Lovers Like Us (Like Us #2)(22)

I roll my eyes. “Aye aye, captain.” My phone rings in the pocket of my track pants. Caller ID: Kinney Hale. Maximoff’s thirteen-year-old sister almost never calls me. I answer, “Hey?”

“We need you now. Don’t tell anyone. Hall bathroom near the kitchen. Be fast or die.” She hangs up.



I kick the bathroom door closed, and Kinney bombards me, green eyes shadowed in heavy black liner, dressed in knee-high socks, a black skirt and top, and a choker necklace. She puffs out her chest, but her bony build makes her appear comically tiny.

“We have problems,” she snaps.

I raise my brows. “No shit.”

“Real problems, you turd.” She crosses her lanky arms. “You need to drive us somewhere.”

“No,” I say and unpeel a piece of gum. Stepping past Kinney, I discover the “we” here.

By the toilet, Luna runs in place and then shimmies her arms and hips. I’m positive she’s dancing to no music, and if I should question the weirdness in that act, I don’t.

Kinney confronts me head-on. “We’re your boyfriend’s siblings.”

I pop my gum and notice Xander lounging in a claw-foot tub.

He pulls his bulky red headphones to the collar of his Winter is Coming shirt. “Save your breath, Kinney. He doesn’t give a damn—”

“Wow.” I slowly chew. “You really believe I don’t care when I’m here, entertaining a fragmented phone call that said absolutely nothing.”

He slumps further down the tub and lifts his headphones to his ears. “I think you’d rather bang my brother.”

My jaw muscle tics, but I lean casually on the granite counter. I didn’t imagine that dating Maximoff would affect his relationship with his brother, and I’m not happy about this at all.

“He didn’t mean it,” Luna says, panting as she runs in place.

Xander tugs down his headphones again. “Yeah, I did.”

I unpocket my phone to text Maximoff. “Your brother’s been trying to get ahold of you.”

Xander sits up, elbows on the lip of the tub. “He could’ve convinced someone to keep Thatcher on my security detail, but no, he wanted to fuck his bodyguard, and now I lost mine so you two could have a stupid chaperone.”

He’s fourteen-going-on-fifteen. He’s upset. I’m not about to tear into the kid, but I’m fucking irritated that he keeps referring to me as his brother’s fuck-buddy.

I loosely cross my arms. “If you think your brother would risk everything just to ‘fuck his bodyguard’—” I use air quotes “—then you don’t know him that well.”

His gaze hits the floor.

“Man, if Maximoff or I had the power to return Thatcher Moretti to you, we would in a fucking heartbeat. I want him around me like I want gangrene and a root canal.”

I recognize that Thatcher voted for me to remain Maximoff’s bodyguard, but I can’t even feign obedience. I’m not accustomed to being indebted to anyone either. I’d rather buy him a bottle of booze and call it even, but knowing Thatcher, he’ll want my firstborn and my coronary artery.

Xander mutters under his breath, “Moffy could’ve made it happen if he wanted to. He can do anything.”

I’m fucking glad Maximoff isn’t here. If he heard that, guilt and pressure would crush his shoulders. Then he’d make himself sick trying to fix this for his little brother, but he has no power over the Tri-Force.

Security switches happen, and Xander has to accept that Thatcher isn’t his bodyguard anymore.

“He can’t do everything,” I tell Xander. “Right now, he doesn’t even have a license.”

Xander gives me a weird look. “Shouldn’t you be his number one supporter? You’re dating him.”

He didn’t say “fucking” him. Getting better. “And I’m not overestimating his abilities and putting him in a shit bind. I call that…” I start to text Maximoff. “…love.”

Kinney lunges to steal my phone. Reflexes quick, I raise my cell in the air and then put a hand on her forehead. I use minimal strength to keep her back.

“You can’t tell anyone we’re here,” she sneers and flails for the phone.

“I’m texting your brother.”

Her thrashing ends, and she suddenly acts blasé and uncaring, sitting on the tub ledge. “Fine. He can join. As long as we leave soon.” She rolls her eyes at me. “God, stop looking at me like I’m a moron. I know things.”

I pop my gum and smile before texting: Come to the hall bathroom by the kitchen when you can. Xander is here with your sisters. I tuck my phone in the back pocket of my track pants and then swivel the volume of my radio.

“Wherever you need me to take you three,” I say, “I’ll need to call your bodyguards to join—”

“Uh-uh, no,” Luna pants, swinging her arms left and right in a retro dance move. “Just us, Farrow.”

I rest an elbow on the sink. “I can’t, Luna.”

“Excuse me.” Kinney gawks. “You’re a rule-breaker. Break the rules.”

I’m not a fan of Epsilon, but the guys in SFE will want my head on a platter if I take three of their clients on a joy ride to fuck-knows-where without them.