Page 78 of Shattered Throne
"I don't know." I set her down and walked to the door, checking the peephole.
Xavier.
He was standing in the hallway, two garment bags draped over his arm, looking far too pleased with himself.
I opened the door. "What are you doing here?"
"I knew it." He grinned, that infuriating, charming grin that made me want to smack him and kiss him in equal measure. "You didn't reply to my text, which means you weren't getting ready. So I took matters into my own hands." He held up the garment bags. "You're welcome."
"Xavier—"
"XAVIER!"
Zoe shot past me like a tiny missile, launching herself at his legs. He laughed and dropped the garment bags on the couch just in time to scoop her up.
"There's my favorite girl." He settled her on his hip like it was the most natural thing in the world. "What have you been up to?"
"I made my doll pretty! With Mommy's lipstick!"
"Did you? Very artistic. I approve."
"And then Mommy did the kiss monster!" Zoe's eyes went wide with sudden inspiration. "KISS MONSTER!"
She grabbed his face with both hands and attacked, pressing sloppy kisses all over his cheeks, his forehead, his chin. Xavier pretended to struggle, making exaggerated sounds of distress.
"Help! I'm being attacked! Kim, save me!"
I watched them from the doorway. My daughter in his arms, smearing lipstick-sticky kisses across his face, both of them laughing. Xavier's designer shirt was getting wrinkled where Zoe was gripping it. His hair mussed where her fingers had tangled in it.
He looked happy. Genuinely happy. Not performing, not charming his way through a social obligation. Just... happy to be here. Happy to be with her.
Something warm and terrifying bloomed in my chest. I didn't have a name for it. Didn't want one.
"Alright, alright." Xavier managed to escape Zoe's assault, setting her down gently. "As much as I'm enjoying this, your mom needs to get ready." He turned to me, eyes bright with mischief. "Go. Shower. Change. I'll keep the kiss monster entertained."
"I didn't agree to go."
"And yet." He gestured at the garment bags. "Dresses have been acquired. Childcare has arrived. Excuses have been eliminated." He made a shooing motion. "Go. We leave in an hour."
I wanted to argue. I wanted to tell him he couldn't just show up at my apartment and make decisions for me, that I wasn't some damsel who needed rescuing, that I was perfectly capable of managing my own life.
But Zoe was already tugging Xavier toward the couch, chattering about her dolls, and he was following willingly, and the warm, terrifying thing in my chest was growing.
I went to shower.
The dress was perfect.
Deep blue, fitted but not tight, falling just below my knees. Simple. Elegant. The kind of dress I would have picked for myself if I could afford it, which meant he'd been paying attention. Noticing what I wore, what I gravitated toward, what made me feel comfortable.
I didn't know what to do with that.
I emerged from the bedroom to find Xavier on the floor with Zoe, apparently in the middle of an elaborate tea party. He was holding a tiny plastic cup with his pinky extended, nodding seriously as Zoe explained the proper way to serve imaginary cookies.
He looked up when I walked in.
His eyes widened.
I watched his gaze travel from my face to my shoulders to the curve of the dress at my waist, then back up again. Slowly. Deliberately. His pupils were dark, dilated, and there was something in his expression that made heat creep up my neck.
