Page 48

Chapter Forty-Eight

Maggie

" M y mom is going to love you." I squeeze Xavier's hand across the center console of his car. "Honestly, I think she already does, and she hasn't even met you."

Xavier's jaw tightens as he parks behind my vintage Subaru Brat. His knuckles whiten around the steering wheel.

"Hey." I poke his ribs. "You faced down a screaming crowd at the Foundry. My mom's going to be a piece of cake. Trust me, you're going to be stunned at how chill she is."

"Yeah, I know. I get that. It's not…" he trails off, running a hand through his hair.

"It's not what?" I really want him to finish that sentence.

He hasn't given me anything to help me understand why he's been so doggedly putting this meeting off. The guy is one of the most confident people I know when it comes to social situations. Whether it's adults or people our age or little kids. And I get why he'd be nervous in this instance—but not to the extent that he'd be this set on avoiding it.

"Nothing."

"It's not nothing, Xave." I work to conceal the frustration in my voice. I want him to know he can tell me whatever is stressing him out about this. But yeesh, the boy doesn't make it easy. "I'm not annoyed at all that you're nervous or… uncomfortable or whatever. I just want you to let me in a little, so I know what's going through your head. Maybe I can make this less stressful."

"It's fine. I'm not stressed. "

I let out a long sigh. "Okay, then—annoyed."

"I'm not annoyed."

He sounds annoyed. Clearly, we're not getting anywhere with this conversation, so we might as well get this show on the road.

"Right." I open my door, letting in a blast of cold air. Spring is finally crawling onto the scene, but evenings are still cold. "Come on, rock star. Silas is making his amazing quesadillas, and if you bail now, I'm eating your portion."

He laughs, at least. Half-heartedly, but I'll take it. I want to get inside. I know as soon as he's spent a few minutes with my mother, he'll be way more relaxed and realize he had nothing to freak out about.

Xave kills the engine and steps out onto the driveway. I thread my fingers with his, swinging our joined hands as we walk to the front door.

Mom's in the kitchen with Silas when we walk in, and her face lights right up. "Yaay! You guys are here!" She wipes her hands on a dish towel and makes her way over to greet us. "Xavier, hello! I'm so happy to finally meet you!"

Xave gifts her one of his swoon-worthy smiles. "Yeah, I'm sorry it took so long for—"

She waves a hand as she crosses the living room. "Don't apologize. You've had big things going on, I hear. And you're here now."Mom pulls him in for a hug, completely ignoring his offered hand.

His shoulders tense for a split second before relaxing into her embrace.

"It's so nice to meet you!" Mom squeezes him tight.

"Yeah, you too." Xavier's voice comes out softer than usual.

I catch Silas smirking at me from the kitchen doorway, clearly enjoying watching Xavier navigate Mom's enthusiastic welcome. I stick my tongue out at him when Mom isn't looking.

Mom pulls back from her hug. "Oh, you're so tall!" She turns to me. "He's so tall, honey."

I laugh. "Yeah, I'm aware, mom."

"Well, you never told me he's tall."

I roll my eyes at Xave and point to the right of the door. "Just throw your jacket on the chair there. "

He tosses his lined plaid shirt on top of mine, then pushes his hands in his pockets. "Hey, man." He nods at Silas in the kitchen.

Silas nods back. "You want a soda or anything?"

"Uh, yeah sure. Anything's fine." He walks over and grabs a Coke from Silas across the counter, then comes to join me on the couch, while Mom takes her favorite chair. And just like I knew she would be, Mom's totally chill. She asks Xave about the whole band thing, even though she already got the lowdown from me pretty much in real time. He asks her about the boardgame café, and how she likes Sandy Haven. The conversation flows easily, and hopefully Xave is feeling a little more relaxed.

I notice him looking around while we're talking, like he's taking everything in, not just skimming over it. And I really wish I knew what he was thinking. He can be so hard to read sometimes.

Soon, the quesadillas are ready, and the four of us are sitting around the small table my mother painted bright blue last summer on a whim.

I know we've successfully moved past the introductory "get-to-know-the-boyfriend" part of the evening when Mom leans forward just as we're all tucking into our second helping. "Oh, I don't think I told you guys the horrible news about Dominic," she says, hands on either side of her plate as she inhales through her nose.

"The army captain?" I ask, because it's hard keeping up with the various heroes from my mother's regency romantic life, now that I'm not living at home.

"No… That was Julian. Dominic is a highwayman."

"Like a robber?"

"Only much classier."

"Got it."

"I should warn you," mom leans in. "It's not good."

"What?" Silas asks, spooning more guacamole onto his plate. "Did my man Dom get his britches caught on his flintlock pistol while he was putting the moves on the librarian chick."

"Worse," mom groans .

"What'd he do?" I pause with my cutlery resting against my plate. It must be bad—mom was smitten with dashing Dominic last week when I was home.

"He called Elspeth Lambkins …"

"Whaaaaat?" I screech.

"While they were doing the deed," mom adds, pointing her fork at me.

"No way." I purse my lips, head shaking. "There's no coming back from that."

"I know." mom sighs again. "It's unforgivable."

" Lambkins? " Silas makes a face. "What the fuck?"

"Language, Silas," mom admonishes, although her heart's even less into it than even her usual half-assed chiding over Silas' cussing. She's taking this whole Lambkins bombshell pretty hard.

"Uh, Sorry…" Xave leans forward in his chair, looking between the three of us. "Who's Dominic?"

"The hero in the regency romance mom's reading," I explain. "A highwayman who doesn't know yet that he's actually a duke."

Xave's eyes stretch wide for a second, then he quickly schools his reaction. "Oh." He nods, swallowing. "Got it."

I glance at my mother. "At least, I'm assuming he's a duke."

"They aren't all dukes, Maggie… That's really presumptuous of you."

I arch an eyebrow at her, and she sighs. "Okay. So maybe most of them are dukes. But Dominic does know he's a duke and chose to abdicate his title." She takes a sip of water, then rolls her eyes. "I mean, not that it matters, since the Great Lambkins incident makes him utterly unappealing now, anyway."

"Totally called it." Silas drawls. "I told you yesterday the guy had no game. His moniker is The Starlit Scoundrel … I mean, come on."

"I know. I should have listened to you." She sighs, placing her glass back on the table. "Be honest, guys—I can't keep reading after that, can I?"

"No, mom." I tell her pointedly. "He called her Lambkins… while they were having sex."

Another sigh from my mother. "But up until then, he was so—"

"If he did it once, he'll do it again," I warn her. "Mom, you need to be strong here."

"I don't think the Lambkins thing is unforgivable," Xavier chimes in.

All three of our heads whip around in unison, mouths agape. " Lambkins, Xave," I remind him. "He called her Lambkins while they were doing the nasty."

"I mean, yeah." Xave scratches the side of his neck. "It's bad." He shrugs. "But it's not…unforgivable . "

"Bro," Silas says around a mouthful of quesadilla. "It's totally unforgivable."

Xave shakes his head, running a hand through his sandy waves. "Man… you guys are harsh."

"Well, someone's got to look out for the Elspeth's of the world," I protest.

Xave sets his fork down. "Maybe the Elspeth's of the world think it's hot being called Lambkins while they're… being intimate with their guy."

"There's no way," Mom and I say at the same time.

"Well, whoever wrote that book— they must've thought it was hot."

"He's got a point," Silas weighs in again, not looking up from checking a text on his phone.

"Silas, what the hell? You can't just suddenly switch to team Lambkins," I argue.

"Sure can." He reaches a fist out towards Xave, still scrolling on his phone. "Team Lambkins," he confirms.

Xave bumps his knuckles, then sits back.

"Just so we're clear," I tell Xavier. "If you ever call me Lambkins while we're fooling around, I'm breaking up with you."

"And if by fooling around, you're referring to sex," Mom cuts in before Xavier can respond, "I'll be the one breaking things off for both of you… And Maggie, your beau calling you Lambkins will be the least of your worries."

Xavier's eyes stretch wide, cheeks flushing a deep pink. And holy cow, is Xavier Rockwell blushing?

"We're not—We haven't—" He stumbles over his words.

I cut him off, saving him from further mortification. "Uh, mom—did you just call Xavier my beau? "

Mom looks momentarily puzzled. "I don't… I wouldn't refer to anyone as—"

"You did just call him her beau." Silas confirms. Then adds, "Which, to be clear, is just as bad as Lambkins."

"And proof that you need to ease up on the historical romances," I add.

"Did I really call him your beau?"

"Yes." Silas and I say in unison.

Xavier, meanwhile, is still recovering from the whole sex part of her comment and doesn't weigh in. Kind of funny that he's way more experienced than me in the 'physical intimacy' department, yet the mention of fooling around in front of my mother has him more flustered than poor Elspeth probably was over being referred to by her beau as Lambkins.

Mom leans over and places a hand on Xavier's forearm. "Xavier. I am so sorry. I promise to never refer to you as anyone's beau again."

"How about you just promise never to use the word 'beau' ever again; period?" I suggest.

"Okay. Yes… I promise."

"Call him my honeybuns or my fuzzy nugget. Just not 'beau'."

"Uh, let's maybe scratch fuzzy nugget, too," Xavier adds tentatively. "If that's okay."

"I think fuzzy nugget is cute," Silas says, smirking at Xavier, who looks totally baffled, slightly amused, but has a smile on his face, at least.

So, I'll take it.

"Well? It wasn't that bad, right?" I knock my shoulder against Xave's once we're in the car heading back to his place. "I mean, other than the whole weird slant on 'no boinking until you're adults', when mom called you my beau." I roll my eyes. "God, I still can't believe she used the word 'beau' for real life."

Xave chuckles. "Yeah, because that was the part that was most uncomfortable for me." He's all sarcasm and dry humor now .

I laugh then wait a few seconds before asking, "But seriously? How was it?"

"It was good." Our eyes meet before he looks back at the road. "Your mom is… she's really cool."

"She's the best."

"Yeah."

He's still being really quiet, and we drive for a while before he finally speaks up again. "I like your home… it's nice."

I can tell he means it, too.

My home is great. Cozy and welcoming and cluttered, but in the best kind of way, like all good homes should be.

"Yeah, it's cool," I agree. "We painted all the walls when we moved in. We have a strict no-white-walls-anywhere philosophy."

"Shocking."

"I know, right?"

We both laugh.

He doesn't say anything after that, though. I thought he'd be a lot more relaxed and happier now that the evening's over and it went so smoothly. He met my mom, survived dinner, and got along with Silas. He smiled—more than once. So why does it feel like something is still unraveling beneath his skin?

We should be celebrating. Laughing about my mom and her ridiculous romance novels. But instead, there’s this silence sitting between us, waiting to be named. So, I keep waiting for him to say more. Still, the silence stretches, thick and unspoken, like a secret he’s too afraid to share. And maybe I should let it go. Pretend I don’t notice the way his shoulders are still tense, the way he keeps swallowing like he’s trying to push something down. Because Xavier Rockwell, master of casual confidence, looks like he’s bracing for impact. And I have no idea when it's going to hit us.