Page 165 of Alphas Like Us
As we’re winding down eating, Connor asks me what’s one thing that surprised me the most about losing my privacy. The three of them reminded me that they were in their early twenties when they became famous after a scandal, and they knew what privacy feltlike.
They weren’t born into fame likeMaximoff.
I toss my napkin on my plate and lean back on my chair, considering his question for a half second before the answer reachesme.
I look between the three men across from me. “I consider my sexuality the fifth or sixth most interesting thing about me. Being gay isn’t all of who I am, but it’s definitely a big part.” I take a beat. “And I’d have to come out all the time. Whenever a girl hit on me, whenever I introduced a boyfriend, I’d have to sayI’m gayover and overagain.”
It wasn’t uncommon for most people to assume I wasstraight.
That’schanged.
“Being in a public relationship with Maximoff, broadcasted to the entire world, means that I don’t need to come out nearly as much anymore.” I start to smile with a laugh. “And that still surprises me.” It still kicks me in thechest.
Maximoff shares my smile for a second, and he nods to me likeit’s a good feeling, huh?I prefer to live my truestself.
As terrifying as that can sound, there’s no freer feeling than being able to beme.
* * *
“Motherfuckers,”I swear behind the wheel of theAudi.
Paparazzi bang on the car windows so we’ll roll them down. The rapping fists on glass need to stop. We haven’t left the restaurant’s graveled parking lot yet. Maximoff’s dad and uncles inch ahead of us in a Land Cruiser, and security is behind us in anotherSUV.
Add on these other facts: lunch ran late, the sun has fallen, and each camera flash sears like a strobelight.
“MAXIMOFF!!FARROW!!!”
I slam on the horn. “MOVE!” I shout without rolling down thewindow.
Maximoff yells at paparazzi, “You’re going to get run over!!” He gestures them to get the fuck out, but they just crowd closer. Standing in front of the hood with heftycameras.
It all goes to hell when the Land Cruiser finds an exit and veers onto the street. All the paparazzi that’d been crowding their vehicle suddenly rushours.
“One of us should get out,” Maximoffsays.
I assess him in a quick sweep. He’s been death-gripping his leg, and I know he wants to be in control in this situation. But he has no license. “Hold on. I’ll be able to reach thestreet.”
It takes a long second, but the tires meet the curb before I’m blocked in again. Hoards of cameramen put their own safety at risk. They are standing on theroad.
Fuck.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Maximoff growls, squinting at the harsh glare. He yells at them through the windshield. “You’re going to killyourself!!”
Flashes burst directly through my passenger window, and my aviators aren’t shielding the light. “I’m rolling down my window,” I warnMaximoff.
As the window rolls, the noise level amplifies, and I scream, “Move! Get the fuck out! You’re not allowed to dothis!”
“FARROW!! MAXIMOFF!! Lookhere!!”
A cameraman puts the lens to the windshield and Maximoff almost loses it. He unsnaps hisseatbelt.
“Stop.” I extend my arm over his chest. “You’re not fighting thesebastards—”
Maximoff suddenly reaches across my body and shoves the fuck out of a camera that inched into the car. A camera that almost hit me in theface.
I roll up the window, my pulse thrashing because Maximoff is in serious pain. He stretched his right arm. Used strength on hisright arm.Right shoulder. “Maximoff,” I say tensely, lifting my aviators to myhead.
“I’m alright.” He shuts his eyes, breathing through his nose and leaning back against his seat. “I’m going topuke.”
