Xavier’s eyes gleamed with amused knowledge, but he didn’t call me out. “Yes. The location will be tough to get, but Kai gave me some useful contacts.” He retrieved another paper from the table.
My heart skipped a beat when I saw the list.
There were only eight names, but they were the only eight that mattered for his purposes.
“This is…impressive,” I said, for lack of a better word. “Have you spoken to any of them yet?”
“Only the first one. We have a meeting scheduled in two weeks.”
The first and arguably most intimidating one. God. Every entrepreneur in the country would kill for a team like this. I knew Kai would pull through.
He’d been skeptical about Xavier, but I’d finally convinced him after pointing out what a great profile it would make for Mode de Vie’s annual Movers and Shakers issue.
“Also, thank you for talking to Kai for me.” Xavier’s face softened. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Just like that, a soft hum buzzed to life in my veins again. “You don’t have to thank me.” I deliberately avoided his eyes as I set the papers down on the table. “That was the easy part. Opening a club in six months in Manhattan? That’s the hard part.” “Don’t I know it,” he said with a rueful laugh. “But I have a plan, which is more than I had a week ago.”
“I’m glad.” My smile formed of its own accord. His father had forced his hand, but Xavier appeared genuinely excited about the project. Okay, maybe excited was pushing it, but he was committed.
“Anyway, I wanted to show you since this was your idea.” Xavier gestured at the remaining documents, which contained notes, scribbles, and ideas for the club. “If it weren’t for you…” His face softened further. “I don’t know where I’d be.”
The hum in my blood intensified.
I attempted a witty reply, but a strange haze permeated the air and robbed me of speech. It was different from the one earlier, when he’d been talking about the club. It was thicker, more potent, and I was suddenly, painfully aware of how empty the library had gotten.
Of how close Xavier stood.
Of how his body heat sank into my skin, urging me to step closer, just a little bit, so my chest pressed against his and I could discover for myself whether his hair felt as soft as it looked between my fingers.
It’s the alcohol. Never mind the fact I’d had my last drink two hours ago or that it’d become my default excuse. It was the only plausible explanation for why I was feeling these…things around Xavier Castillo, of all people.
“Sloane.” His quiet voice made my name sound like a caress. “Yes?” The breathlessness that escaped sounded nothing like me. It belonged to a stranger, the type who would succumb to dimples and broad shoulders and eyes the color of rich melting chocolate.
“You should leave.” A rough edge turned his words into a warning.