Page 73 of Even Beneath the Stars

"No… I mean yes. Yes, I'm fine."

He extends his hand to return my phone. As he does, his eyes dip to the screen. He squints, pulling his hand back. Leans in as his eyes skim the words on the screen.

I reach for the phone, my palm sweaty. My breath stuttered. Because I will be mortified if Xavier sees that he was the subject of most of my text exchange with Laney.

"Can I have my phone back?" I sound frantic.

I soundguilty.

He glances at me, his face unreadable, then takes a step back, holding the phone out of my reach as he continues reading.

His eyes narrow even more.

"What the fuck?"

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Maggie

"You're texting about me to your friends?" Xavier sounds both shocked and offended at the same time.

My face burns. "No! I mean—Laney's the one texting about you. She's had this weird crush on you since the summer."

I don't mention that Laney’s crush on Xavier is less of a spark and more of a fireworks show gone rogue. Although, maybe the words on the screen spell it out just fine, because Xavier's eyebrows shoot up, the bruising around his eye less dramatic in the dim hallway light. "She doesn't even know me." He pauses, then adds, "I've never even talked to her."

"I know. Laney's just—"

"What the fuck… " He's glancing down at the incriminating texts again. "She's talking about seeing menaked?"

Go figure: the poster boy for bad decisions, somehow still most girls' daydream.

"Yeah. Laney's kind of… all in. Over the top with everything. But like I said, it's just a crush. She thinks you're hot and asks about you sometimes." I reach for my phone, trying to sound casual. "It's kind of become this running joke between us."

"A joke?" His voice carries an edge, and he won't relinquish my phone.

"Not like that. Just…" I wave my hand, struggling to explain. "She gets all flustered whenever you're around, so I tease her about it. It's just silly… it's hard to explain. I guess you have to know Laney."

Xavier runs a hand through his messy hair. "Think I'm good, thanks."

"Look, Laney's just…" I sigh, trying to find the right words. "She gets caught up in the whole rich-guy fantasy thing. You know—mansions, fancy cars, living the dream. A lot of girls are into that whole idea."

"But not you." Xavier's eyes lock onto mine, intense and searching.

Heat creeps up my neck, because it feels like a fine line between what he just asked and asking about one rich guy in particular.

"No," I tell him. "Not me."

He studies me for a second, like maybe he's aware of that fine line, too. "Because you can't stand rich guys." He pushes, still holding my phone hostage.

"I never said— That’s not…" I start to protest, then catch myself. I've asked so much of him these past few weeks. These past couple of days, even. Pressed him about his preconceptions about me. The least I owe him is a shred of honesty about my preconceptions about him. "Okay, fine. You're right. I used to be like that. I had this whole preconceived idea about anyone with money."

I search his eyes for a flash of victory. Any smugness at calling me out on the hypocrisy my admission just revealed. But there's only curiosity. And a connection that slides into place almost as if my words were the key that unlocked it.

There's an intensity in his look too. It causes my throat to go dry and makes it hard to swallow. My fingers fumble behind me until they find purchase with the edge of the table. Something to grip onto.

“I mean, your world has private jets,” I tell him, my voice still softer than usual. “Mine has gas stations with questionable hot dogs—yet here I am, telling you things I’ve never told anyone.”

Xavier lets out a quiet huff of laughter, dropping his head for a second before looking back up at me.

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