Chapter 279

Chapter 279
The second I push the apartment door open, something sharp hits me. Smoke.... too much of it. And underneath it, faint and rough, is the sound of Xander coughing. My whole body goes tight.
I step inside fast. “Xander?”
No answer, just another cough and the fire alarm shrieking like it’s having a nervous breakdown. I follow the noise straight to the kitchen. He’s in the middle of the room, waving a dish towel around like he’s trying to chase away a demon. The place is hazy, the alarm’s losing its mind, and the stove has a pan on it smoking like a dying engine.
I’m at his side in a heartbeat. I drop the book on the counter and grab the pan, move it to the sink and turn the tap on full blast. Steam roars up.
“What were you doing?” I ask. Concern filling my tone. He coughs again, drops the towel onto the counter. “I thought I’d finish making what we started earlier,” he says, sounding almost offended by the chaos around him. “The recipe said to add wine. I added the damn wine. And then....” He gestures at the stove with both hands. “....this huge flame just came at me out of nowhere.”
I glance around. The kitchen looks like a raccoon broke in and started experimenting. Vegetable scraps on the floor. A wine bottle half open, half spilled. Flour dusting the counter in places that don’t even make sense.
I let out a slow breath.
Xander walks to the window, pushes it open and breathes in the cold air. The alarm finally quits. He turns back around, leans against the counter, arms crossed. His eyes stay on me, searching.
“So,” he says quietly, “....where were you?”
The question is more curious than anything. He studies my face for another second. Then, softer, “Did you need some air? You must've been overwhelmed earlier.”
I shake my head, clear my throat.
“No. I was actually with Adam.”
His brows lift, slow and surprised. “Really?”
I nod.
“He came by again?”
“No,” I say. “Not this time.”
He nods slowly, then huffs out a soft laugh, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks around the disaster zone that used to be our kitchen. “Well, things got a little crazy.”
“A little?” I echo, giving him a look.
He scoffs under his breath, then walks over to the book I’d set on the counter. He picks it up carefully, like it might tell him something I haven’t yet. He flips through a few pages, and two ramen seasoning packets fall out, fluttering to the floor like sad little confetti.
He stops, looks down at them. And then slowly, he bends, one hand pressed to his chest to brace himself. My body reacts before I can stop it, instinct pulling me one step closer, but I force myself still. He straightens with the empty packets in his hand, brows pulling together. He turns the book over, skims the back cover. Then those eyes lift to mine.
“Did Adam give you this? Does he know you don’t read?”
His voice is soft, it hits something inside me. My gaze flickers over his face slowly, the way you look at someone who sees too much. He tilts his head a little, like he’s letting me know he feels me folding in on myself but he’s giving me the space to unfold on my own. Patient in that way that terrifies me because it’s so gentle.
“It’s not from Adam,” I say. My voice feels thin. “It, um.... it was Andrew’s.”
Something shifts in his expression, subtle but there. His eyes narrow slightly as he looks back down at the book. I slowly step forward then and take it from his hands, setting it back on the counter like it’s something breakable.
“Xander,” I say, turning back to him. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
I reach for his hands before I even realize I’m doing it. My fingers curl around his, warm and tense, and I step in closer. Close enough to see the flicker in his eyes, like he’s not sure if he should brace for something or not.
“What’s wrong?” he asks softly. “You’re kind of scaring me.”
I shake my head immediately. “No. No, it’s nothing like that.” My voice feels rougher than I expect. “It’s actually good news.”
He searches my face, trying to see past whatever’s twisting me up. “Okay....but if it’s good, why do you look so...” He exhales, eyes narrowing slightly as he tries to find the word. “Anxious?”
A low breath slips out of me, almost a laugh but not really. “I don’t know. Maybe because I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”
He goes quiet then, giving me space without letting go of me.
“Last time Adam came by,” I say, brushing my thumb over the back of his hand to steady myself, “....he suggested something. He wanted us to start a restaurant together. He said he’d invest. Told me to think about it.”
Xander’s lips part, but nothing comes out. His expression says everything.....shock, disbelief, a flicker of something else.
“I was.... indecisive,” I continue, voice dipping. The hesitation tastes metallic, heavy. His voice drops to almost a whisper. “Why?”
I shrug, but it’s a small, defeated thing. “It just felt like too much. Terrifying in a way I can’t even explain.” Then I add, “And when Dorian came by earlier, he left me a key. To a storage space where he kept a few things from the restaurant, and Andrew’s stuff.”
His grip tightens instantly around my hands. “I decided to go check the place out.” I take a breath I don’t quite manage to control. “So I called Adam to come with me.”
My heart knocks hard before I say add, “And I accepted his offer. For the restaurant.”
He blinks at me like the words don’t arrange themselves fast enough in his head. His brows pull together, and he lets go of one of my hands so he can drag his fingers through his hair. A slow exhale leaves him.
“Okay... just give me a second.” His palm rests briefly on the back of his neck. “Let me get this straight.” He looks at me again, eyes darting over my face like he’s checking for signs he misheard.
“So you’re.... starting a restaurant with Adam?”
I nod once. “Yeah. I guess so.”
“And he suggested this last time he was here?” he asks, voice flatter this time. Like he's trying to understand something that doesn’t make sense to him yet.
“Yeah,” I say quietly.
“Oh.”
It’s such a small sound, but it lands heavier than it should. He stares at a point just past my shoulder before his gaze comes back to me. There’s no anger in it, just this quiet confusion.
Then....“Why didn’t you tell me?”