Page 51 of Lovers Like Us
“Partly.” He uses his left hand to drive. “I wasn’t just the guy that took his brother’s job. I was the son of the family’s doctor, a guy who had little security experience, who hated rules, and who was now the bodyguard to Lily Calloway. In Thatcher’s eyes, I was given the position without earning it.” Farrow chews his gum with a smile. “Little did he know, I’m the best at everything Ido.”
My brows scrunch. “It’s like one minute you make sense and the next, it’sKlingon.”
Farrow stares at me for as long as he can, then fixes on the road. “Not ashamed to say that I don’t know what the fuck thatmeans.”
“Let this go on every record that ever exists: I know something that youdon’t.”
Farrow glances back. “Enjoy this while it lasts because it won’t lastlong.”
“I always last longer than you,” Iretort.
Farrow whistles. “The last time I made you come must’ve really fucked with yourmemory.”
“Did you make me come?” I feign confusion and shift in my seat. “I’m not sure youdid.”
He smiles out at the road. “Don’t worry, I’ll remind you what it feltlike.”
Fucking Christ.My brain, my body—all the Team Farrow pieces of mecraveand beg to cash in on that rightnow.
Then my phone buzzes in my back pocket. It’s late for most of my family to be texting. As I unpocket my phone, I think about how Farrow has already proven himself to the security team by keeping my momsafe.
Alpha may complain about him, but I’ve seen the Tri-Force radio Farrow in high-stress situations. Like during the Hallow Friends Eve incident, Akara turned to himfirst.When push-comes-to-shove, the entire security team trusts and relies on Farrow. Knowing he’ll be there and he’ll beready.
If this weren’t true, he would’ve been fired a while ago. And Thatcher would’ve never voted to keep himaround.
I ask Farrow, “Thatcher knows you’re good at what you do, so why does he still hateyou?”
“Because I haven’t proven myself to his standards.” Farrow rotates the wheel, taking a sharp exit onto aramp.
Maybe it has to do with Thatcher’s upbringing. “His dad was a Navy SEAL,right?”
Farrow frowns. “How do you knowthat?”
“Xander mentioned it once.” I click into my recenttexts.
I AM SUCH A LOSER!!!–Tom
I straighten up because that doesn’tsound like Tom Cobalt. Before I even reply, another text popsup.
I’m gonna go die now–Tom
Farrow eagle-eyes me while I ditch texting and just call my seventeen-year-old cousin. I put my cell to my ear and unplug Farrow’s phone from the USB. “Call Tom’s bodyguard. Something’s notright.”
11
FARROW KEENE
Ikeepan eye on the darkened road and use one hand to speak in my phone. “Call IanWreath.”
I’m out of radio-range from Epsilon and Alpha while we drive away from Philly and NYC. And I haven’t kept track of the families in the team’s dailylogs.
I prop my phone to my ear with my shoulder. Streets begin to narrow now that I’m off thehighway.
We’re a little less than five minutes from the hotel to sleep overnight. Which is about a mile from where the convention is taking place. Maximoff didn’t book rooms in the same hotel as the Cleveland meet-and-greet. Because that’d be a securitynightmare.
“Tom?” Maximoff lowers the phone, his gaze hardened. “He hung up onme.”
My line clicks. “Ian?” I pressspeakerphoneso Maximoff can hear. “You out somewhere with Tom?” Drums bang loudly in thebackground.
