Best Friend's Ex Box Set

I shivered.

Xavier sat in his chair on the other side of his desk. He smiled at me as I entered, and I bowed my head toward him. “Xavier. It’s been a moment since we spoke,” I stated. I felt the strained cordiality coursing through my throat.

He gestured toward the chair before him. I reminded myself to enjoy my life, to make my life all it could be. I swallowed and sat, crossing my legs. I tipped my head to the right, coyly. “What matter brings me here?” I asked him. I didn’t ordinarily ask him these questions. We ordinarily didn’t speak like this during work hours.

Xavier brought his hands out before him and gazed at his long fingers. They held nothing. His wedding ring glinted on his left hand. “I try to meditate,” he said then. “I try to make my mind come clean, to not think about anything.”

“How is that working for you?” I asked him, swallowing. I tried not to laugh, not to smile.

But then, a smile stretched across his face. “It’s not working at all, Amanda. I can’t get you off my mind. Not for a single second.” His words were low and quiet. He shook his head and leaned toward me, over the desk. He reached out and grasped my hand. I held his, running my thumb over his skin. He sighed. “What are you thinking about?”

In that moment, I realized that we’d been thinking about the same things. We’d been thinking about each other, about us—as a couple. I swallowed and shrugged my shoulders. “Everything. Nothing.” I swallowed. “And mostly you, I suppose. Just you.” My voice was raspy.

Our eyes met across the table. I leaned toward him. Our faces were inches apart, and our whispers were easy, direct. It was almost like we were talking to each other in bed. I told him the events of the campaign team that day, what we’d accomplished. He told me about his business meeting with the governor of Washington State. Our words were easy, laced with a serious comprehension of the political world. But always, beneath us, we were linked. We sat, hand in hand.

Finally, after many minutes of political talk, he stopped. He bit his lip, and his eyes peered into mine with such a question about them. “You know. I had a wonderful time the other night.” His voice rose at the end, as if he were trying to get a feel for what I thought about the evening, if I’d had a good time as well.

There was no question; it had been one of the best nights of my life.

I nodded slightly, feeling my hair drape around my face. I swallowed. “It was magical, Xavier,” I whispered. Even as my heart panged in my throat, I knew that it was right; this was what I wanted. I wanted to ride out this wave of feeling and reach the other side—even if the other side was death and destruction, a complete loss of my career.

Xavier nodded. He leaned closer and brought his free hand to my face, bringing his fingers through my brown, luxurious hair. “And I want you to know that I hear you—I hear your problems with what I said. I understand why you panicked. I can’t just leave my wife. Not yet. I don’t want to scare you off, certainly. This is all I want. This. What we have. Right here.” He leaned closer to me, and he kissed me, catching my lips with his. I felt the sunlight emanating in from the great window on his other side. I sighed, feeling my pussy pulsing beneath me. I wanted him so bad. But this moment in the sunshine, this moment in which he told me that he wanted me, that he was willing to wait for me—was beautiful enough.

The stress seemed to fall from me so easily in the wake of the news that Xavier was going to wait to tell his wife, that he was going to respect my wishes. I shivered as I pulled away from the kiss. My passion for him was growing, even as I felt that we were in a

car that was about to ride over the cliff and into the ocean.

“See me again soon,” Xavier whispered to me. I thought of all the things on his mind—about the way he was meant to take over the world, about how he had so much riding on his shoulders. And all he wanted for relaxation was my company, my body. My conversation.

And so I nodded. “If you play your cards right, Mr. President. I think we can make that happen.” My voice was light. I stood up and removed my hand from his. I bowed my head and turned back toward the small door in the middle of the wall, hidden in the oval curve. I opened the door and closed it, feeling like I was removing myself from an arena of comfort.

The rest of the pulsing, crazy world—that’s what I had to worry about.

Chapter Five

I tapped down the hallway, moving my shoulders this way, then that—feeling like a luxurious version of myself. I continued to imagine having sex with Xavier once more, and the titillating thought of it seemed to make my entire body burst with energy, with life. I almost laughed at myself, blushing.

Suddenly, I burst around the corner and found myself face-to-face with Jason. That weasel. I stopped short. My face turned red and angry. I pressed my lips together and didn’t say anything. I just blinked at him, wishing I could smack his fat cheeks.

He was eating a granola bar, allowing the crumbs to fall all over the floor. My stomach turned at his gross image. I cleared my throat.

“I see you’re arriving back from your little meeting with the president. Didn’t last very long, huh?” Jason asked me. He took another bite and I listened to him chew.

I shrugged my shoulders. “I suppose so.”

“What happened in there? Too explicit to say?” He smiled at me. I turned my head to the right, then the left, making sure that no one was listening in on our conversation.

I hissed at him. “Can you keep your voice down? I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me, okay? I had a meeting with the president about the campaign. We talked about our trip to California. Okay? Are you happy? What the hell.” I shook my head and breathed deep. I felt such a fresh, vibrant stream of energy. I could conquer the world, if I wanted to. Just not Jason.

He just laughed at my rising anger. He took another bite, and then he spoke through the crackling granola. “Say, Amanda. I was wondering where you’d been the past few nights.”

My heart dropped into the acid-rich pond of my stomach. I blinked my wide eyes toward him. “I don’t know what you mean,” I whispered. My eyes glanced around me once more.

He laughed, tossing back his head in that menacing way. His fat neck shook to the left and to the right. “I think you do. You haven’t been in your apartment lately. I know this, of course.” He winked at me.

I felt like crying. He was actively spying on me, every day. “I don’t see that that’s any of your business.” I retorted. The anger was coursing my body. I couldn’t stop my tongue as I pushed the words forward, into the world. They came out hissing, snakelike. “And if you don’t stop spying on me, I think you know what’s coming for you.” My threat hung in the air between us like a cloud.

He tapped his toe lightly and tipped his head to the right, brimming with good humor. “Is that right? Well. What is it you’ll do? Please. I want to hear it. Tell it to me straight.” He brought his lower lip out and bobbed it at me, like a child.