Lovers Like Us (Like Us #2)(29)

I hold his jaw and guide his head forward and a little downward. I can feel him watching me as I examine the bridge of his nose.

By sight alone, the break isn’t clear. His nose isn’t sitting crooked on his face, but it swells. Skin in the corner of his eyes also reddens, the start of bruising.

His voice is stuffed as he tells me, “It’s not that bad.”

I pop my gum. “That’s cute that you think I can’t tell if it’s serious or not.” I glance at the three spectators. “Get me ice.”

Sulli darts out. “Kits, where’s the ice?”

Beckett slips further inside the bathroom, clutching the neck of a beer, and he scans the trickles of blood along the stone tile.

Maximoff pulls out of my hand. “I’ll clean it later. Watch out, Beckett.”

“I’ve seen worse.” Beckett puts his beer to his lips. “You’ve forgotten that I’ve lived on my own in New York for the past three years. I’ve grown up. Independent and free.” He outstretches his arms before looking at me from head-to-toe. Sizing me up for the fourth time, and that’s just counting today.

See, what I know of Beckett Cobalt is mostly based on bodyguard-talk, and Donnelly told me that Beckett is anti-relationships from trust issues being a celebrity.

He’s cautious of me. Either he believes I’m going to fuck and chuck Maximoff or toy with his emotions. Both of which, I’m not subscribing to.

But I’m not about to convince a twenty-year-old that I’m “here for the right reasons” and prefer long-term relationships.

I raise my brows at him. “Question?”

Beckett licks beer off his lips. “Not at the moment.” Then he shakes his head at Maximoff. “She was one elbow away from me, and you were hit. You have the worst luck.”

“It’s the Hale Curse,” Donnelly says, propping his tattooed arm on the door frame and drinking a beer.

I roll my eyes and gesture Maximoff closer.

“The what?” Maximoff asks, his brows knotted, but he edges nearer and stands between my legs. I clutch his jaw again and inspect his nose.

“Don’t ask him,” I tell Maximoff. “Donnelly tattooed Cobalts Never Die on his knee. He’d create imaginary curses for any family but that one.”

Beckett grins into his swig of beer. “That’s true.”

Donnelly ignores his client and motions his bottle to Maximoff. “The Hale Curse. If there’s a Hale in the room: what could go wrong, will go wrong to the Hale. Statistically proven.”

The security team basically loses their shit whenever Beckett makes the face that he’s making now. It’s a scrunched-up, un-replicated you idiot, that’s utter bullshit face.

“Statistically proven,” Beckett says, “zero percent of the time.”

Maximoff starts smiling, even covered in blood.

I barely glance at Donnelly. “Looks like your client is smarter than you.”

Donnelly pats Beckett’s back. “Learned from the best. Me.” Such a buddy-guard.

Oscar squeezes through the hallway. “That’s a negative thing, Donnelly.” He skids to a halt by the door and winces at Maximoff. “Ouch.”

Quinn peeks his head in. “God, I know how that feels.” He points at the scar along his crooked nose. “Two years ago, right hook in the ring.”

“What’s that scar from?” Sulli wedges in and points at the tiny scar below his eye, and she tosses the ice baggie wrapped in a towel to Beckett. He catches it.

I’d really love for this unnecessary audience to evacuate the bathroom and hallway and stop distracting Maximoff. Who at this point has completely rotated his head away from them, and he stares at the wall.

“Skin split from another boxing match,” Quinn says. “I KO’d the other guy.”

Oscar and Donnelly start clapping in jest, and normally, I would’ve joined the mock applause, but I need these fuckers out of the bathroom.

“Okay.” I chew my gum. “I can’t do my best work with you bastards shadowing the light.” I’m not about to say, hey guys, Maximoff has trouble being vulnerable in front of people, so please kindly exit. No. I gesture to the Omega bodyguards. “Get the fuck out.”

As Donnelly leaves, he blows me a middle-finger kiss, and Oscar makes some remark about me being territorial. Quinn asks if I need anything, and Oscar sticks his head back in, just to mouth, my brother loves you. He bats his lashes.

I pop my gum and just tell Quinn, “Ibuprofen for Maximoff.”

Once they disperse, Beckett stays in the bathroom with Sulli in the doorway.

I train my focus on Maximoff. “I need to touch your nose and feel for a fracture.”

His joints lock up.

I’m not going to hurt you. I express that through my eyes, and then he nods. I lightly skim my thumb down the swollen bridge before pinching a little.

He shuts his eyes for a moment, the only sign of pain. “I’m fine,” he tries to assure me.

I concentrate on a centimeter of bone, adding almost no force as I run my finger back and forth. Shit. I drop my hand when I’m 100% certain.

“He’s prone to nosebleeds,” Beckett tells me. “This happened years back at that yacht party, and the bone didn’t break.”

Maximoff holds my gaze strongly, both of us remembering that moment. I was there. I stood on the yacht deck and saw him fight Charlie on the dock below.