Page 75 of Even Beneath the Stars

Xavier seems unfazed. "Also," he adds, "I said you dress like a Powerpuff Girls episode, not eclectic. Which sounds more like… hip and unexpected."

An offended noise escapes my throat. "I'm hip and unexpected."

He tilts his head slightly, watching me with a slow, knowing grin, sliding his hands casually into his pockets like he has all the time in the world. "Okay. You're that too."

And I think… maybe—he's flirting?

Holy crap…I think he's flirting with me.Which is something I'm entirely unprepared for. Seriously—a gal needs advance notice if Xavier Rockwell is going to flirt with her. It's like a law or something. If it's not, then it should be.

My eyes dart around the room, searching for anything to break the charged moment. They land on Xavier's guitar case propped against the couch. And I remember the more important topic we should be discussing right now.

"So? Did you end up going?" I ask, my heart rate skipping ahead a beat. "To Cam's place?"

I hadn’t realized how much I cared about his answer, until I'm waiting for it. Because I'm way more than just curious. I'm nervous.Anxious about what he'll say.

I care. A lot.

Xavier follows my gaze to his guitar. Now that the swelling has gone down, the shadows highlight his sharp cheekbones and the strong line of his jaw beneath the bruises.

His shoulders roll back slightly, and I catch the subtle wince as the motion pulls at his bruised ribs. When he shifts, the light by my crafting table catches on his messy brown waves, and my fingers itch to reach out and brush back that one stubborn strand falling across his forehead.

I inhale a breath as I wait for his answer.

Chapter Thirty

Xavier

It’s pretty obvious that Maggie's eagerness to hear how my evening played out is the real deal. Just like her surprise when I told her she's hot was the real deal. Which is weird, since I always just assumed she was aware that she's stunning. Because she's so confident about everything else. And also: mirrors.

I take a few steps around her and lower myself onto the couch. Relief spreads through my muscles as I sink into the soft cushions. "Yeah." My eyes meet hers. "I went to Cam's place." I shift to find a position that doesn't piss off my ribs. "Almost bailed when I walked into his garage, though," I admit once I've settled. "The guys were already deep into this groove, like they'd been playing together since the dawn of time."

Maggie moves to the couch and takes a seat a few feet away from me. She tucks her feet under herself and settles in, her hair catching the light, making it shimmer from pink to mauve the way it does under certain light. Another one of the many things about Maggie that's become familiar.

"But you didn't," Maggie confirms.

"No." I chuckle. "I did stand there like an idiot for a solid minute, though, clutching my guitar case like a freaking security blanket."

Maggie laughs. "No guy holding a guitar case ever looks like an idiot."

"Trust me on this one. It's possible."

"Whatever. You didn't stand there forever, right?"

"Long enough. They broke into this cool jazz version of 'Blackbird'—not the usual Beatles cover stuff. Cam was doing this insane fingerpicking pattern, and Tyler had a sick drum groove going."

Maggie leans forward slightly, watching me with this intense focus that makes me want to keep talking, even though discussing anything remotely personal is not my thing. It's something about the way she's completely present in the moment. That, and the things I've come to learn about Maggie LeClair. That she gets stuff. And tries to respect boundaries. That, like me, she isn't as un-affected by things as she pretends to be. And has the balls to admit it, when it's someone she trusts.

Because, apparently, somewhere along the way, she started trusting me.

And clearly, I started trusting her too, because here I am, spilling the details of one of the most meaningful moments of my life. A moment that—yeah, I'm not unaware—she made happen.

"And?" she urges. "What happened then?"

"What happened is that I grew some balls." I grin, and Maggie lets out a dorky snort-laugh. "The version they were doing was so cool and so intriguing, that I was totally pulled in. Then I'm opening my case and strapping on my guitar and finding the key." I lean forward, wincing at the pull in my ribs.

Maggie's eyes are bright with curiosity. "And you just started playing?"

"Yeah. The chord progression is pretty simple. E minor to A minor with this cool walking bass line Cam was doing. I matched his rhythm, added some harmonics." I drum my fingers against my knee, recreating the pattern. "Then the chorus hit and I just… sang."

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