Page 62 of Alphas Like Us
Oscar frowns. “Arestructure?”
Akara outstretches his arms. “Omega has gained some fame. We’re the only ones who get stopped for autographs, the only ones getting extraTinderdates, and if we start adding more bodyguards, there’s a chance they’ll gain notoriety by association. It’s not something the security teamwants.”
I understand now. There’s no plan to add extra bodyguards to SFO. Which is perfectly fine byme.
Akara continues, “All of us here—we are Omega. Even if you’re transferred to another client, even if you quit or get fired. We’re the bodyguards on SFO until furthernotice.”
Thatcher straightens off the door. “What about mybrother?”
Akara nods. “We’re still talking about adding Banks to Omega, and it’s likely that’s the way it’ll fall.” No one asks why.Banks and Thatcher areidenticaltwins, and he’s been recognized just as much as Thatcher on thestreet.
My phonebuzzes.
all of SFO + jack. Were gonna chill tonight up here–Maximoff
After seeing his cousins carry pillows and air mattresses upstairs, I figured he’d invite everyone to this little “sleepover”thing.
Your text needs an apostrophe and capital letters. And you sure you want Thatcher up there?I send, and rise off the table as a swarm of texts hit me. Everyone in the living room is watchingme.
“Boyfriend okay?” Oscarasks.
Maximoff texts me a middle finger emoji, along withthese:
Bring snacks–Maximoff
Chocolate chip cookies in the pantry–Maximoff
Drinks, another sleeping bag, pillows–Maximoff
These are definitely requests from hiscousins.
If you need help, I can come down–Maximoff
I instantly call him, phone to my ear. “Don’t you daremove.”
“Too late, I’m already doing cartwheels down the stairs.” His voice sounds tight withpain.
I rub my mouth. “You’re a terrible liar, wolf scout.” My eyes latch onto Akara, and I mouth,upstairs.He nods, and I tell my boyfriend, “We’ll be theresoon.”
* * *
Maximoff looks worsethan when I lefthim.
His pallid skin gleams with sweat, dark brown hair damp like he took a shower, and he breathes measured breaths through hisnose.
But he’s not shaking. Nochills.
Good.
I block out most of the background chatter as SFO and Jack settle into the attic room. Sleeping bags and pastel blankets cover air mattresses that line almost every inch of floor space. Bags of chips and bowls of popcorn are being passedaround.
I’m already sitting next to Maximoff on his bed, and while he sticks the thermometer in his mouth, I reach over his chest.Carefully.
And I switch on the portable fan. I sense him watching my inked hands, and our muscular legs unconsciouslyintertwine.
I grab a limeade Ziff sports drink. Leaving the other half of a bagel on the end table. He has to be too nauseous toeat.
With Maximoff, and even me, there’s a fine line between “coddling” and taking care of each other. I let him adjust his ice packs on his shoulder and chest, and when I unscrew the sports drink, I see thedon’t do that for mein hisfeatures.
