Page 14 of Even Beneath the Stars

Maggie crouches to his height. "I could ask you the same thing. It’s almost midnight, dude."

"I'm playing pool with Xave! I'm getting really good!"

She straightens, eyes locking onto mine, judgment creeping in. "Playing pool… at a high school party?"

"He’s fine," I drawl, steadying Finn as he stumbles. I hoist him onto my shoulders. "Right, buddy?"

"Right!" He shifts, getting comfortable, tiny fingers twisting my hair into tiny ponytails—his latest habit.

"He should be in bed," Maggie says, that Welsford edge back in her voice.

"He’s fine," I repeat, retrieving my drink and taking a sip.

"He’sfive."

"Which is why I only let him have one beer," I quip.

She doesn’t laugh. Which is disappointing. I was just starting to think the girl might actually have a sense of humor.

"Of course. Joking about a kindergartener drinking beer—at a party surrounded by drunk teenagers.Supermature, Rockwell."

Christ. She seriously doesn’t get sarcasm?

"Thanks for the unsolicited advice," I say evenly, as Finn's small fingers keep twisting my hair. "But think I've got things covered."

"Really? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re letting a five-year-old run wild at a party where half the football team is doing shots."

"And from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong." My voice stays level, but this girl is seriously pushing it. "Drop the counselor act. Summer’s over."

"It’s not an act. Go figure, I actually care about Finn."

"Right. Because watching him build sandcastles at a glorified playgroup makes you an expert."

"Seriously?" Her eyebrows lift and she makes this sort of huffing sound. "Well, at least I’m responsible enough to—"

"Hey, Finny," I cut her off, tugging on his ankle. "You want to go to bed right now?"

"No!" he squeals, fingers briefly pausing in my hair.

I quirk a brow at Maggie. "See?"

She exhales sharply. "Are you—seriously?You think asking a five-year-old if—"

I reach up to stop Finn from yanking too hard on my hair and cut her off. "Why are you always such a buzzkill? And so hung up on rigid rules about what people should or shouldn't do?"

"Why are you such an entitled, ignorant ass?" She slams her drink down, soda sloshing over the rim.

Finn pets my head, oblivious to the insults Maggie and I are flinging at each other. "Done! Now you look pretty."

"Thanks, dude." I fist-bump him. "What’s the damage?"

"Seven ponytails!" He sounds proud.

"Awesome."

He shifts, resting his chin on my head. "Can I have another Orange Crush?"

I lift him off my shoulders. "Sure. Go ask Seb." I nod toward the bar where Seb is standing, as I set him down.

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