He’s hiding me.
But from what?
“What the hell are you doin—”
His index finger cuts to my lips, shutting me right up.
Then I hear them.
The voices, the running footsteps outside of the classroom. “We got another one. Back door. Chasing him now,” I hear an officer shout on the radio, his words shrouded by static.
My mouth drops in realization, and I look up at my pen pal, only to find him already staring at me. It doesn’t take a degree to figure out who they’re referring to.
It’s Theo.
He got caught.
And if it weren’t for Xav stopping me, we’d be the ones getting chased. If he hadn’t heard them first and dragged me away from the door, the cops would’ve seen us through the window.
A door slams in the distance, and I jump, clutching Xavier’s varsity jacket instinctively. I think I see a smirk forming on the corner of his lips, and my cheeks blaze with embarrassment.
Jesus Christ, how does he smell this good?
Is it his cologne?
His fabric softener?
Makes me want to sniff him.
Don’t you dare sniff him.
We remain in this position, with my face level to his torso and my fingers squeezing the fabric of his jacket, until the noises subside. I let go of him with a gulp, giving him the green light to back away from me, which he does too soon.
Too fast.
As he moves back, I catch myself yearning for more. More of his nice-smelling fabric softener. More of his infuriatingly toned body on mine. More of that feeling I get when he stands this close. But “more” wasn’t made for girls like me…
Especially not with the captain of the basketball team.
Plus, it’s not like I ever had a real shot with him anyway. The guy doesn’t do love. His last confession made that clear. I beg my emotions to take a beat. Beg my composure to return to me, but the stupid butterflies in my stomach are having a hard-core party, and they’re not going home anytime soon.
“I… Thanks for the save.”
“Anytime.” Xavier clears his throat, rubbing at the back of his neck, and for a fragment of a second, I wonder if he felt whatever that was, too.
“So… what do we do now?”
“The only thing we can do.” He shrugs. “Wait.”
I watch as Xavier plops down on the floor, back against the wall, and braces his forearms on top of his knees. A silence as thick as they come enfolds us. For the first time since I stepped into the classroom, it occurs to me that my texting buddy is right there.
My snarky pen pal.
Right. Fucking. There.
Xavier is Zac.
Zac is Xavier.