Page 29 of Alphas Like Us
God, I wantyou.
I express the carnal words in my eyes, and his chest elevates, seeing every lovingwantwritten onme.
“Damn,” he mutters, rain dripping down his temples and off hisjaw.
Damn.
I inhale strongly. Yeah, that’s aboutright.
It’s a good start to a doomsday. Because I’m not always that smooth, and something needs to go right before everything goes fuckingwrong.
We both slip into the rear doors at nearly the same time. Shutting out the rain. I brush water out of my soakedhair.
Winona rotates to me in the middle seat, her face delicate and feminine compared to her older sister’s strong squared jaw. Her hair, lightened to dishwater-blonde from the sun, falls on a man’s button-down that’s knotted at the waistband of her cargopants.
Her hazel-flecked eyes bore into me with so much emotion that it tries to knock mebackwards.
“Are you okay?” Iask.
“No, I’m notokay,” she says powerfully, her eyes glassing and chin threatening totremble.
“We’re going to help, alright?” I hug Nona, and she grips myshoulders.
I rub her back, and I flip a figurative switch. Trying not to feel the hurt that she feels. My eyes rise toFarrow.
He studies my stone face, and he mouths,I’m here foryou.
I nod. I know, but I’m not sure how to be everything they need without shutting off emotion. What Farrow called a survivalinstinct.
When my family breaks down, Ifortify.
“Nona, don’t cry,” Ben says in a whisper, turning around from the driver’s seat. “Because then I’ll start crying again and we’re not going to move past the waterworks stage of thiscrisis.”
You know Ben Pirrip Cobalt as the sixteen-year-old savvy environmentalist who makes friends easier than all of my family combined. He’ll even be your friend. He’s probably already followed you back on Twitter or Instagram, and he’s liked your pictures ten or twenty times. You think he’s one of the coolest Cobalt boys—with his accessibility, his windswept brown hair, baby blue eyes, and pretty boy charm—and you wouldn’t bewrong.
I know him as Ben, sometimesPippy, the youngest and most free-spirited Cobalt boy and my little cousin. A guy who wears his heart on his sleeve, who hurts over sad, broken things, and I know he wishes more people paid attention to important causes than the beauty mark on hischeek.
Fair Warning: I will hold you beneath a frozen lake and drown you if you fuck withhim.
“You smell foul,” Charlie says to his brother. Ben does stink like locker room B.O., but Winona has to be used to the stench. If it bothers Farrow, he doesn’t leton.
Ben scratches his hair. String-braided bracelets (made by Winona) fall down his wrist. “I’m doing a water-only wash period. I’m on weekfour.”
“It’s not working,” Charlie tells him and scoots his seat back onme—
“Charlie,” I growl, the seat crushing my knees. Nona sits back up and rubs her cheek with the heel of her palm. She opens a box of saltedcrackers.
Charlie is ignoring me. In case you were allwondering.
“Are you cool?” Ben is asking Farrow, and at the same time, Winona crosses her legs on the seat. Giving me room to shift mine in herspace.
“Thanks,” I tell mycousin.
She offers me a cracker, and I pass since they taste like salted tree bark. And she offers Farrow one, which heaccepts.
“I won’t nark if that’s what you’re asking,” Farrow says and pops the cracker in his mouth. He chews slowly, his face scrunching, and I almost startlaughing.
“Cool,” Bennods.
