Page 33 of Sinful Like Us
We, Cobalts, are notorious secret-keepers and loyal to the very death, so I understand his confusion.
“I do think they would,” I say softly, “at least 98% of me does, but there’s 2% uncertainty.”
Banks asks, “Where’s the 2% coming from?”
Uneasiness sinks my stomach. I glance up.
Thatcher rubs his mouth a couple times and then nods. “Me.”
“I’m the first Cobalt to be in a relationship,” I explain, “and I just can’t predict whether my mom and dad will challenge you or profess immediate fealty. It’s too soon to tell, and in my mind, there’s not enough substantial data.”
Thatcher and Banks lock eyes and speak through a long look, and then Banks shrugs. “It’s not like you’re supposed to be around Connor and Rose. You’re on Hale duty. I can pretend to be you and protect Xander. Easy.”
Thatcher looks grave. “If you run into her parents—”
“I won’t. It’s only a week.”
I nod. “Since it’s such a short timespan, it’s easier just not telling them. We don’t need to add in more variables.”
Just as they agree, the bar quiets to murmurs, and I follow gazes as the door clatters shut.
Snow and cold air blown inside, Maximoff lowers the hood of his Eagles sweatshirt, and Farrow combs back his bleach-white hair. Hand in hand, they weave their way between nosy looks and side-eyes to reach our spot.
I instantly smile.
Maximoff lets go of Farrow and nears me. “Bonsoir, ma moitié.” His forest-green eyes sparkle with happiness. There’s nothing less that I’d want for him.
I stand off Thatcher to hug my best friend. We breathe deeply, and Moffy kisses both my cheeks. Attention presses on us, but thankfully some bar chatter reignites.
“It’s just you and me, old chap.” I smile more. “And my boyfriend, your fiancé, and my boyfriend’s brother.” My cheeks hurt at this declaration, but his smile drops faster and he glances over at Tony.
I prickle. “Yes, he’sunfortunatelystill here.”
Maximoff grimaces. “I think he’s smirking at me.”
“I don’t even want to look.” I pay more attention to the bodyguards we like. Subtly, they shift around us. Thatcher rises from the stool and positions himself next to Banks. Farrow does the same, all three creating a semi-circle barrier between us and bar patrons.
Moffy and I are pushed up against the sticky counter. Where I’m sure is the safest place to be. I excitedly grab the messy binder, stuffing loose papers back inside. “I found some great cost effective vendors, especially for flowers.”
“Before that,” Moffy whispers, “did you talk to Thatcher about He Who Must Not Be Named?”
Tony has reached Lord Voldemort levels of evil for Maximoff ever since he overheard my bodyguard crack a “joke” about ThatcherandBanks sleeping with me.
Something along the lines of,she likes that two-for-one action?
I’ve been venting to Moffy about how much I hate Tony and how much I wish I could vent to Thatcher, and it was eating me inside out.
“I told him everything,” I whisper and breathe out a lighter breath.
Maximoff smiles, able to see that I’m at a better place. “So Janie Dark Ages is diverted?”
“Sufficiently.”
“Forever.”
“We can only hope.” I lean my hip into his side, and he wraps an arm around my waist. Our backs to the bar, we stare ahead.
His fiancé and my boyfriend speak under their breaths to one another, seeming very civil, and that isprofoundlynew.
