Someone like Xavier
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Ava Star
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A week before she starts her last year of college, Melody has a one-night stand with a sexy stranger. She doesn’t expect to see him again, but she can’t seem to forget him and the connection they shared. So, Melody is shocked when the mysterious man turns up at her graduation, and even more shocked when she sees who he’s with. They can’t deny the chemistry and passion between them, but they also can’t be together. Will fate keep them apart forever, or can they find a way to each other?
Age Rating: 18+
Chapter 1: The first look.
XAVIER
The bar pulsed with low conversations, clinking glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter—just another night filled with locals and tourists drowning their problems in overpriced whiskey and bad decisions. I wasn’t here for either.
Gunner had dragged me out, claiming I needed a break after back-to-back cases that had left me more irritable than usual. He wasn’t wrong, but I didn’t need a crowded bar and mindless flirtation to unwind. I needed silence. A stiff drink. A night when I didn’t have to think.
“C’mon, man, this is the third chick you’ve rejected tonight,” Cole whines, throwing me a look before glancing at the girl walking away.
“Are you sure everything’s working fine down there?” He nods toward my pants, smirking.
I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. “Fuck off.”
Cole grinned, clearly pleased with himself. He lived for shit like this—poking, teasing, making a joke out of anything.
I shake my head, ignoring him and focusing on my drink. I’m not in the mood for this. I’m fucking tired, and after a long day battling in the courtroom, I just want to relax.
“Are things getting serious with her?” Stefan asks, his tone laced with curiosity.
I frown, confused. “With whom?”
Three pairs of eyes locked onto me.
“That protégé of yours,” Gunner says, smirking like he knows something I don’t.
My frown deepened. Had they lost their damn minds? I didn’t have a thing with her.
“We just fuck,” I said flatly, taking a slow sip of my drink. “There isn’t anything between us.”
“She doesn’t see it that way,” Gunner remarks, swirling his drink.
“That’s why I told her last week—our arrangement is done.”
She and I were never a thing—just two people who happened to find themselves in each other’s beds when loneliness hit too hard. But I should’ve known she wanted more—I saw the signs, ignored them. A mistake I wouldn’t repeat.
I lean back on the couch, my eyes drifting across the bar. Then I see her.
She’s sitting alone on a barstool, nursing her drink. Her posture is stiff, tense. She doesn’t belong here—not in that outfit, not with that lost expression. My eyes trailed from how she clutched her glass to the tension in her shoulders.
She’s not here for a good time. She’s here to forget.
“Well, well,” Cole muttered beside me, following my gaze. “Now that’s a woman who needs a distraction.”
Cole was the type of guy who never turned down a challenge, especially if it came in the form of a beautiful woman. Tall, blond, and cocky as hell, he had a reputation for charming his way into and out of beds without much effort. He’d probably already decided she was his next conquest.
I ignored him, still watching her. Another guy, some overconfident suit—sidled up to her, probably thinking he had a shot. She barely glanced at him before shaking her head.
The guy lingered, clearly convinced persistence was charming, but then she shot him a look. Sharp. Uninterested. Final.
He got the message and retreated fast.
I smirked.
Not easily impressed. I liked that.
“Shit, that was cold,” Gunner remarked, tipping his glass in approval.
Gunner was the level-headed one. The kind of guy who could assess a room in seconds and had a habit of seeing things the rest of us missed. He didn’t talk much unless he had something worth saying.
“Yeah, well, maybe she just hasn’t met me yet,” Cole said, grinning as he straightened his shirt.
Stefan snorted, swirling the bourbon in his glass. “Sit down, Casanova. She’s not here for that.”
Stefan had always been the most observant of us. He was an ex-armyman with a sharp mind. Now, he owns a security firm and still carries himself like a man who notices everything.
But Cole wasn’t listening. He was already on his feet, heading her way.
“Then what is she here for?” Gunner asked, tipping his drink in interest.
I leaned forward, watching her as she spoke animatedly into her phone. Her expression was distant, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass absentmindedly.
“To get over her heartbreak,” I murmured.
“Damn right,” Stefan lifted his glass, nodding before downing the rest of his drink.
I watched as Cole leaned in, flashing his usual grin—the one that worked on most women.
Most.
Not her.
She turned, looked him over, and shook her head. No hesitation. No polite rejection. Just a flat-out no.
Damn.
Cole stepped back, hands raised in surrender, and returned to us, grumbling under his breath.
“That was fucking brutal,” Stefan smirked, taking a sip of his drink.
“She’s got taste,” Gunner added.
Cole scowled, reaching for his glass. “Maybe she just doesn’t like blondes.” Then he turned to me, nudging my arm. “Your turn, loverboy.”
I didn’t move. Not yet.
Instead, I watched her, taking in every detail.
The way she sat back straight, but her fingers fidgeted with the rim of her glass. The way her lips pressed together as she listened to whoever was on the other end of the phone.
“And she’s too young for you,” I muttered under my breath. The words felt more like a warning to myself than anything else.
She looked young. Early twenties, maybe. Too young to be carrying that kind of sadness in her eyes. But then again, I wasn’t exactly old. Early thirties weren’t ancient. I worked out, kept myself in shape, and had more than a few women assume I was younger than I was. Physically, I didn’t feel the years between us.
But mentally?
That was a different story.
I’d seen enough, done enough, made enough mistakes to know that youth and wisdom didn’t always go hand in hand. Still, none of that changed the way my pulse kicked up when she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, exposing the curve of her neck. Or the way something settled deep in my chest when she shook her head at whoever was on the other end of the call, her expression flickering with something raw.
I should’ve looked away. Should’ve ignored the pull.
But then she turned.
And looked straight at me. Not just a glance—a fucking connection. Something settled deep in my chest. I didn’t know what it was, only that it was there.
Her curious eyes take me, like she knew I’d been watching. I tipped my glass slightly, a silent acknowledgment. She hesitated, just for a second, then did the same. And just like that, every logical reason to stay in my seat disappeared.
Before I even realized it, I was already on my feet.
***
