Page 125 of Even Beneath the Stars

"Okay. Yes… I promise."

"Call him my honeybuns or my fuzzy nugget. Just not 'beau'."

"Uh, let's maybe scratch fuzzy nugget, too," Xavier adds tentatively. "If that's okay."

"I think fuzzy nugget is cute," Silas says, smirking at Xavier, who looks totally baffled, slightly amused, but has a smile on his face, at least.

So, I'll take it.

"Well? It wasn't that bad, right?" I knock my shoulder against Xave's once we're in the car heading back to his place. "I mean, other than the whole weird slant on 'no boinking until you're adults', when mom called you my beau." I roll my eyes. "God, I still can't believe she used the word'beau'for real life."

Xave chuckles. "Yeah, becausethatwas the part that was most uncomfortable for me." He's all sarcasm and dry humor now.

I laugh then wait a few seconds before asking, "But seriously? How was it?"

"It was good." Our eyes meet before he looks back at the road. "Your mom is… she's really cool."

"She's the best."

"Yeah."

He's still being really quiet, and we drive for a while before he finally speaks up again. "I like your home… it's nice."

I can tell he means it, too.

My homeisgreat. Cozy and welcoming and cluttered, but in the best kind of way, like all good homes should be.

"Yeah, it's cool," I agree. "We painted all the walls when we moved in. We have a strict no-white-walls-anywhere philosophy."

"Shocking."

"I know, right?"

We both laugh.

He doesn't say anything after that, though. I thought he'd be a lot more relaxed and happier now that the evening's over and it went so smoothly. He met my mom, survived dinner, and got along with Silas. He smiled—more than once. So why does it feel like something is still unraveling beneath his skin?

We should be celebrating. Laughing about my mom and her ridiculous romance novels. But instead, there’s this silence sitting between us, waiting to be named. So, I keep waiting for him to say more. Still, the silence stretches, thick and unspoken, like a secret he’s too afraid to share. And maybe I should let it go. Pretend I don’t notice the way his shoulders are still tense, the way he keeps swallowing like he’s trying to push something down. Because Xavier Rockwell, master of casual confidence, looks like he’s bracing for impact. And I have no idea when it's going to hit us.

Chapter Forty-Nine

Maggie

Time passes in pieces. Some parts feel like they’re speeding forward so fast I can barely hold onto them, while others stretch out, lingering in a way that feels too heavy to carry.

The days blur into a rhythm of Salt Vein rehearsals, stolen moments with Xavier, and a growing sense of something shifting beneath the surface. The band is together constantly, locked away in garages and basements and the new sound-proofed room at the Rockwell Estate, hammering out their sound, finalizing songs, tightening harmonies.

Sometimes I just sit in the corner of their sessions, watching Xavier completely lose himself in the music, the way he has since I've known him. He’s protective of the music, giving it the weight and time it deserves, the rest of the world be damned. He fights for the band's sound, for their space to create, blocking out the noise and the sudden flood of outside expectations.

And then, he’s gone. To L.A. and New York, flying across the country for meetings, photoshoots, and recording sessions. The guys have a tutor who travels with them, since they're doing so much of their schoolwork remotely now.

When he leaves, he texts me constantly. When he’s home, we carve out time to be together. And usually, it's perfect.

But sometimes, it feels like something's off. Like something's slipping away.

Meanwhile, Finn is thriving.

He and Lumen are practically inseparable now, constantly running around the Rockwell Estate, building elaborate Lego worlds, baking cookies, andpretending the banister is a pirate ship mast. He has playdates with a couple of other kids, too. And gets invited to his first-ever sleepover.

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