Page 205 of Alphas Like Us
Everyonelaughs.
Donnelly blows me a middle-finger kiss. And I won’t tell anyone but Maximoff, at least not to the full degree—but I missed these guys. Shit, like Ireallymissed them. In ways that I didn’t think I would or evencould.
I glance at Donnelly who dog-ears the magazine. “We should make a drinking game out of the docuseries,” he says, his Philly lilt thick. “Every time you roll your eyes, we take ashot.”
Akara shakes his head, a water bottle to his lips. “Too manyshots.”
“How about you all just not watch the show,” I saycasually.
Donnelly laughs like that’s an absurdidea.
Thatcher says, “That was theplan.”
“See, listen to Thatcher,” I tell everyone and bite into my redapple.
He sends me a narrowed look. Not understanding why I’m agreeing with him. Let’s make this clear: he agreed with mefirst.
I watch his gaze drift to the camera set-up. Right now, a photographer takes various shots of Maximoff and Jane together. She rests her freckled cheek on his shoulder, and he has a protective arm around herwaist.
Their relationship intact means a ton to me. And the fact that I didn’t destroy thatgoodthing and I still got the man, the love, and everything in between—there are no words for what I feel. Because “happy” doesn’t seem powerfulenough.
Donnelly hunches forward on the stool and clears his throat. Reading from the magazine he’s holding, “‘With a wedding on the horizon, you can expect interest in Maximoff & Farrow’s relationship to escalate in the comingmonths.’”
I hone in on how they called meFarrowand not just Maximoff’s fiancé or Maximoff’s boyfriend. And the Alphas Like Us articles stopped referring to me as the “new boyfriend,” and they’ve started printing my nametoo.
Either this means that the world sees me as a human being or as someone worthy enough to be attached to Maximoff by name. Possiblyboth.
And I’ll definitely takeboth.
Donnelly rotates the tabloid sideways and reads on, “‘They’re the currentit-coupleand it’s going to take somethin’ huge to change that.’” He looks at me with seriousness. “Want me to do somethin’huge?”
“No, fuckno.”
SFO may have a modicum of fame, but the spotlight on me is much brighter and blinding. Being with Maximoff, I’ve learned to not let that shit get tome.
Don’t fear it. Don’t run away from it. Don’t fight it. Instead I hang onto the bright side and just live every day withhim.
Standing beside Donnelly, Quinn peers at the tabloid and points at a page. “Damn. Jane’s on the worst dressed listagain.”
Thatcher pulls the magazine out of Donnelly’ grip and tosses it in the nearby trash. “No one should be reading that here.” He retrains his attention onto the photoshoot.
Donnelly mouths to me,grumpy.
That’s one word for it. I bite into myapple.
Oscar eats a fry and nods to me. “Fiancé is looking atyou.”
Fiancé.That word rushes into me. I’ve always wanted to be married one day, and each morning I wake up next to him, I’m still overcome with a simple fact. I’m going to marry Maximoff Hale—the love of mylife.
I chew slowly, my lips upturning. “I know,” I say. “He still does that.” Gradually, I turn around and pool all my attention ontoMaximoff.
He’s alone. Standing in front of the white backdrop, dressed in jeans and a gray crew-neck. He’s waiting for the photographer to fix his camera settings, maybe even for a few other cousins to appear. I’m not sure who’s up next in the photolineup.
And despite all the hell we’ve been through, Maximoff looks and stands like an unshakable force of nature. Ready to weather any squall because he’s as powerful as thestorm.
Fuck, I can’t take my eyes off him, and I smile into my next bite of apple. Watching his forest-greens try not to melt overme.
The photographer shouts, “Can we get Loren and Ryke inhere?”
