Page 187 of Show Me

My stomach rolls again. Stress. Warmth from the heater. The lingering garbage smell. Or heartbreak catching up to me. I don’t know. I only know that I feel exhausted all the way through. Emotionally scraped raw.

And for the first time since this started, I stop trying to convince myself I can handle it because everyone’s been right. Xavier doesn’t care about me, at least, not in a way that doesn’t leave him standing on the other side of the line.

And I don’t think I can survive living there anymore.

Chapter Ninety-Eight

Xavier

The second Ruby’s car disappears down the street, everything feels wrong. I just let her slip through my fingers because I reacted half a second too late to stop it.

I’m holding the folder she handed me—Dad’s paperwork. But I’m not paying any attention to it. I’m looking at Lindsey. And every part of the last ten minutes clicks into place. The questions. The timing. The way she kept glancing over my shoulder.

My jaw tightens hard enough to ache. “You knew she was there.”

Lindsey shrugs lightly. “I noticed.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Oh, relax, Xavier.”

My patience snaps. “You set that up.”

She crosses her arms and smirks. “I didn’t make you say anything. You did that all on your own.”

“That’s not the point.”

“No?” she asks calmly. “Because it sounded pretty honest to me.”

Fucking bitch. I rake a hand through my hair, frustration boiling fast beneath my skin. “You baited the conversation.”

One shoulder raises again as she bites her bottom lip, slowly letting it go. “I asked questions.”

“You knew exactly where to push.”

Her expression barely changes. But there’s satisfaction underneath it now. Subtle. Controlled. “You’re angry at the wrong person.”

“That supposed to mean something?”

“It means Ruby didn’t look surprised.” Lindsey tilts her head. “She looked hurt.”

The words land harder than they should because she’s right. Ruby hadn’t looked shocked. She looked… tired, like something inside her gave out.

I look down at the folder in my hand. Then hear my own voice replay in my head. She’s a friend. She knows where I stand. You knew I didn’t want anything serious.

Jesus Christ. None of it was technically a lie. That’s the problem. I’ve been saying the same things for years. The same rules. The same boundaries. The same careful distance.

Except somewhere between Ruby arguing with me about which insulation she should purchase and falling asleep with her wrapped around me, those words stopped fitting.

Deep down, I’ve always known it, but I kept saying them because they were easier than admitting this had become something else entirely. And I don’t know what to do with that.

What happens when life happens, and I’m not the fun guy who banters and teases? When she looks at me like I’m not worth the effort? What happens when she leaves me?

Lindsey watches me too closely. “That hit a nerve.”

I look up sharply. “Leave Ruby out of your bullshit.”

Her brows lift. “Your bullshit, Xavier. Not mine.”