Damaged Like Us (Like Us #1)(76)

His voice lowers to a deep whisper. “When did you have your first sexual experience with someone?” He needs me to answer first.

I don’t mind. “Thirteen. I was young, and I mistook you have a great ass for love.” Some people are into casual hookups or NSA sex, but that’s not my favorite thing. I prefer getting to know the person before or during or after for a while—and I can’t stand open relationships.

While you fuck me, you only fuck me.

His lips lift, but then they fall in deep contemplation, mulling over my words: I was young, and I mistook ‘you have a great ass’ for love. And then he asks, “How do you know that’s not happening now?”

My brows jump. “That’s assuming I’m in love with y—” I cut myself off, reading his stiff, rigid body language clearly. His features start padlocking. Shutting me out. No. No. “Hey, I’m fucking with you, Maximoff. I’m an asshole.” I clutch his impassive face. My stomach twists. It’s extremely hard for him to be vulnerable. I know this.

I shouldn’t have made that joke.

“It’s fine,” he says, his voice void of emotion. “I get it.”

“No you don’t.” And I tell him bluntly, assuredly, without a fucking doubt, “You’re my boyfriend. And from the jump-start, this has always been more than just sex.” Yeah, we wanted to fuck each other’s brains out, but for Maximoff to take this risk, it had to be more than what he can get at a nightclub.

His shoulders try to loosen, and he starts to smile, water dripping off our wet hair. “Boyfriends. Are you sure that’s what we are?”

“A hundred percent.” I pause. “Are you?”

He nods strongly. “Yeah.”

I just fucking kiss him. He deepens the embrace, his hand rising from my ass to the back of my head.

When our lips break, he finally tells me, “Seventeen. That’s when I had sex for the first time.”

It makes sense. I’m about to speak, but his phone rings by the diving board. A call. Maximoff immediately swims over to the other side, and I pull myself out of the water.

He’s already sitting on the edge, phone in hand, when I reach him. “It’s Luna.” Concern hardens his face.

It’s one a.m. on a school night, late for Luna to call.

He clicks the speakerphone button. “Hey, what’s going on?”

She sniffles, and as soon as Maximoff has a mere hint of Luna crying, he stands up with the “we need to leave” face.

I grab our towels, dry clothes, my holstered gun, radio—all set. Water drips off us, creating puddles at our feet. But he won’t want to waste time changing.

By the time Luna speaks, we’re in the elevator descending to the parking deck.

“I just got my last test scores back before finals.” Her voice cracks. “Moffy, I failed three of my classes.” She starts crying. “Eliot and Tom did the calculations, and I’d…I’d have to make a hundred-and-ninety-three on my finals to even pass.”

Shit. I hook my radio to my damp swim shorts and fit the earpiece in my ear.

Maximoff grips the cell hard in his hand and pushes the elevator P3 button repeatedly. “What the hell happened, Luna? I thought you were doing better.”

“Hi, Luna,” I greet and catch his hand so he’ll stop punching the fucking button. And I keep his hand in mine for a long beat.

“Farrow, did you hear—”

“Yeah. Hang in there.”

“I’m trying.” Her voice shakes. “But it’s my fault. I missed too many quizzes. I skipped the classes where I’d have to see Jeffra.”

“What’d she do?” Maximoff almost growls.

“She made a rumor in August that I’m so weird, I eat shit for fun. I didn’t care. She could’ve called me anything, and I wouldn’t have cared.” Luna takes a short pause. “But someone put real shit in a paper bag in my locker, and I just couldn’t even look at her, it made me sick.”

My jaw muscle tics.

Maximoff’s eyes flash murderously. If he speaks, he may say something like, I’m going to kill someone.

I squeeze his hand. “It’s not your fault,” I tell her.

“I let her make me feel worse,” Luna says. “It’s my fault.”

“No,” Maximoff growls. “It’s not.”

“Where was your bodyguard?” I ask. Epsilon didn’t share this information with the whole team. Or else I would’ve known.

“He never saw. I just acted like it was my lunch and then threw it away. I didn’t want him to worry Mom and Dad.” Her words quiver. “Now I wish I had. Because then maybe I would’ve had the courage to face her in class. And I know I can repeat the school year or do homeschool like Xander, but I just wanted the cap-and-gown graduation for them. I saw how they looked at you, Moffy, when you graduated, and I wanted to give that to Mom and Dad. I wanted them to be proud of me. And I fucked it up.”

Maximoff glares at the phone. “Luna, listen to me. I love you. I’m coming over. We’ll figure out how to tell Mom and Dad then.”

The elevator dings. We’ve reached P3.





27





MAXIMOFF HALE