“What about you?” I asked as he tested out the guitar with a few soft strums. “What made you want to play?”
“Let’s see: I’ve worn glasses since the age of four, I was raised onStar TrekandDoctor Who, my sport of choice is archery, and I’m the opposite of athletic,” he explained, reclaiming his spot on the sofa. “Basically, I’m the definition of a geek. I wanted to learn because it’s cool, and as I’ve so amply demonstrated, I need major help in that department.” Xander said this all verymatter-of-factly, as if he couldn’t care less, but his clenched jaw said otherwise.
He returned his attention to the instrument in his hands. I watched as he picked his way through an unfamiliar riff with ease, and as his skilled fingers danced over the strings, I couldn’t argue with his logic. Maybe he’d gone through an awkward stage in his early teenage years, but there was nothing geeky about Xander now.
What was it about a guy playing guitar that was so sexy?
Forcing myself to look away, I cleared my throat. “I’m pretty sure being in a world-famous band makes you certified next-level cool.”
“You think so?” The amused tone of his voice made me think there was a smirk on his face.
I peeked over at him. Yup, definitely smirking.
Not wanting him to see the color in my cheeks, I glanced down at my hands. “Definitely.”
Xander gave a satisfied hum in response, and whatever song he was playing transitioned into something new, another tune I didn’t recognize. As I waited for my blush to fade, I listened to the gentle melody and tried to work out the best way to ask him about why we’d ditched the premiere.
“So, ah…are you okay?” Not exactly the subtle lead-in I’d been searching for, but if I let this go, I had a hunch Xander wouldn’t give me any sort of explanation.
He flinched but quickly recovered with a car salesman smile. “Why wouldn’t I be?” He sounded too cheery, and I could tell from the way his smile tightened that he realized this as well.
This again, really?
“Because,” I said, eyeing him skeptically, “you hightailed it out of the theater like the building was on fire. What happened?”
A range of emotions flickered through his eyes, but they passed too quickly for me to make heads or tails of what he was feeling. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
“You know you’re a terrible liar, right?”
Xander sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I know. I never got away with anything as a kid. My mom could spot a lie from a mile away. I thought it was some kind of parental superpower until JJ admitted I have the world’s worst poker face. Of course, that was after he spent our childhood cleaning me out at Texas Hold’em.”
“Listen, if you want me to drop the subject, I will. Just say the word,” I replied. “With that being said, something is clearly on your mind, and in my experience, I always feel better after getting whatever is bothering me off my chest.”
“It’s stupid.”
“Not to me it isn’t.”
Another heavy sigh. “There were a bunch of entertainment correspondents on the red carpet—E! News,Access Hollywood,Extra, a few others. They wanted to know about our experience working onImmortal Nights, our upcoming tour, that sort of thing,” he said, and I had a sinking feeling about where this was going. “But when I sayour, I don’t mean the four of us.” He left his explanation at that, but it was enough for me to understand.
A hard knot formed in the pit of my stomach. “I know we’re not in the same situation, but I understand what it feels like to beovershadowed by someone. It’s like, no matter what you do, you’ll never compare.” I could discover a cure for cancer or become the first female president of the United States, but regardless of what I did, Violet would always be the sun in my father’s universe, while I was merely a distant star, millions of light-years away.
Xander’s laugh was humorless. “Have I really been that transparent?”
No, he hadn’t, but I was too embarrassed to admit the truth: I noticed what his friends didn’t because the more time we spent together, the more aware of Xander I became. Like the way one side of his mouth raised a fraction higher than the other when he smiled, how he fiddled with his glasses when he was nervous, or the almost red gleam in his hair when he stood under direct light.
“I hate sounding ungrateful,” he said, hanging his head.
“For what?”
“Everything. My career, our success. I’ve been blessed with so much, but lately all I can think about is how I’m the guy at the back of the band nobody cares about.”
“What?” I exclaimed. “Xander, how can you say that!”
“Because the others…they have such big personalities,” he said. “Take Oliver, for example. He’s effortlessly charming, not to mention he writes all our music. JJ is the fearless, over-the-top comedian who knows exactly how to get a crowd going. And Alec has the whole mysterious, brooding thing going for him as well as an entire freaking record label. Compared to them, I’m the boring, forgettable fringe member. They don’t need me.”
The dejection in his voice took hold of my heartstrings andgave them a painful tug. Could he really not see how amazing he was? Yes, his bandmates had distinct personalities, but that was exactly what made the Heartbreakers so successful—all four guys were different and unique in their own way. Xander was cheerful and friendly, the type of person who could put anyone at ease. He made you forget his fame, and suddenly you felt like you were catching up with an old friend, not chatting with a chart-topping artist. And then there was his caring nature. The amount of kindness he’d shown me in the short time we’d known each other was unparalleled, from introducing me to Melody to helping with my portfolio.
Was he as smooth as Oliver? No.
