“Nothing,” I said quickly, shoving the phone back in my pocket. “Just work stuff.”
June’s eyes narrowed. “You’re supposed to be somewhere right now, aren’t you?”
“It’s fine,” I insisted, even as my phone buzzed again. I silenced it without looking. “Not important.”
“Xavier.” She said my name like she was solving an equation. “I’ve never asked what you and Milo do for work.”
“Well, I’ve never asked your last name, so I guess we’re even. I didn’t realize it until I couldn’t figure out what to call your mom.”
She smiled. “Ashbury. June Ashbury.”
“Why don’t we ask questions?”
“I don’t know about you, but once I get started, it’s a little hard to stop,” June said. “And I don’t want to risk upsetting the delicate balance.”
“Well, maybe we should take that risk. Just so I don’t call your mom Mrs. Ma’am.”
She burst out laughing. “Okay. So, Xavier, what do you do for work?”
I bit my bottom lip, realizing that there was a reason I’d never told her. Never wanted her to know that while she was designing revolutionary motorcycles, I was flipping eggs and scraping grease traps.
June giggled, then sat up straighter, a formal expression crossing her face that was so absurdly professional given that she was naked in bed. “Perhaps we should do a formal introduction. June Marie Ashbury,” she announced, extending her hand like we were at a business meeting. “Senior Electrical Engineer at Heleonix, specializing in motor control systems and power delivery optimization.”
I took her hand, shaking it solemnly even as warmth spread through my chest at her ridiculousness. “Xavier Michael Cross. Soon-to-be-fired line cook at The Rusted Spur, specializing in overcooking hash browns and pissing off management.”
June’s face went through several expressions—surprise, then confusion. “A line cook? Really?”
“Pays the bills.”
“I didn’t mean that to sound judgy, it just seems a waste of your intelligence.”
I laughed. “Oh, is that why I fucking hate it?”
She shook her head, squeezing my hand. “Well, I have faith that you’ll find something else. Something better.”
“Not likely. I barely graduated high school.”
“So? You have a lot of good qualities. You’re brilliant with motorcycles, you are well-spoken, you love to read.” Her green eyes were fierce behind her glasses. “I believe you can do anything.”
The words hit me harder than they should have. Perhaps because I couldn’t remember a single person in my life ever saying anything like that to me before.
Chapter 12
Milo
“Dude, what the hellis your problem today?” I asked, sitting at our little table and opening my laptop.
Xavier glared at me, eyes cold enough to freeze gasoline. “Nothing.”
“Bullshit. You’ve been stomping around like someone pissed in your cereal.”
I tried again. “Do you want to film something for our channel?” “Drop it,” he snapped. “I’m not in the mood for your golden retriever optimism.” I bit back my response, frustration simmering under my skin because he didn’t know about our recent explosive growth. We had over 100k followers on several platforms, and the revenue was growing enough to help with bills, especially with the modest deal I’d signed with HoneybeeBooks. Xavier had always been moody, and he’d been swinging between moments of surprising tenderness with June and the dark, bitter cynicism that pushed everyone away.
The rumble of an approaching car made us both look up. We rarely got visitors at the barndominium. Through the dirty windows, I glimpsed a sleek blue electric SUV—June’s Subaru.
“What the fuck is she doing here?” Xavier muttered, but I caught the way his shoulders straightened, the way he quickly smoothed his hair.
The knock came a moment later—hesitant, three gentle raps. I opened the door to find June standing there, looking pretty and put-together in a neat blouse and slacks, her hair twisted up with a pen stuck through it.
