Page 88 of Even Beneath the Stars

I snort from my position on the ice. "Liar."

"No really—you managed to stay up for almost thirty seconds that time."

"Oh wow, thirty whole seconds. Olympic speed skating team, here I come!"

His laugh echoes across the pond as he helps me up again. Despite my complete lack of skating ability, my cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

I can't help staring as Xavier glides across the ice. His movements are fluid, powerful—each stride eating up the distance between the nets. The way he carves into his stops sends crystalline sheets of ice flying, catching the last rays of sunlight like diamond dust. Even with his injuries, there's an easy grace to how he moves, like the ice is just an extension of himself.

"Doesn't that hurt your ribs?" I call out as he executes another sharp turn.

"Nah, it's good for me." He circles back, barely breathing hard. "Need to keep moving or they'll stiffen up."

He disappears into a small wooden shack at the edge of the pond, emerging with two hockey sticks and a puck. "Here." He tosses me one of the sticks. "Let's see what you've got."

"Oh, God." I fumble the catch but manage not to fall. "I can barely stand up straight."

"That's why I'm giving you a handicap." He skates over to the goal, positioning himself dead center. "I'll even stay in one spot."

Even with Xavier giving me about three times more space than a real goalie would, I miss spectacularly. Again. And again. The puck goes wide, hits the post, or dribbles pathetically short of the net.

But then—miracle of miracles—one shot makes it in, sliding right betweenXavier's legs.

"Yes!" I throw my arms up in victory, promptly losing my balance. Xavier catches me before I hit the ice.

"Nice shot." His breath fans warm against my cold cheek. "You've got mad skills."

"Right?" I laugh.

We take turns shooting and playing goalie until the light is too dim to see clearly. I'm terrible at both positions, but I haven't laughed this much in ages. And every spectacular miss just becomes another reason to laugh together.

The last traces of sunlight have faded from the sky, leaving us in the soft blue twilight. Xavier helps me back to the bench, and once we're back in our boots, he pulls a flask out of his backpack.

"Hot chocolate," he tells me as he unscrews the lid. "Candice's secret recipe."

The metal flask is warm against my frozen fingers as Xavier passes it to me, the rich scent of cocoa wafting from the opening.

"I freaking love Candice."

"Yeah. She's cool."

We pass the flask back and forth, letting the hot chocolate warm us from the inside out. The steam from the flask mingles with our breath in the cold air, creating little clouds that drift up toward the first appearing stars.

"That was… really fun," Xavier says, the shadows highlighting the planes of his face and masking the bruises. He pulls his beanie off and tosses it onto the bench beside him.

"It was a blast," I agree.

"You know…" He takes the flask back, his fingers brushing mine. "I don't totally hate your three dates rule."

I almost choke on my last sip of hot chocolate. "Seriously?"

He shrugs, scratching the side of his neck as he glances away.

Once I've regained my composure, I explain. "I mean, it's just, I would have thought with, you know—with your… uh… I mean, the way you kind of…" My voice trails off, because I'm suddenly aware how impossible it is to say what I'm about to, without sounding judgmental.

"The way I'm a 'total player'?" he finishes for me, semi-teasingly, referencing my words from that text exchange the other night.

"I just mean, you seem pretty relaxed with how quickly, and maybe… you know—how frequently—your relationships with girls… fast-track to Makeoutsville, population: you and some lucky girl."

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