Page 55 of Framed

At least that crossed her off of my suspect list. I wished I could be relieved it wasn’t her but that just meant I had no clue who this person was. Whoever started sending me notes had to go here, or at least know someone who did. This wasn’t the type of campus you could just walk into.

For a moment I stood frozen in the middle of my room, my feet rooted to the floor as I stared at the small rectangular card that sat neatly on my pillow.

I glanced down at my hands, which were shaking uncontrollably. It had nothing to do with the cold. I attempted to steel my nerves and walk toward my bed but it was like my limbs were stuck, cemented to the floor beneath me.

What if whoever placed the note was still here? The door was locked when I got back but what if they came in through my window?

“Scarlett?” My eyes closed involuntarily at the voice and a rush of air expelled from my lungs.He’s here. “I tried calling you twice but it went straight to voicemail. Why is your front door open?” Xavier called from the doorway.

For once, I didn’t feel on edge or contemptuous. Instead, I felt relief at the sound of Xavier’s gravelly voice.He was here. He always was.

Until he wasn’t.

Xavier had been avoiding me since he reluctantly hired me but I could always feel his eyes. Those damn eyes could ignite a fire with one of those searing looks of his. I tried to convince myself it was just his job. That he was watching me because he had to, because he was being paid to. But whenever we locked eyes, I knew it was more. I knew that glint in his eye, the one that made my insides melt and core throb was more than that. That I was more than just a job for him.

But I knew he would never act on it. I couldn’t say I wanted him to. Unlike Kane, it was easy to get lost in Xavier, to get lost in what we once had, and I wasn’t sure if my heart could take losing him again. For real this time. He was so close yet still so far.

With Kane, it was different. I went on a date today and I enjoyed myself. He was nice and made me smile. Made me feel seen.

But he would never make my body react with sweet torture like Xavier. He would never own my heart. Maybe that made me a bad person for still allowing him to feel things for me. For allowing him to believe we could be more.

Or maybe that made me human. Maybe I wanted a simpler guy than Xavier. Someone who didn’t own me entirely.Someone who wasn’t a risk.

“Scarlett?” He tried again, his voice closer than before. From my peripheral, I could see that he was standing at a safe distance beside me. He made no attempt to move past or closer to me.

I opened my mouth but nothing came out. I was mute, unable to respond because my mouth was dry and my tongue felt like it weighed a ton.

“Scar,” he said, softer this time as he closed the remaining distance. I squeezed my eyes shut again as his amberwood scent seduced my nose, calming parts of me I couldn’t even reach. He was so close, I could just reach out to touch him. To hug him. I wanted to. “What’s wrong?”

A step closer and I could feel his body heat, I could feel his fingers graze my skin. The touch was light but sparked a fire inside of me. My emotions were in a frenzy, cold and hot fighting for control. Fear and sweet torture raged a battle inside of me and I fought to pick a side. I fought to offer a ceasefire. But my emotions had a mind of their own.

Several seconds passed until I finally found my words, deciding that this time I wanted to do this differently. This time, I wanted to face the fact I couldn’t do this alone. I wouldn’t let the fear overtake me.

I forced myself to believe that I was appealing to Briggs’ employee and not my former friend. I forced myself to believe that I wasn’t allowing us to step into new territory.

Somewhere foreign. Somewhere we both were too afraid to explore back then because of Naomi, because of our friendship.

Maybe it would backfire, but at least I could say I tried.

I looked him dead in the eye and said, “The note on my sofa.”

Xavier’s whole body tensed and he spared a glance in my direction. His jaw was locked and his face was hard, now devoid of all emotion, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes I couldn’t decipher. That I couldn’t place.

It served as a reminder that the boy I once knew was not the man who stood in front of me. This Xavier was different. This Xavier was hardened, cruel, and closed off to the world. Still, a part of me held out hope that a glimmer of the boy still existed deep inside of him. That he would be that boy for me at this moment, when I needed him the most. I wouldn’t dare say it but I hoped he could sense it, like he always had been able to.

He walked over and paused after he grabbed the note. Much like the others, it was blank to the naked eye. I went to tell him that but to my surprise, he already had his phone out, flicking his flashlight on to shine over the card.

“How…” I whispered, my throat impossibly drier than before. I shook my head in disbelief. He shouldn’t have known to do that. Unless… “How did you know to do that?”

I held my breath as the seconds that felt like minutes passed. I needed to know. I needed to hear him say it.

“How long?” was all he responded. I didn’t need to ask him to elaborate. I knew what he was asking. He wanted to know how long I’d been receiving the notes.

He turned and a gasp escaped my lips as I stared at him. His eyes were full of anguish, anger, and confusion as he clutched the note like a lifeline. This was the first time in over six years I saw anything but indifference or anger in Xavier. The first time I got a glimpse back to the boy I once knew and it made my frozen heart melt.

“How long have you been getting the notes, butterfly?”

A foreign sound fell out of my mouth before I was able to mask it with my palm at the use of my old nickname. It was between a whimper and a groan. He first called me that after I went through puberty. I was insecure about having breasts when the rest of our class didn’t. I cried and cried to Naomi, practically inconsolable, until one day Xavier told me I shouldn’t be ashamed that I blossomed before the rest of the class. He said I was his butterfly.

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