Page 98 of Alphas Like Us
I can’t stop staring at him. Feeling how much he cares about me, his hand rises to my cheek. Hovering over thewelt.
I clutch his hand in mind and lower them to oursides.
“He fuckinghityou,” hesays.
I nod a few times. “I love that you want to stick up for me. But among other things, your dominant arm is bound to yourchest.”
Maximoff glances at his red sling, then looks right at me. “I’m stronger than you with just onearm.”
Ilaugh.
Shit, I can’t believe I’m laughing after that shit show. But he brings me this effortless joy, and I cling onto that for dear fuckinglife.
“He took you quitting that badly?” heasks.
“I’ll catch you up in the car.” And before he asks, I tell him, “We’re going to my old neighborhood. And I’m going to talk to myfather.”
Right now. There’s not a better time than the present. Because there will neverbe a goodtime.
Maximoff doesn’t question the abruptness. As soon as I start to lead him to the garage, he’s pace-for-pace in step with me. Hand-in-hand.
Like a soldier prepared for love andwar.
16
FARROW KEENE
Door is unlocked.I’ll be in the sunroom. –Dad
No face-to-face verbal contact in almost four years and that was his reply. I only messaged him that I wanted to talk in person and that I was on my way to his house with Maximoff. I can’t even be surprised by my father’s lack of enthusiasm. It’s not like I texted:I’m returning to medicine. You’rewelcome.
I’m treating this interaction like a meeting with a college professor. That’s all it reallyis.
Maximoff knows thistoo.
It’s why he didn’t ask to change clothes to impress my father. He’s shirtless, still in the same drawstring pants that hang low on his muscularwaist.
His ass looks great. But he wouldn’t catch me checking him out, even if I waved a hand in front of hisface.
Because as soon as we enter the foyer and hallway, he soaks up our surroundings. Like he’s placing my younger selfeverywhere.
I watch him with a growing smile. He’s lost in the décor of Italian painters and overflowing vases of wildflowers. He looks up at the vaulted glass ceiling and down at the marble floors beneath his scuffedTimberlands.
Where his family home is warm and inviting, mine is a poster child for blue-bloodedpretentiousness.
Maximoff glances at the dining room’s table set for twelve. “Did your house look like this when you grew uphere?”
I toss my head from side-to-side. “Somewhat. Less paintings. Rachel is an art collector,” I remind him in case he forgot. He knows my stepmom moved in around the time when I went tocollege.
We turn a corner into an open living room, cigar bar, and upscale kitchen. I put a piece of gum in mymouth.
He zones in on the baby grand piano near a towering bookcase. “You can play?” heasks.
I leave his side and approach the piano. I look over my shoulder. “Can you, wolfscout?”
Maximoff gestures to me. “I asked you first,man.”
He can’t play.I pop a bubble in my mouth. “How badly are you hoping I’m a shit pianist because you are?” My fingers brush thekeys.
