Page 34

Chapter Thirty-Four

Maggie

" F ive minutes." Xavier kills the engine. "Dress warm." We're back at the Rockwell Estate, where apparently the second part of the date is going to take place.

"What? Why?"

He's already climbing out of the car. "Just do it, LeClair."

"But—"

"Four minutes and forty-five seconds."

I bolt inside and sprint up the stairs, my mind spinning with possibilities. Something outdoors. Something that requires warm clothes.

My hands shake a little as I dig through my closet. Not from cold—from excitement. It's weird being on this side of things. Usually I'm the one planning everything, organizing every detail. But here's Xavier being the organizer and… I kind of love it.

I layer up—thermal shirt, sweater, my warmest jacket. Thick socks. Hat.

"Two minutes!" Xavier's voice echoes up the stairs.

"Coming!" I grab my gloves and race back down, nearly colliding with him at the bottom.

"Whoa there, Sonic." He steadies me with both hands.

I'm grinning like an idiot. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see." He tugs my hat down over my eyes, and my heart does a little flip when his fingers brush my chin.

"Hey!" I readjust it, catching his smirk. "At least tell me if I'm dressed warm enough. "

He looks me up and down, then laughs. "You look like you're ready for an avalanche."

"You planned an avalanche for the second part of our date?" I stretch my eyes in mock awe. "Cool! A date where I have to sign a liability waiver."

He chuckles. "Ready?"

I nod, not trusting my voice right now.

The smell of chocolate chip cookies hits me as we pass the kitchen. I stop short, guilt twisting in my stomach at the sight of Finn in his little apron, standing on a stool next to Candice.

"Hold up." I touch Xavier's arm, then go over to the kitchen, up to the counter. "Candice, are you sure you're good with—"

"Girl, we are perfect." Candice waves her spatula at me. "Finn's teaching me his secret cookie recipe, aren't you, buddy?"

"The secret is extra chips!" Finn dumps another handful into the bowl.

"That's… a lot of chocolate chips." I bite my lip.

"Exactly!" Finn beams. "And Candice says we can make smashed-up potatoes after!"

"See? They've got plans." Xavier stoops to grab a backpack from the floor, wincing as he straightens. He slings it over one shoulder, as Candice shoots him a knowing wink.

"Are you sure?" I can't help feeling bad as I watch Finn cracking an entire egg onto the counter.

Candice points her spatula at the door. "Out. Both of you. We've got important baking business to attend to."

"I don't—"

"Maggie." Xavier's voice has that mix of amusement and exasperation I'm starting to recognize. He extends his hand to me. "They're fine."

Gloves clutched in one hand and the other in Xave's, I let him pull me toward the door, calling over my shoulder, "Text me if you need anything!"

"We won't!" Candice and Finn chorus together.

I'm pretty sure Candice suspects this outing is a little more than Xave and I just "hanging out". I'm also pretty sure, based on her reaction, that she isn't too bothered by that fact. If anything, she seems excited. Almost like she's Xavier's co-conspirator.

Xavier leads me toward the back of the house. His palm is warm against mine, and I'm pretty sure I could power the whole mansion with the electricity buzzing through me right now.

Whatever he's planned, I already know this is going to be the best second-part-of-a-first-date ever.

The snow crunches under our boots as we round the corner of the palatial home. Two rugged four-wheelers sit waiting, their black frames stark against the white landscape.

"Your chariot awaits." Xavier pats one of the seats. "You can either drive your own or hop on behind me if you prefer."

"Are you kidding? Of course I'm driving my own!" I rock forward on my heels, already scanning the controls.

"I kinda figured." His grin catches the fading sunlight. He tosses me a helmet, then pulls his own on.

The engine rumbles to life beneath me, sending vibrations through my whole body. Xavier leads us down a narrow trail between towering pines, their branches heavy with fresh snow. The estate spreads out before us like something from a fairy tale—pristine drifts sparkling in the golden hour light, animal tracks crisscrossing the powder.

We weave through the trees, my confidence growing with each turn. The trails split and merge, creating an intricate web across the property. Xavier signals left or right at each fork, leading us deeper into this winter wonderland.

Snow flies from our wheels as we power up small hills and cruise through valleys. Xavier glances back occasionally, checking on me, and I give him a thumbs up each time. In return, he flashes a smile bright enough for me to see even through his visor; more genuine than any I've seen on him before.

The forest opens into a clearing, and I gasp. The setting sun paints the snow in shades of pink and orange, making the whole scene glow. Untouched powder stretches before us, just begging for tracks.

Xavier cuts his engine and lifts his visor. "Ever done donuts?"

I lift my own visor, letting the crisp air hit my face. "No. But I've always wanted to."

He grins, wiping a palm across his face. His cheeks are flushed and his lips even pinker. He revs his engine. "Keep your weight balanced and lean into the turn!" he calls just before flipping his visor back down.

I flip mine down too, and watch him, grinning, as he demonstrates four tight donuts in a row. Snow kicks up in glittering waves, catching the last of the sunlight like sparks off a fuse. For a second, he disappears into the swirl of it, just motion and brightness and this wild, effortless energy. The sound of his engine echoes off the trees, sharp and alive as he pulls off to the other side of the clearing to watch as I attempt my very first donut.

Which I nail, thank you very much.

I scream at the top of my lungs. "Yeeeeeehaw! Ride 'em, cowboy!"

The sound of Xavier's full-body laugh reaches me through the growl of the engine as I spin past him.

We each do a few more, then Xavier gestures for me to follow him down a narrower trail farther ahead. And a couple of minutes later, we pull out into an even bigger clearing. At its center is a massive frozen pond, hockey nets standing sentinel at each end. The setting sunset reflects on the ice in shades of rose gold and amber, and long shadows from the surrounding pines stretch across the pristine surface.

Xavier cuts his engine and signals for me to do the same. The sudden silence feels magical, broken only by the soft whisper of wind through the pines.

We pull off our helmets, and I catch my breath at the sight of him. His hair is delightfully mussed from the helmet, and his cheeks and the tip of his nose are flushed from the cold and excitement .

"That was AWESOME!" I beam at him, still buzzing with adrenaline.

"You liked it?" His grin is different from his usual smirk—open… genuine. Pleased. The dying sunlight catches in his eyes, turning them from hazel to pure honey.

"Are you kidding? That was the best time ever! The donuts? The trails? Everything!" I practically skip over to where he's standing.

He runs a hand through his disheveled hair, his grin widening. "Yeah?"

"Totally."

He nods, still grinning.

The snow crunches under my boots as I join him by his four-wheeler. He reaches back, releasing the bungee cord holding his backpack in place.

"Do you skate?" he asks, unzipping the pack.

"Like, a wee bit."

"Good enough." Then he pauses, eyebrows raised. "Wait—do you like skating?"

I laugh, "Oh, yeah. I just suck… Bad."

"Cool." He nods. "We can work with that." He pulls a dark beanie over his head, covering his ears, wisps of thick hair curling out the sides and back. He resumes digging in the backpack.

"Wait—are those new ?" I gasp as he pulls out two pairs of skates—one well-worn black pair and one pristine, bright pink pair with tags still attached.

"I didn't have any girls' skates," he says with a casual shrug, but I catch the slight flush creeping up his neck that has nothing to do with the cold.

"Xavier. You didn't need to—"

"Besides," he cuts me off with a grin, "they're pink and loud—they were practically made just for you."

A laugh bubbles up before I can stop it. "Okay, that's fair." And then I add, "Wait, when did you even have time to get these?"

"I had a spare this morning."

I swear my heart rate stutters. He spent his spare period this morning going out and getting skates for me just for our date.

We plop down on what looks like a fallen tree that's been smoothed into a bench and lace our skates.

The next hour passes in a blur of failed attempts at staying vertical. For every minute I manage to stay upright, I spend three sprawled on the ice. Xavier glides around me with infuriating grace, always there with an outstretched hand when I inevitably topple over.

"You're getting better," he says after my twentieth fall.

I snort from my position on the ice. "Liar."

"No really—you managed to stay up for almost thirty seconds that time."

"Oh wow, thirty whole seconds. Olympic speed skating team, here I come!"

His laugh echoes across the pond as he helps me up again. Despite my complete lack of skating ability, my cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

I can't help staring as Xavier glides across the ice. His movements are fluid, powerful—each stride eating up the distance between the nets. The way he carves into his stops sends crystalline sheets of ice flying, catching the last rays of sunlight like diamond dust. Even with his injuries, there's an easy grace to how he moves, like the ice is just an extension of himself.

"Doesn't that hurt your ribs?" I call out as he executes another sharp turn.

"Nah, it's good for me." He circles back, barely breathing hard. "Need to keep moving or they'll stiffen up."

He disappears into a small wooden shack at the edge of the pond, emerging with two hockey sticks and a puck. "Here." He tosses me one of the sticks. "Let's see what you've got."

"Oh, God." I fumble the catch but manage not to fall. "I can barely stand up straight."

"That's why I'm giving you a handicap." He skates over to the goal, positioning himself dead center. "I'll even stay in one spot."

Even with Xavier giving me about three times more space than a real goalie would, I miss spectacularly. Again. And again. The puck goes wide, hits the post, or dribbles pathetically short of the net.

But then—miracle of miracles—one shot makes it in, sliding right between Xavier's legs.

"Yes!" I throw my arms up in victory, promptly losing my balance. Xavier catches me before I hit the ice.

"Nice shot." His breath fans warm against my cold cheek. "You've got mad skills."

"Right?" I laugh.

We take turns shooting and playing goalie until the light is too dim to see clearly. I'm terrible at both positions, but I haven't laughed this much in ages. And every spectacular miss just becomes another reason to laugh together.

The last traces of sunlight have faded from the sky, leaving us in the soft blue twilight. Xavier helps me back to the bench, and once we're back in our boots, he pulls a flask out of his backpack.

"Hot chocolate," he tells me as he unscrews the lid. "Candice's secret recipe."

The metal flask is warm against my frozen fingers as Xavier passes it to me, the rich scent of cocoa wafting from the opening.

"I freaking love Candice."

"Yeah. She's cool."

We pass the flask back and forth, letting the hot chocolate warm us from the inside out. The steam from the flask mingles with our breath in the cold air, creating little clouds that drift up toward the first appearing stars.

"That was… really fun," Xavier says, the shadows highlighting the planes of his face and masking the bruises. He pulls his beanie off and tosses it onto the bench beside him.

"It was a blast," I agree.

"You know…" He takes the flask back, his fingers brushing mine. "I don't totally hate your three dates rule."

I almost choke on my last sip of hot chocolate. " Seriously?"

He shrugs, scratching the side of his neck as he glances away.

Once I've regained my composure, I explain. "I mean, it's just, I would have thought with, you know—with your… uh… I mean, the way you kind of…" My voice trails off, because I'm suddenly aware how impossible it is to say what I'm about to, without sounding judgme ntal.

"The way I'm a 'total player'?" he finishes for me, semi-teasingly, referencing my words from that text exchange the other night.

"I just mean, you seem pretty relaxed with how quickly, and maybe… you know—how frequently—your relationships with girls… fast-track to Makeoutsville, population: you and some lucky girl."

Xavier barks out a laugh. "Wha- What?" He leans in, dragging his teeth across his lower lip, eyebrows both arched. "Makeoutsville?"

"Hit the fast lane to PDA Central with zero pit stops?" I offer.

He drags his knuckles along his jaw, still staring, lips parted. His expression is a cross between taken aback, amused, and concerned about my mental health.

"Go from casual convo to a full-blown Passionflix makeout montage before the popcorn’s even done popping?"

"Okay. Think I get the idea."

"I've got more, if you want."

He shakes his head slowly. Twice.

But I hit him with one more, just for good measure. Also, because, this is kind of fun. "Accelerate from witty banter to ‘whoops, we’re horizontal’ like a rom-com that skipped Act Two?"

His fingers rake through his wavy locks. "Yeah, okay. I may be known to… skip the slow-burn romance and jump straight to the director’s cut." He grins at his own decent addition to my impressive list of one-liners. "But usually, it's different. With other girls. I'm not invested or anything, and they know that. Just like I know I'm basically… a conquest or something, for them." He drops his hand, and picks up the beanie again, turning it over in his lap. "It's just… a distraction? I guess?" He shrugs a little self-consciously, peering up at me through his dark lashes.

"And now?" I push, tampering down the fireflies fluttering in my chest.

"Now? It feels different." His eyes meet mine again, something in his gaze more solid this time. More intense. Then he adds, "Now… I'm invested."

Oh. Wow… I wasn't expecting that.

"This is better," he says motioning toward the lake… the flask on the log between us… me .

I inhale a shaky breath. Because this feels like a big deal— for him to admit that an afternoon adventure with me with zero physical intimacy is better than a full-on romp between the sheets with almost 'any hot girl he wants'.

He shrugs again, but there's something vulnerable in the gesture. After a moment of silence, his voice drops lower. "So…do you still want to go on a second date?"

Our eyes meet, and my heart stutters. The usual swagger is gone, replaced by something softer. Real. More relatable than anything else about him.

"I definitely do." I smile. "These past few hours were amazing, Xave."

His shoulders relax slightly. "Yeah?"

" Amazing, " I repeat, and then more softly, "And I know what you mean… I feel invested, too."

He presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek. "First time for everything, huh? We're actually on the same page."

"Yup." I laugh. "And I'll plan the next date." I bump his shoulder with mine. "But just so you know, I'm not even going to try to top this one. It was perfect."

"And you're surprised?" The smirk is back.

Only it doesn't annoy me anymore. It does still affect me, but in an entirely different way.

"You're so arrogant," I scoff.

"Confident."

"Arrogant."

"Agree to disagree."

I flick his chest. "Bossy biscuit."