Page 12 of Wicked Lies Grow Wildflowers

CHAPTER TEN

XANDER

My mind hasn’t stopped thinking about Maeren and I can’t get it to.

I’ve driven by her house twice since I revealed myself to her at the showing.

I would sit in front of her apartment all day if I could—just to get a glimpse of her—but I don’t.

Despite my obsessive nature, I’m not completely delusional.

I know I need a real way in. I have her contact information, and I could do what any normal guy who’s interested in a woman would do: call or text her.

That’s not me though. I can’t woo her with sweet words and whispered promises.

I’m too cold and calloused to that. I can’t be honest about what I want with her, because I don't even have that figured out yet. She clearly doesn’t know how to react to me anyways; she seemed so hot and cold with me.

But, she was ambushed and caught off guard by my presence, anyone would be in a situation like that.

How else was I to approach her? This way it seemed like I ‘accidentally’ happened to stumble upon her organically in search of a house.

No harm, no foul. No hidden motives, just fate, and certainly not my own obsessive nature ensuring our paths crossed once more.

I already know she’s trouble for me, I just hope she’s worth it.

I bury myself in legitimate work to snuff out my annoyance, temporarily, at least. The day is spent answering emails, processing invoices, and working on websites.

The building part is what I enjoy most about this line of work.

Coding and creating is one giant puzzle and it challenges me.

That’s something I appreciate about both lines of work I’m in.

They’re stimulative in different ways and my brain craves the constant challenge they provide.

If I don’t feed it what it wants then my cruelty breaks free, and nobody likes when that happens.

People die, and I try so hard to make sure my actions are always justifiable, even if not legal.

Hours of tedious work pass with no relief.

My mind is plagued by this girl. It’s been weeks since I first met Maeren and I just need to cleanse her from my system.

A quick fuck is all I truly need. An hour between her legs and it’ll be over with, surely.

What makes her seem so special? I could have any woman I want—so why do I want her?

She couldn’t give two fucks about me and that’s part of why I crave her.

She’s a challenge I need to win. I may be a bit of a masochist, but perhaps my heart craves some sadism instead, because I have a feeling nothing about her will be easy.

I search through my emails and find the thread detailing my home search before the showing I had with her.

She was so cordial in our communication, but I know that was just a front she puts on for work—like the fake customer service voices they use on me at the drive through.

There’s a venomous viper lurking under her professional and polished exterior.

If I had to guess, the face she shows the world is nothing more than a long-practiced defense mechanism.

I’ll gladly raze every fucking defense she has to the ground.

I always get what I want and she will be no different. Finding her contact information attached, I grab my phone and craft a business-like text.

Me: Hello Maeren, I wanted to discuss the property I had viewed. I’m a serious buyer and would love to make an offer. Please get back to me at your earliest convenience, I would love to talk to you about moving forward. -Xander.

It’s complete bullshit. I don’t want the fucking house, but I want her, and this is how I plan to weave my way into her life. If she’s so deeply rooted in my mind then it’s time these obsessions are reciprocated. She might not want me now, but she will.

I’ll make sure of it.