Damaged Like Us (Like Us #1)(65)

“Wow.” She shakes her head.

“Wow. What?” I can’t say the right things, and correcting course is just driving myself further into a ditch.

“Wow, you want to be my friend but you can’t even have any confidence that it will happen,” she says. “Not in five-hundred years. Not in two years. How about ever?”

“I have confidence in myself, but friendship is a two-way street,” I reply.

Her brows furrow. “So you think I’m the one not trying?”

Fucking hell.

“You’re right,” I say. “This is difficult.”

“Agreed.”

Something nags at me, and it’s not going to bring us any closer since it’s about Maximoff. I scratch my jaw. “So Maximoff doesn’t have a license anymore,” I say. “I thought the only reason you didn’t ride together was because of his driving.”

“It was,” she replies. I pick up on the past tense.

“But it’s not anymore?”

“You two don’t get much time alone…” She shrugs.

I want to tell her not to worry about that. To do what she’d normally do, if I wasn’t around. But fuck. I love my one-on-one time with Maximoff, and those car rides are a big part of it. No piece of me wants to give that up just to be nice.

My earpiece buzzes. “Akara to Farrow,” Akara says through my mic. “We’re driving into the garage now. Are the doors unlocked?”

I step back from Jane, realizing that this conversation went from pleasant to painful in a matter of minutes. And honestly, it’s not her. I don’t even know if it’s me. It’s just this intangible, unquantifiable thing.





23





MAXIMOFF HALE





“I don’t think I brought enough chips,” Sulli says in my kitchen beside me. The two of us fix a plate of food for everyone. She inspects the Tostitos. “What was I thinking? One fucking bag. Akara can eat a whole bag by himself. And why did I bring donuts? No one likes midnight donuts but me.”

“Hey.” I place two hands on her broad swimmer’s shoulders. She’s long-legged and long-armed, and barefoot, she’s six-feet tall. Only a couple inches shorter than me, and we’re almost eye-level.

We look like brother and sister. Not just cousins.

Our moms are sisters. We share their green eyes.

Our dads are half-brothers. We share our grandfather’s dark brown hair (if I didn’t dye mine).

So you know Sullivan Minnie Meadows as the foul-mouthed, ultra-focused Olympian who returned home with four gold medals last summer in 200 & 400-meter freestyle and individual medley. You’re angry that she just retired from swimming, but some of you are too excited about the idea of Sullivan starting to date to seriously care.

I’ve seen your tweets about her virginity.

Back off.

And me…I know her as Sulli. My nineteen-year-old cousin who jokes crudely, loves wildly, and can outrace me on foot or water every single time. I love her like a little sister, and she has no brothers of her own.

Fair warning: I’ll rip each lung out of your ribcage and grind them in a rusted meat processor if you fuck with her.

“Don’t stress,” I say, clutching her shoulders. “One bag of chips is fine. And when have you ever cared if no one else likes donuts?”

“It’s our first Hallow Friends Eve.”

I get it. Halloween is more of my dad’s birthday and a giant costume get-together. Family only. Jane and Sulli have been trying to figure out a day-before-Halloween tradition for years that doesn’t include our parents or the little kids.

Hence, Hallow Friends Eve. Of our cousins and siblings, we decided to only invite those who’ve already graduated high school. Charlie never RSVP’d. Fucking typical. And his twin brother Beckett just became a principal dancer at a prestigious ballet company. He’d be here for Sulli, his best friend, but he has a performance tonight.

That just leaves Jane, Sulli, and me.

“And it’s my first time hosting a party,” Sulli reminds me. “It has to be perfect.” She inflicts pressure on herself all the time. Whenever Sullivan has a goal, in her mind it’s her job to go for gold.

“Co-hosting,” I correct, dropping my hands. “It’s my house. Anything goes wrong, you can blame me.” I pour her chips in an orange plastic bowl.

Sulli snorts. “That’s not how this works. You can’t fall on a sword for me, Mof.” Quietly, she adds, “And I don’t want this to be the worst party our bodyguards have ever been invited to.”

My brows scrunch. “Who are you trying to impress? It’s just Akara, Quinn, and Farrow.” We invited them as friends. Off-duty. We’re all staying in our townhouse all-night and watching a horror movie. They can drink alcohol, but they need to crash here.

We pushed the loveseat against the kitchen’s archway. So we have to hurdle the furniture to reach the living room where we set up beanbags and sleeping bags. Like Jane, Sulli is already wearing her pajamas, cupcake boxer shorts and a turquoise tank.

“I’m trying to impress all three of them,” Sulli whispers. “I’ve heard them talk shit about your pool party circa…how old were you?”