Page 83 of Detectives in Love

Xavier catches my eye, like he’s about to say something else, but then stops. His expression shifts—surprise flickers across his face. His whole demeanor changes.

“What?” I frown.

He stares for a beat, then says flatly, “Lipstick.”

“What?” I blink, caught off guard.

“You’ve got lipstick on your face.”

My hand shoots up to my cheek, but Xavier’s gaze doesn’t move—it stays locked on my mouth. Heat rises to my face, and I quickly wipe my lips with the back of my hand. He blinks, and I feel like I should say something—anything—so I blurt out,

“She kissed me…” I trail off, unsure how to finish. “It was awkward.”

Well, as awkward as this entire situation now.

Xavier doesn’t react. “Did you ask her about getting into Rishetor?”

“Yes. No.” I cough. “I haven’t asked yet.”

He says nothing. Just pulls out his phone and stares at the screen for a few seconds, his eyes unfocused.

I open my mouth, then close it again. It’d just come out like I’m defending myself.

“I invited Fred and Katie for dinner tomorrow,” I mumble, just to fill the silence. “And Bernard Nimoy.”

Xavier looks up at me, and the way he does it—like I’ve just punched him—makes something twist in my chest.

“Sorry I didn’t run it by you,” I say, hoping it softens things. “It kind of just…happened.”

“Okay,” he says, and it’s so flat it hurts more than if he’d actually been mad.

I blink. “I mean, if you really don’t want them here, I can move it somewhere else. That’s not a big deal.”

He just blinks back at me. “It’s fine.”

“Thanks,” I murmur. “You don’t even have to talk to them, honestly. Just sit through a bit, and then you can disappear to your room if you want…”

He doesn’t answer. His face doesn’t shift. I pull on my shirt, mostly to have something to do with my hands.

“I’ll skip it,” he says after a pause. “If that’s alright.”

“Sure,” I say, trying to read his face—trying to tell if he’s actually okay. That’s when Xavier’s lips twist into a faint smile, the kind that doesn’t reach his eyes. His whole expression hardens.

“I’ll be careful not to ruin your reputation in front of your friends,” he says, voice suddenly cool.

“My reputation?” I blink, caught off guard.

He nods. “Male. Heterosexual. Or whatever it is you’re trying so hard to protect.”

He turns to leave.

“I’m not—” I move after him, throat tight. “That’s not what I’m protecting.”

Xavier stops but doesn’t look back. “It’s fine,” he says flatly, as if he didn’t hear me at all. “Everyone will figure it out soon enough.”

“Figure what out?” I ask, confused, heart thudding.

“That it’s impossible,” he mutters, “for a sane person to love Xavier Ormond.”