Page 169 of Headstrong Like Us
Beckett appraises her back. “It’s not that deep.”
“You’ll live,” Charlie says. “But we can still throw you a funeral to celebrate the death of your common sense.”
Audrey gasps.
“Charlie,” Jane snaps.
I finish bandaging her tender skin. “You’re all set, Audrey.” Fast as lightning, I snap off my gloves and pack up my med bag.
No one else needs me here. So I move ahead of them. Not hesitating or lingering, I sprint up the narrow steps that lead to the lookout point. This high, wind whirls in harsher gusts.
And at the top, Maximoff is tying the paracord rope on a low guard rail. I drop my med bag beside him, and his head swerves to me.
“You forget to read the sign?” I nod to the red circular sign nearby. “It saysno climbing.”
He tightens a fancy knot that I’ve never even fucking heard of. “You’re the one who always says rules are supposed to be broken. Boundaries are like cautionary tales. Go ahead.”
I roll my eyes. “I said that in reference to being with you.” He was my do-not-enter boundary, my cautionary tale that I wanted to pursue with caution but still go on ahead. “This is a literal do not enter sign.”
“You’re really going to tell me you’ve never walked through those too?” Maximoff questions.
He has a point, and I peer over the cliff.
On a rock ledge, over twenty-feet below, lies cracked cellphones and piles of clothing. My muscles tense, just picturing Maximoff descending this cliffside. Everyone believes he can do anything, all without breaking a sweat, and I believe in him and know he’s capable of a lot.
He’s capable of doing this, but I also care about him enough to protect his body from harm. When it’s too much, too far.
Maximoff finishes the knot and slowly rises to his feet. Our eyes latch, and it’s like being slowly asphyxiated.
Wind whips around us, and for a brief moment, it feels like it’s just him and me. No one else on this cliff.
“Farrow,” he whispers, hard uneasiness in his voice. “I keep thinking about our son.”
I swallow a rock. “What about him?”
He blinks a few times. “I want to be the best brother, the best cousin, but I think risking my life over a bunch of cellphones makes me a bad father…a bad husband.” His face contorts, his head almost hanging—he rarely hangs his head.
“Maximoff—”
“Do you think I can do this?”
Okay, heneverasks me that. He’s too stubborn. We’re too competitive. Too much of a lot of shit that makes us reckless fools. But he’s asking me now, and primal affection twists my gut. I just care a lot about him.
Fuck, I love him.
“I think you can do it,” I tell him. “But that doesn’t mean you should.”
A beat passes between us.
He bends down and unknots the rope. “Alright.”
“Alright?” I ask, shocked and overwhelmed.
Maximoff nods. “If you really don’t think I should, then I don’t want to do it, man.” His eyes are on mine, relief in them like he just wanted me to help him stop.His mind was already there.
It’s okay.
He’s allowed to stop.
