Page 30 of Rear View
He shifted his weight left to right, and back again. “I hoped we could hang out.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Where’s Chloe?”
He shrugged and looked away, dragging a hand through his hair.
Was that an “I don’t know”? Or an “I don’t care”? Christian wasn’t the cheating kind, so I could only assume their on-again, off-again thing was off. Again.
I bit my lip and shook my head. I couldn’t cancel on Xavier. Nor did I want to. I took a step back. “I’m really sorry, Christian. I’ve gotta finish getting ready.”
He shot his hand out, holding the door. “You don’t know this guy, R.J.” He leaned in, narrowing the gap between us. “He could be trouble.”
I swallowed hard, my pulse pounding inside my ears.
Zoya’s scowling face darted out of her door, a blatantwhat an absolute assexpression painting her face.
Christian rubbed his chin hard. “I should probably tag along.”
Worrying the inside of my cheek, I told him, “I don’t have enough tickets.” Sure, I could text Xavier and ask for more, but it just felt—
“It’s cool. I’ll cover my own.”
Pressure built along my ribs. I pulled that drawstring so taut, my finger turned purple. I wanted to tell him it was fine, thatIwas fine, but my tongue froze right alongside my brain, which meant that nothing came out.
His gaze dropped, glancing down at himself. “When are you leaving?”
Say something, Ryah. Say something!
I twisted my wrist and tugged up my sleeve to check the time, hating myself for my cowardice. “In, um…in an hour. I told him we’d be there around two.”
The grin he offered was sheer triumph. “I’ve just gotta run home for a minute. I’ll be back in a few.”
“Yeah.” I fought not to smack myself in the face. “Sure.”
His smile was bright when he left. I closed the door with a soft click, then turned the dead bolt and slid the chain lock back into place. Should—should I have done that?
Zoya stomped out of her room, fully dressed, with her damp dark hair spilling down her shoulders. “I can’t believe you just did that.”
Guess I had my answer. “He invited himself.” I threw my hands up. “What was I supposed to say?”
“No. You were supposed to say no.” She shook her head. “When Xavier said ‘take whoever you want,’ I doubt yourexwas who he had in mind.”
My teeth ground. “It’s not a date, Z.”
“No, and it never will be if your baggage keeps showing up.”
I scoffed. “My baggage?”
She dropped her hands onto her hips while the ever-deepening frown she offered me screamed,“Girl, please.”
Fine. Maybe Christian was my baggage. For some reason I was still yet to suss out, Xavier didn’t scare me, but Christian, he was familiar. Going to the car show was a step outside my norm. Having him there couldn’t hurt.
God, I hoped.
Chapter Eight
Xavier
I tugged the zipper up the chest of my driving suit. The thing was light, custom fit and made of Nomex, a fire-retardant material to keep us from burnin’ up when we raced—or crashed. The team’s name and logo stretched across my back, and it looked damn good, its crisp black a standout.
