Page 93 of Alphas Like Us
Maximoff will definitely want to go, and I would’ve loved to be his date to this.There’ll beothers.
It reminds me how Maximoff has been planning our “first” formal date. In my eyes, we’ve been on a hundred-and-twelve dates already. In wolf scout’s eyes, they were all “semi-dates” since I had to keep up the bodyguard charade. I couldn’t eat dessert off his plate. Couldn’t kiss him. Couldn’t even hold hishand.
All restrictions are gone now, and honestly, I love how much Maximoff is treating this like it’s all new, all over again. Because there are very few feelings I love more than experiencingfirstswithhim.
I slip the invite into itsenvelope.
Oscar holds out two more cards to the guys. “Moretti, Kitsuwon.” Thatcher and Akara grab theirinvites.
I eye Donnelly who easily brushes off the rejection. Caring and loving parents worry about guys like Donnelly befriending their children. On paper, he reads like a badinfluence.
In reality, he’snot.
I recognize the greatest benefit of having a father who really only cared about medicine. I was able to invite Donnelly everywhere. And Donnelly always said yesand camealong.
I unsnap a rubber band off a package. “Joana is finally going through with it?” I ask Oscar since I witnessed the Oliveira family meltdown when she refused to get confirmed two years ago. I wasn’t raised in a religious household, but her decision appeared like a familialbetrayal.
Quinn chimes in, “Only because our avó stopped talking to Jo.” He uncovers an alien plushie from tissuepaper.
Thatcher pockets his invite. “If I’d been confirmed late, my grandma would’ve done the same tome.”
Oscar discards aCharlie Motherfucking Cobaltmug. “She’s lucky that I’m picking up our avó from the airport nextweek.”
I skim anotherget wellcard. “You volunteer for that, Oliveira, or were you selected for theslaughter?”
“My confirmation gift to my baby sister,” he explains, slicing open another box. “What’d I miss when Charlie went to the bar?” He means from tonight. We all joined in trivia with the famous ones, but we were also all on-duty. Consequently, Oscar had to follow his client away from ourbooth.
I trash homemade chocolate chip cookies. “Just how Ben hasn’t been able to drive since thecrash.”
Donnelly adds, “Jane said his foot keeps shaking on thepedal.”
Oscar mutters a curse. “I have fifteen years of driving experience on Ben, andIwas having issues keeping the Range Rover on all four wheels thatnight.”
Quinn hurls an empty box at the fireplace. “Paparazzi should’ve backed the fuckoff.”
“They won’t,” Akara says, flipping through a handcraftedSullivan Meadowsscrapbook. “The best the parents can do is keep filinglawsuits.”
But none have stuck yet. The Hales, Meadows, and Cobalts have also requested that the bodyguards drive for the younger kids until furthernotice.
Donnelly rattles his open mailer upside-down, and a lacy thong falls to thefloor.
We all seeit.
“Smell it, Donnelly,” I say with a rising smile. “Could be the mysteryscent.”
He pinches the pink thong between gloved fingers andsniffs.
Quinn gags into hisfist.
“Nah,” Donnelly says, “just smells like pussy.” He flings the panties into the trash and reads the card aloud. “Beckett Joyce Cobalt, I came in these thinking of you.” He smirks. “My guy has so manyadmirers.”
Silently, Thatcher dumps a ball gag and dildo in the trash. All mailed toJane.
Oscar swigs a Ziff sports drink and reads, “Dear Charlie, I want to have your babies.She left her phonenumber.”
“Can’t blame her.” Donnelly reaches for a new package. “Who wouldn’t want to have some Cobaltbabies?”
Thatcher casts a reprimanding look but staysquiet.
