“You don’t know him because he doesn’t exist.” I hop on one of the stools around the kitchen island. “’I don’t exactly have boys banging down my door, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“Yeah, but that’s because you’re hard to approach,” Xavier says like it’s obvious, resting his forearms flat against the counter.
“Excuse me?” I’m taken aback.
“You heard me. You’re intimidating as shit.”
“What?” I’m stunned by his bluntness. “That’s not true. I’m very approachable.”
He snorts. “Sure you are.”
“Fine. Enlighten me, then.” I rise off my stool. “How am I intimidating?”
If Mr. All-Star knows why I’ve been a boy repellent my whole life, you bet I’m going to make him tell me.
“You really want to know?” He drags out the suspense.
“Yes.” I grow restless. “Spill.”
“Well, for starters… most guys our age aren’t looking to date.” He elaborates. “They just want to fuck around. And those who do want to date are only looking for a girl to make them feel good about themselves.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning they want her to laugh at their jokes, stroke their egos, give good head and… that’s pretty much it.” He draws a small smile out of me. “So, when guys like that see a girl like you, a girl who doesn’t look easy or desperate, they get intimidated. Label her high-maintenance and run like hell. You’re beauty and brains, Vee. You’re an immature high school boy’s worst nightmare.”
I can’t form a sentence. I expected something along the lines of “You’re so closed off” or “You don’t smile enough,” but this? Nothing, absolutely nothing, prepared me for this.
“But hey, that’s just my two cents.” He pushes off the counter.
Heat spreads to my cheeks. I suck in a breath, crossing the space between us—don’t ask me where I got this courage from, I have no idea. We’re not even that close and I feel like every nerve in my body is on high alert.
“And you?” I surprise myself by saying.
I dare another step forward and think I see his throat bob.
“Me what?” he asks, his voice a bit husky.
“Do you find me intimidating?”
I hold my breath as he gazes down my face for long seconds. He looks like he’s trying to decide whether or not to tell me.
Finally, he makes up his mind.
“Always have, Vee.”
Slow the fuck down, pulse.
“I—”
“Dia, wait!” Finn’s panicked voice echoes all the way from the second floor the next second.
My stomach plummets to my feet.
This isn’t good.
My best friend comes bursting into the kitchen the next second, teary eyes burning with rage and tan cheeks stained by mascara. Her once perfectly defined curls are now a wild, tangled mess. They definitely weren’t playing Tic Tac Toe up there.
“Vee. Car. Now!” Dia orders.