A group of people rush inside the shop, relieved to be out of the cold, and I don’t miss the way the guy at the back of the group turns his head to look at Xavi, chewing his lip as he takes in his form. “Does that happen everywhere he goes?” Frankie asks, subtly tipping her chin at Xavi. “Girls and guys?” I nod, my hands clenching into fists on the table. “He has no idea, does he?” “Not a fucking clue.”
