Page 114 of Even Beneath the Stars

Xavier

this is different

Maggs

you've totally got this

don't think about the crowd

just think about the music

Xavier

FUCK im freaking out

I was anticipating these pre-show freak-out texts, and I came prepared.

Maggs

remove your phone from your phone case

Xavier

???

Maggs

just do it

and then go out there and rock the roof off this joint xox

He doesn't text back, and a few minutes later, the house lights dim, and the crowd surges forward. My heart pounds in time with the building cheers.

"XAVE, YOU'RE THE MAAAAN!" Seb hollers through his cupped hands. He's standing on his chair again, and Caroline's tugging him down by his shirt.

"Seb! Get down! Seriously. Or I'm going to elaborate on how your center of gravity shifts when—"

The lights come on and the guys walk out onto the stage. The crowd screams louder.

"YOU GOT THIS X-MAN!" Seb roars. Still on his chair. Still grinning from ear to ear.

The lights catch Xave’s muscled shoulders as he steps out last, head bowed, casting shadows across the sharp angles of his face. He moves with that effortless grace of his, and my heart does a full gymnastics routine as he passes the stage monitor, guitar hanging low across his broad chest, the worn leather strap a stark contrast against the soft grey cotton of his T-shirt. My pulse stutters at the sight of those damn jeans, riding dangerously low on his hips, and the way the warm glow around him highlights the curve of his full lips… the slow bob of his throat as he forces a hard swallow.

And then I see it—right there on his forearm, impossible to miss under the stage lights: a large tattoo of a grinning ant perched on long stilts, with the words above in bold bubble letters: "I don't need luck, I've got tall-ant"—the temporary tattoo from Finn that I helped him hide between Xavier's phone and his phone case before he left for soundcheck this afternoon.

A laugh bubbles up in my chest.

My palms are sweating, and my heart's racing double-time, but I can't wipe the smile off my face. The crowd's screaming reaches fever pitch as Xave steps up to the mic, shoulders dipping with a sharp exhale. His head is still ducked, messy waves falling into his face. And for a second, he just stands there, unwittingly drawing out the anticipation, his hand brushing over his guitar strings like a nervous habit. He raises it briefly to rake through his hair before letting it fall back to the guitar.

Then his head rises, slow and deliberate, his waves falling back to reveal a face that looks almost fragile under the stage lights. The cheers amp up, a bunch of friends screaming his name. His gaze skims the crowd, his tongue wetting his lips.

And then he finds me.

His lips part like he’s about to say something, but then he bites the corner of his lip, a flicker of nervous energy sparking in his eyes before it smooths into an almost-smirk. Crooked and warm. Bashful and daring. And it’s like he’s just decided this moment is his.

"Hey," he says, his voice deep and gravelly over the mic. "Thanks for coming out tonight." The crowd screams louder. "We're Salt Vein."

Chapter Forty-Four

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