Page 87 of Alphas Like Us
My actions will affect Maximoff. More than anyone. Even considering what I’m considering eviscerates me. Hacks up my organs and slices me in fuckingtwo.
You selfishbastard.
I lovehim.
Fuck, I love him more than is comprehensible, more than anyone can possibly see, and I’ve always run towards what callsme.
Maximoff.He calls out to me every second of every minute of every day, and to willingly turn my back and race away from him is unfathomable. Because it’d tear me apart. I’d sooner drop to my knees and scream, and then I’d dig my way back into hisarms.
If losing him is a consequence of what I choose to do next, I physically can’t do it. It’d hurt less to ignore this pull than to losehim.
My eyes burn. “I need to know what you think.” I tighten my hand in his. “I’m not sure what to doyet.”
I expected this conversation to surprise Maximoff. But he doesn’t lookshocked.
He rests the back of his head on the rock wall, his eyes swimming through my eyes. “Choose the path where you’re not fighting yourself, don’t be afraid of change, don’t live for less than what you love—those are your words, Farrow. To me, it’s obvious what you need todo.”
I rub my jawline. “It’snot.”
“You lovemedicine—”
“I love you,” I tell Maximoff. “You are who I love, who I live for, and if I finish my residency to be a concierge doctor, it means quitting security. It means working in a hospital forthree yearsbefore I can even be your family’s physician.” There’s no shortcut to being board-certified; I have to complete my three-yearresidency.
Maximoff is quietlythinking.
I’ve already drawn closer to him, my legs broken apart. His are spread open too, nearer. Fittogether.
Our elbows balance on my kneecap like we’re about to arm wrestle, but our hands aren’t closed in a fist. In the silence, he threads our fingers, unthreads them, and then traces the ink on my hand. Like the tiny blue sparrow along mythumb.
“Maybe we were wrong,” Maximoff says, brows scrunched in deep contemplation. “When we thought we only worked because you were my bodyguard—maybe we were wrong. Maybe it’s just what brought us together. Because I wanted youwaybefore that damnday.”
I watch him watch our interlacing hands. I’ve recalled my past with him, every moment, a hundred-and-five times and more. “I can believe that,” I say, voicehusky.
He licks his lips. “Because you knew I may’ve been somewhat-attracted to you for awhile?”
“Somewhat-attracted,” I repeat with a small burgeoning smile. “That’s where you’re shelving your sixteen-year-old fantasies of me? In the ‘somewhat-attracted’category?”
“The holy-fuck-I’m-coming category wasfull.”
I give him a look. “Ofwho?”
“Some guy.” He’s lying. It was definitely full of me. He tries to hook our fingers, but I pull back slightly,teasingly.
Heglares.
“I’m just some guy,” I remindhim.
“No,” Maximoff says, firm and final. “You’retheguy.”
It hits me hard, and Iinhale.
Damn.I let him hook our fingers, and I have to tell him this… “I can believe that me being your bodyguard is just what brought us together, not why we’re good together, because I wanted you before that daytoo.”
His mouth parts, and his elbow almost slips off myknee.
I clasp his hand. “Maximoff—”
“You never said a fucking thing.” He looks a little bithurt.
