Page 177 of Lovers Like Us
Maximoff growls out, but he blinks repeatedly to glare. And I’ll be honest. He’s not glaring. He’s not even scowling. He’s smiling, and I’m entrapped, unable to detach—do your motherfucking job,Farrow.
I abruptly break eye contact and survey the diner again. As soon as I look at the window, a few girls squeal, “Oh my God, it’sFarrow!”
“Is Quinn with him?!” anothershrieks.
“I willdieif Quinn is inthere!”
“Maybe he has Quinn’snumber?!”
Of course Ido.
I keep scrutinizing the diner, the people, but I talk to Maximoff. “I wouldn’t have even bet ten bucks on Quinn being the most famous bodyguard.” But ithappened.
Girls are obsessed withhim.
“Where do you think you rank?” Maximoffasks.
I meet his serious gaze. “I’m the least famous,” I say honestly. “Because I’m taken, remember?” He declared my relationship status to a FanCon panel, which reached the internet and the world. In result, Tumblr and Twitter lost interest in me. Not that Icare.
I’m still the best damned bodyguard in the wholeteam.
Maximoff rubs his tensed shoulder. “Being theleast famousbodyguard is like coming in first place. So youwon.”
I stare harder at him. “Okay…but I wouldn’t mind being the most famous out ofOmega.”
Maximoff quiets, thinking, and staring off intospace.
My pulse starts racing. I can’t readhim.
We haven’t talked about going public with our relationship. Something that’d spike my level of fame. But it’s a real, feasible option now. Especially since Omega lasted the tour without a major mistake. We proved we’re too experienced to let notoriety ruin ourcareers.
And I need to know where Maximoff’s head is at. “Maximoff—”
“It’ll be worse than this. By ten billion times, and it’ll bother you,” he refutes, straightening up. “All the screaming in your ear, the articles on shit you wouldn’t even expect, and the never-ending personalquestions.”
He’s convinced himself that no one in their right mind would be fine with the invasiveness, but I’ve been around him and his family enough to understand what the hell I’d be sacrificing and signing upfor.
I rest my arm on the table, my fingers close to his elbow. Can’t touch him in public. Can’t comfort him. Can’t love him loudly orproudly.
“That shit won’t bother me,” I say, “and if it does, the tradeoff is worthit.”
Maximoff knows the tradeoff ishim.“I’m not worthit.”
“Yeah you are.” My eyes burn. I wake up every morning, and I’m more in love with him than the daybefore.
And I think,can I do this for another year, two years, three?The answer isn’t justyes.I can picture us together for longer, stronger, and I’ve never seen that far ahead. Yet, I’m now in a position I’ve never been inbefore.
I’m sitting on the other side. Wondering what his answer is to the same question. Can he see us another year, two years, three? Longer, stronger? I’m a guy with almost no fears, but there is one change I’m terrified toface.
I’m terrified of losinghim.
I just sit here and wait, my pulse drumming in my ears. I remember this is his first relationship, and I’m actually afraid to scare him off. I want to go public, but I can’t pressure him. He just needs to know where Istand.
I’m doing thatnow.
The rest is up tohim.
Maximoff swishes his hot tea, thinking. “I can’t do this to you,Farrow.”
