Chapter Seventy-Seven
Xavier
Several Days Later
The TV’s on. Something loud, something with intermittent laughter, something neither of us is paying attention to. It fills the space anyway.
Ruby sits at the kitchen table, laptop open, a notebook beside her. Highlighter cap between her teeth as she stares at the screen. Everything feels different now. Not the studying. The way it doesn't feel like she's pushing me out of her life anymore.
I shift on the couch, stretching my legs out. She mutters something under her breath. Then backspaces half a paragraph. I grin. “There she is.”
Her eyes flick up. “What?”
“You only threaten innocent electronics when you're annoyed.”
“I wasn't threatening it.”
“You were.”
She rolls her eyes and goes back to typing. The smile lingers anyway. “How’s it going?”
“Good. I’m writing about the skeletal system.”
“The what?”
“The skeletal system.”
“You’re writing a paper about bones?”
Her eyes narrow. “It’s more complicated than that.”
“Seems pretty straightforward.”
She sets the highlighter down. “No, it isn’t.”
I push off the couch and wander over. “Let me see.”
She turns the laptop toward me without hesitation. That still catches me off guard. A few weeks ago she would’ve closed the screen. Now she shares it.
Most of it looks like another language. There are diagrams. Labels. Words I don’t recognize. “You know what all this means?”
“Mostly.”
“That's concerning.”
A laugh slips out before she can stop it, causing my chest to tighten. She doesn’t laugh enough. “You're ridiculous.’
“Probably.” I point at the screen. “Why are there so many bones?”
She stares at me. “There’re supposed to be that many.”
“Seems excessive.”
Her laugh comes easier this time. Real. Unforced. The sound settles somewhere low in my chest. I lean against the counter beside her. Close enough to remain in her space, but not close enough to distract her. At least that's what I tell myself.
She turns back to the assignment. Keeps typing. And this time, instead of feeling shut out, I stay right where I am while she works.
Minutes later, Squirt clomps into the room, nails clicking, snout nudging at Ruby’s leg before turning his attention to me like I’m supposed to be more useful.
“Traitor,” I mutter, scratching behind his ears.
Ruby rolls her eyes. “You couldn’t be more right. Squirt is a traitor. He sleeps by your side of the bed. He nudges you whenever he wants something. He only came to me because he was tattling on you for not feeding him.”
This time, I laugh and shake my head. “Spoiled pig.”
Once Squirt is satisfied with his scraps, I glance back at the table. “You eat?”
She shakes her head. “Not yet.”
“I made something earlier when you were in class.”
Her brows lift. “You did?”
“It’s in the fridge.”
She stands without argument, brushing past me to grab a plate. Her shoulder bumps mine on the way by, and I force myself to remain still. She’s busy, and I respect the importance of her studies. But if I had my way, she’d be in my arms, and we’d count each other’s bones.
I lean back against the counter while she heats it, watching the way she moves through the kitchen like she’s not thinking about whether I’m here anymore. Like I just… am. And I like it more than I should.
She sets the plate down at the table, picking up her pencil between bites.
“You’re going to wear a hole in that paper.” I should leave her alone, but walking out of the room feels like an insurmountable task.
“You’re going to wear a hole in that counter if you keep leaning against it while staring at me.”
“I’m not staring.” The corner of my mouth tips upward despite my denial.
Her eyes dance as she arches her eyebrows, biting back laughter. “Yes, you are.”
Fine. I shake my head, push off the counter, and walk back to the couch. The TV keeps running. Squirt circles twice before dropping heavily onto the floor. Ruby flips another page.
I last maybe twenty minutes. “How much longer?”
“Until I’m done.”
“That wasn't a time.”
She rolls her eyes. “Very observant.”
Five more minutes. I check my phone. Change the channel. Check the clock. Ruby keeps writing. Screw this.
I cross the room and stop beside her.
She keeps her eyes on the page. “What?”
“I'm bored.”
“That sounds like a you problem.” She bites her bottom lip to keep from smiling, but I heard it in her voice.
“It is.” I take the pencil from her hand and set it on the table.
She glances up with what’s supposed to be an irritated expression, but there’s no heat behind it. At least, not that kind of heat. “Xavier.”
“Take a break.”
“I have homework.”
“You've had homework for three hours.”
“That's generally how college works.”
I lean down and kiss her. Her surprised laugh catches against my mouth before her hand curls into my shirt and pulls me back. That's all the encouragement I need.
My hand slides to her waist as the kiss deepens, her chair scraping back when she turns toward me. I step between her knees, and the textbook gets shoved farther across the table.
When we finally break apart, she's smiling. “You're a terrible influence.”
“You weren't getting anything done anyway.”
Her eyes narrow. “I was until someone spent twenty minutes staring at me.”
“Still wasn't staring.”
“Liar.”
I kiss her again before she can say anything else. Her homework can wait.