Page 82 of Even Beneath the Stars

"So, are you in?"

"Uh…"AmI?

“I’m not usually big on playing by the rules, but I’ll play by yours. For this, anyway.” He tilts his head, just enough to watch me through his lashes, mouth twitching at the corner as he drags a thumb along the edge of his jaw. “I’m kind of excited to plan a date. If you're into it, I mean.”

He'splanninga date… Okay, when he puts it that way, it sounds like… well—likemore. A bigger deal than just dinner and a movie. "Yes," I tell him. "I'm into it."

"I'll pick you up after school. What time do you get off tomorrow?"

"Uh… four?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?" He laughs.

"Telling you."

What is even happening right now? Xavier is planning a date—for me. Forus.My stomach does a little flip at the realization that I'm experiencing the sweet side of Xavier right now. The one who goes out of his way to make his brother happy, and who writes beautiful music when he thinks no one is listening.

"Cool." He grins.

This time, when he reaches for my hand, I let him take it.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Maggie

Ispot Xavier as soon as I walk out of the main school doors, and my heart does this weird flip-flop thing. He's leaning against his car in the pick-up circle, one hand tucked casually in his pocket, the other scrolling on his phone. And somehow, he manages to look both cool and aristocratic at the same time, with his faded, frayed jeans, preppy puffer jacket, and deliciously disheveled hair that catches the winter sunlight.

The bruising on his face has faded to a lurid greenish yellow, less noticeable beneath the rosy coloring of his cheeks. A hue of pink just a shade paler than his full lips. He smirks at something on his phone, making his dimple pop.

I pause at the top of the school steps, adjusting my backpack strap and trying to calm my racing pulse. It's just Xavier. The same Xavier who drives me crazy on a daily basis.

The same Xavier who almost kissed me last night.

Okay, maybe not helping with the whole staying-calm thing.

A group of sophomore girls walks past him, giggling and stealing not-so-subtle glances. Another group slows as they pass, murmuring in hurried whispers. So many people keenly aware of who he is, while Xavier appears oblivious. Or maybe it isn't so much oblivion as familiarity with these kinds of reactions to his presence. The thought makes me want to turn around and go back inside.

But then he glances up, those hazel eyes finding mine instantly like he somehow sensed me standing here. He drops the hand holding his phone, and the slight grin transforms into something warmer, more genuine. Something that makes my knees feel a little weak.

I make my way down the steps, trying to keep my pace casual even though my heart's doing a drum solo.

"Hey," I say, hoping my voice sounds steadier than it feels.

He pushes off his car, reaching for my backpack. "I wasn't sure which door you'd come out of."

Our fingers brush as he takes my bag, and that split-second of contact sends tingles up my arm. I watch him toss it into the back seat, grateful he's not doing the whole door-opening routine, which would feel forced and weird, especially given the glimmer of awkwardness now that our relationship evolved from mutual antagonism to whatever this is now.

I slide into the passenger seat, hyper-aware of how close we'll be sitting. The leather seat is warm from the sun streaming through the windshield, but I still feel goosebumps rising on my arms. Everything feels different now—the air between us charged with possibility after last night's almost-kiss.

The car smells like him—a mix of subtle cologne and outdoors. It's both comforting and nerve-wracking at the same time, which pretty much sums up how I feel about this whole situation.

"Ready?" He's got one hand on the wheel, the other draped lazily over the gearshift.

My brain promptly short-circuits. "Uh, yep."

He glances up in his rearview mirror, then leans back to check his blind spot as he pulls out. His gaze pauses, giving me a lazy once-over. "I see you dressed in your most under-stated, refined outfit for the occasion." He grins.

I tug open my unzipped blue jacket to check out the vintage cassette-tape graphic tee I layered under my chunky forest-green cardigan, down to my dark jeans cuffed over bright yellow lace-up boots.

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