't break eye contact again. The doors slid shut behind him, but the lift went nowhere.

"Hello to you too, Xander," she said, faking a cool reaction. Fingers crossed he couldn't tell her pulse was galloping spooked-horse crazy.

Amusement flickered in his face, along with something else.

Really? Chelsea's narrowed her eyes. He was going to give her the lover-look now? When he'd walked out while she was asleep and not made any kind of contact since?

Well she was so not letting him know she'd been thinking of him and nothing but for the last eighty hours. She had pride. She'd play it cool. Well, as cool as possible given the oxygen in the elevator seemed to have been sucked out, leaving a smokin' atmosphere.