Page 45 of Rear View

Ryah

Xavier stared out his bedroom window to the still-dark sky of Monday morning. The wind howled beyond, whistling through the trees. The cold whipped the dense snow and ice pellets against the glass while my reality slipped back in.

I’d been a fool for ever doubting him. For hiding the truth so long. What he’d risk still played at the back of my mind, but the hollow emptiness and fear that’d plagued me like a shadow had ebbed, because I wasn’t alone.

I lay curled on the bed across the room, pretending to sleep, my hair splayed out around me. He’d gotten up hours before and dragged a chair into the room, presumably so I wouldn’t wake alone.

He’d barely slept in the two days since…

everything. His cuts and bruises had grown more prominent, but he swore they didn’t hurt.

We’d grabbed a few necessities from my place, then spent the time locked away together.

I’d wanted to forget, so he’d helped me.

We’d spent every second I was awake since either touching, tasting or with him buried inside of me.

And being there with Xavier, under his roof, safe, it calmed me.

But when he thought I was sleeping, he got to work, taking my phone, and going through everything from him . He must’ve read every word, looked at every picture, listened to every voicemail. And the deeper down that rabbit hole he dived, the darker his expression grew.

He adjusted his lone earbud and clicked something, one of the messages, I assumed.

His fists and forearms corded, tendons standing out against his skin, his anger so hot, it burned. I hated to see him that way. He needed a distraction.

I stirred, pretending to look around like I’d just awoken. My gaze met his and I rolled onto my side to face him, the white sheet barely covering my breasts. “Morning,” I said, my voice sleep-thick and husky.

His stare raked my body, and he grinned. “Mornin’, darlin’.” He flicked a finger toward me. “You’re lookin’ real good curled in my bed like that.”

I bit my lip and snuggled tighter into the pillow, but his expression fell and my own faltered. “Everything okay?”

“All good.” He unplugged my device from the charger and pulled that earbud out. Leaning forward, he set them on the edge of the bed before he dropped his elbows onto his knees.

The sudden panic tightening my throat stung while my eyes moved between his as I tried to gauge how he felt. To gauge if it was too much. If he’d changed his mind and—

“I’m here,” he said, the words a vow. “Love you too damn much to leave.”

Heat burned my cheeks, and I tucked my chin down, my smile sliding back in, warm and easy. “I love you too.”

He raked a hand up the back of his neck and over his sexy, tousled hair. “I’m takin’ you to class, yeah.”

My heart fluttered against my ribs as I loosed a soft laugh and slipped from the bed. Taking that sheet with me, I padded closer and pushed him back into the chair, straddling his lap.

“If you’re tryin’ to change my mind”—he grabbed my ass and made a show of checking out every inch of my body before he finished—“this ain’t gonna do it.”

My core clenched as I brushed the hair back from his forehead and pressed a gentle kiss there.

God, I loved him. Really. Truly. Deeply.

“I’ve spent the last two years scared of my own shadow, Xavier.

And when I’m with you, that’s gone. If you want to take me to class, then you can take me to class.

But there are people everywhere on campus, so you don’t have to. ”

“Guess all those people get to watch me walk your sweet ass in, then.”

I made a show of glancing over my shoulder at said ass. “I suppose I should probably cover it.”

He grunted.

“Unless you’d prefer I don’t—”

He locked his grip down, his fingers kneading deep. “The only person who sees you like this is me.”

I internally purred and wiggled against him, grinding his hard-on with my happy dance.

His head fell back, and he groaned. “You’re killin’ me, darlin’.”

My giggle was high and bright before I bit my lip, drew his zipper down and gripped him hard.

“Christ,” he hissed, his stomach tensing.

Rising over him, I lined his cock with my core and lowered myself until I seated him fully inside of me. He groaned again. Louder. Rougher.

He tipped his lip up at the corner, all proud and eager as one hand held my hip and the other skimmed down. I rolled my body, working him along my G-spot while his thumb slipped between us and pressed against my clit.

I gasped, then panted. He was so damn good. In every way, he was everything I wanted. Everything I needed.

He thrust up, driving into me deeper. “You’re perfect, Ryah.”

The sound of his voice did things to me, and my core clenched around him, my orgasm cresting hard and fast.

“Oh, fuck ,” he grunted, then gripped tight as he slammed into me, keeping pace.

I cried out, screaming his name as I came, and he shuddered his release with me. My arms looped around his neck as I collapsed forward, and we caught our breath.

Adjusting his position, he slid himself free, his hand stroking a slow path over my spine. “Naked and needy Ryah’s my favorite Ryah.”

A soft laugh slipped from me as I angled to better see him and offered a taunting scowl.

Tucking my hair back, he tracked his arctic eyes over my face, lingering on my scar as they turned serious.

“What’s wrong, Xavier?”

He chucked his chin toward my phone. “Who else knows ’bout all this?”

I sobered. He’d given me space to breathe, but the cording of his neck and chest muscles told me he needed the answer. Couldn’t wait anymore. Settling a palm over his heart, I softly replied, “Miles, Zoya, Christian and Barlowe.”

The furrow of his brow dipped low. “Barlowe?”

I lifted a shoulder. “I was in his office when one of the messages came through.”

He inclined his head. “What about your parents?”

My hand dropped, fingers twisting in the sheet. “No,” I answered, my voice small.

“You’re tellin’ ’em, yeah.”

“Xavier—”

“Nah, dream girl. People need to know.” He tucked a strand of my fallen hair behind my ear. “Ain’t safe to isolate yourself.”

My bottom lip stuck out in a pout. “You sound like Miles and Zoya.” But with him, there’d be no brokering. He’d make me do it, or doubtless, he’d do it himself.

Angling forward, he pulled my lip between his teeth, then released. “Good.”

A smile took me. “What time is it, rally boy?”

“’Round eight thirty.”

My gaze widened. “I need to get ready. Barlowe’s a stickler for being punctual.”

His jaw ticked and he stretched his neck when he grumbled, “Fine.” He chucked my chin with his knuckle. “But get ready fast. We’re callin’ your ma and dad before we go.”

My mouth dropped open. “You’re bossy.”

He grinned as that knuckle clamped me shut. “Don’t forget it.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that broke from me when I climbed from his lap. He tapped my ass, eyes wild as he adjusted his clothes, looking like he wanted nothing more than to toss me back in bed for a good, hard fuck that’d make me walk funny for a week.

Liquid heat pooled between my legs again as I peered back at him. I tipped my head toward the bulge in his pants. “You might wanna put that away before we leave,” I said, my voice desperately sultry.

Linking his hands behind his head, he leaned back in the chair, putting it on full display.

My mouth watered and I swallowed hard.

He lunged for me.

I squealed and turned tail, giggling as I scurried into the bathroom.

Forty minutes later, I was showered and in one of my “someday” dresses.

I sat on Xavier’s ridiculously comfortable brown leather couch, my hands trembling as the video call to my parents rang through.

The walls in his living room were a warm shade of greige, the fireplace across the room, floor-to-ceiling stonework.

A massive TV hung mounted above it, a large picture window looking out toward the mountains in the distance.

Xavier lowered himself down next to me, one arm lining the sofa behind me while the other slipped the phone from my grasp, holding it steady.

I pressed tighter to his side, needing the support.

The call connected. Mom’s face appeared. “Hey, sweetie!” Her eyes widened on Xavier, and she squeaked an excited sound before she composed herself. “Hello, Xavier.”

“Mornin’, Mrs. Nolan,” he said.

She beamed. “How are you both doing?”

My stomach twisted, and I inhaled, good and deep. Xavier was right. The more people that knew, the better, but God, that didn’t make it any easier. “Can you…” I cleared my throat. “Can you get Dad? There’s something I need to tell you both.”

She stilled, her face falling. “Of course.” She called out to him, and several seconds later, the thump of his feet on their linoleum floor pounded out.

“What’s going on?” they asked, their stares sliding between me and my rally driver.

Xavier’s free hand flexed against my shoulder. Leaning into that touch, I told them everything. How long it’d been going on, why I’d retreated like I had, my pathetic excuse for not telling them.

My father’s face hardened, the same vengeance--fueled anger that’d taken Xavier etched there. My mother grew pale, hands covering her mouth, eyes brimming with tears.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“I knew something was wrong but—” Mom shook her head.

Xavier shifted beside me. “She’s stayin’ with me while I’m in town, but if I’m travelin’…”

“If you’re traveling, she’ll come here,” my father cut in.

“We’ll get you to class,” Mom added.

I shook my head, grateful but again feeling like a burden. “That’s too far for you.”

My father’s brow furrowed. “This isn’t a debate, young lady,” he said, his tone sharp. “You’re staying here when your boyfriend’s away. End of story.”

Some of the tension left Xavier’s shoulders.

And the light bulb in my head went off when everything clicked.

Why he’d pushed for the call. To protect me when he couldn’t.

My heart fluttered, and I rested a palm over his stomach as my thumb stroked a gentle line of thanks there, because burden or not, the relief of knowing I wouldn’t be alone settled deep.

“Okay,” I breathed.

We discussed Xavier’s schedule and mine, figuring out a plan before he invited my parents to the race at Baythorn that coming weekend and then for a snowmobile trip when he got back.

They thanked me for telling them and we said our goodbyes, my chest lighter than it’d been in years. Two, to be exact.

Shortly thereafter, Xavier and I climbed into the Jeep and headed to U of E. His warm hand trailed my thigh while I leaned toward the center console, getting closer. It felt good. Having someone who cared the way he did. Someone like him . He was more than I deserved.

His thumb roving higher, he asked, “What time are you done?”

“Around three thirty.”

He dipped his chin in a nod. “I’ll be here at three.”

That burden-heavy guilt edged in. “You don’t need to wait on me, Xavier.”

“I’d spend my life waitin’ on you, darlin’.”

My face heated and I tucked my chin to my chest, peering at him through my lashes.

He parked in the visitor section, and we climbed out. Taking my hand, he let me lead him across campus, studying every guy en route.

We entered the psych building and headed for my lecture hall. Stopping outside the door, I gestured toward the lectern at the front of the auditorium. “That’s my professor.”

“Barlowe,” Xavier said, eyeing him like it was personal. “We met the other day.”

My nose scrunched in question.

Barlowe turned his attention our way, his stare narrowing.

“When I came to pick your sweet ass up and you didn’t show, I went lookin’.”

My mouth dropped open. I should’ve known.

He smirked, took my hips in his hungry grasp and turned me to face him. “Do what you need to do. Don’t rush.” He pointed through the glass exit doors to a bench just outside. “I’ll be there when you’re done.”

His kiss lingered on my lips as I sauntered toward my desk.

Barlowe cleared his throat and shuffled his papers entirely more aggressively than necessary.

It was suddenly like dealing with a petulant child.

Something I shouldn’t have to do. Something no one should.

It made me sick to my stomach to deal with him.

To just be in his presence. If he acted that way with me, I had to assume he did it with others.

And it’d never be addressed if someone didn’t address it.

Yes, picking that fight and requesting a new thesis adviser stressed me for any number of reasons, seeing as I’d still be his TA, but the only way he’d stop crossing my lines was if I threw up a wall.

So, I swallowed around the bile climbing the back of my throat and brought up U of E’s contact directory on my phone to do exactly that.