Page 25 of Alphas Like Us
“Who’s up next?! Beckett orCharlie?!”
She shrugs and forces a smile as ananswer.
Great.
I descend the few stairs. Guests mingle in the aisles and around the stage. Bruno grants me about fifteen feet of space, enough that I forget he’s evenhere.
I’m closer to the right aisle, and that’s when I seehim.
Farrow slips through the chatty masses with a determined stride. His shoulder bumps into a woman, and champagne almost spills on her emerald necklace—wait, why is Charlie behindhim?
I move faster, squeezing past guests as Farrow weaves between other bodies. Both of us in pursuit of theother.
“Maximoff,” a few people call for me. Wanting totalk.
I don’tstop.
Not until no one and nothing barricades Farrow from me and me from Farrow. His arm instantly curves around my shoulders, and with his other tattooed hand, he holds my jaw, his lips against my ear as he whispers quickly, “Charlie knows who won the two-million dollar bid onyou.”
My heartbeat pounds against Farrow’s hardchest.
Two-milliondollars.
I nod stiffly. I had no idea I was won fortwo-million. I must’ve tuned out that part, and I can’t conjure the kind of person who’d spend that life-changing amount onme.
We both turn towards my cousin who nears. Charlie plucks a champagne flute off a server’s tray and downs the drink in two gulps. He sets the glass on an armrest of an emptyseat.
Not giving afuck.
Typical. But his indifference doesn’t grate on me right now. Because I’m majorlyconfused.
“Who won me?” I ask Charlie, and I keep my arm around Farrow’s waist while his arm hangs over myshoulder.
Charlie steps closer so we’re in a huddle, no one overhearing, and he loosens his already loose bowtie. “AceSteel.”
My brows knit. “Who?” I look toFarrow.
He stares hard at Charlie. “Never heard ofhim.”
Charlie runs his hand through his hair and pulls at the strands. Not anxiously. He does it when he’s bored, too, and it always makes his hair stick up in odd places—and Jesus, I don’t know why I’m fixating onthis.
Yeah I do. Because I’ve been sold for two-million dollars.Because Ernest has invaded my wheelhouse, steering my ship towards someone with maybe-possibly-fucked-upintentions.
Charlie takes a pair of black sunglasses out of his pocket. Prolonging the answer, and he slips them on. It’s nighttime. We’re indoors. Cameras aren’t even flashing at us. There’s no sense in most of what he does, and sometimes I think that’s why he doesit.
I let out an agitated breath. “Charlie—”
“Ace Steel is a pornstar.”
What.
The.
Fuck.
My brows scrunch more. “You’re fucking with us,” Istate.
Charlie shakes his head once. “Not this time. And I know what pornography companies do to our families, so I warned your boyfriend. He failed at winning you, and that’s not onme.”
