Page 2 of Even Beneath the Stars

Laney’s still locked onto him. "Are you kidding me?Xavier Rockwell.As intheRockwells. As in Barron Rockwell."

Okay, that name I know. "The gazillionaire?"

"Yeah. Real estate tycoon. Owns a bunch of luxury resorts," Laney says, her words tumbling out in a muted rush. "Xavier's his son. They live in this insane mansion up on the cliffs. I've heard it's like a legit castle."

I frown. "Wait. Barron Rockwell’s, like, eighty—and he has a kid our age?"

"And a five-year-old." Her eyes still haven't strayed from the guy who seems to be getting exponentially hotter the closer he gets. "Finn is Xavier's little brother."

My gaze flicks to adorable Finn, mop of brown curls still damp from a water gun fight earlier, tiny terror energy at full capacity.

"Finn is Barron Rockwell's kid?" My jaw goes slack. "God, how old is their mom?"

"Way younger than Barron. Jacee was a model—still models sometimes, I think. She married Barron when she was like, twenty-two and he was in his mid-sixties." Laney’s voice drops lower as Xavier gets closer. "Word is she's always off partying on fancy tropical islands and stuff. Town gossip says she’s got a couple of younger guys on the side, but who knows."

I raise an eyebrow. "Sounds like a soap opera."

His mother being a model explains the dude's ridiculous good looks, though.

"You have no idea. And Xavier’s parties?" She whistles low. "Legendary.Like, off the charts. He checks all the boxes: on the football team, plays hockey, gets mentioned in gossip magazines and stuff because he's a Rockwell—and, well, totally gorgeous…”

"So, basically, he’s a walking CW show."

"Yup. Pretty much every girl in town is obsessed with him."

Of course.

Still, as Xavier steps into the clubhouse, leaning to see out of the wide-open windows of the Kid's Club front office, I get it. He’s the kind of guy who turns heads just by entering a room. Or clubhouse, in this case. And there's a cool indifference about him that makes it obvious it's been this way his entire life.

"So, he's here for Finn?"

"No idea," Laney exhales. "But I can't go over there, Maggs. My hair's a mess!" She glances down at her standard-issue navy Welsford polo, tugging it away from her body. "God! There's a golf ball-sized mystery stain right above my left boob!" Her voice pitches higher, cracking slightly, glancing over at Xavier then back at me. "Will you go? Please? I mean… only if you—"

I shrug. "Sure."

It’s not like I look any more put together than Laney right now, but I couldn't care less what kind of impression I make on a guy like Xavier Rockwell. Especially now that I know his background. That doesn't mean I'm above boosting Laney's rep in front of him, if she's crushing on the guy, though.

"Sure, it's annoying to have two guys fighting over you again, Laney," I shout, backing away from my new friend, "but you need to let them both down easy."

Her eyes bulge and her cheeks flush. She whips around to face the other way. "OhmyGod, youare so dead," she gasps.

"Just tell them to stop leaving so many voicemails," I call even louder, still backing away, thoroughly enjoying myself. "I mean—God. Stalkers much?"

Laney makes this soft noise that sounds a lot like mewling as she pretends to be fascinated with the grain pattern of the picnic table.

I giggle, swivelling on one heel, then swing my arms as I make my way over to the clubhouse. Xavier glances up as I approach, raking a hand through his thick waves.

Lifting a hand in greeting, I get one of those effortless guy chin thrusts in response. Then I skip up onto the covered veranda and duck into the front office.

"Hey there," I chime, lifting my arms to twist my hair into a messy bun.

Xavier’s liquid-gold eyes track the movement, lingering for a second, like he’s trying to decide what to make of the bubblegum pink color I dyed it a couple of weeks ago.

"Hi," he says in a voice that is both confident and totally chill. The kind of voice that probably makes customer service agents waive cancellation fees. And is it possible for a smile to be lazy?

He peers past me, out the wall of open windows. "Uh, is your friend okay?"

I stifle a laugh. He must've seen her freaking out a second ago.

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