Page 10 of Lovers Like Us
His smile is out of fucking control. “With or without me, you’re not going to survive to be two-thousand-twenty-two-years-old.”
“I didn’t realize you could see thefuture.”
Farrow laughs once. “Such a smartass.” He shakes his head in thought. “Needwasn’t the right word then.” He holds my gaze. “Do you want me withyou?”
Yeah.
Something wells up inside of me. I let go of any and all emotional barriers, and he sees that affirmation a thousand times across myface.
Farrow steps off the door. And in a swift, seamless move, he clutches the back of my head—and he kisses me.Fuck.
Me.
I part his mouth, hunger driving my tongue against his, and our bodies instinctively thrust together. Like we’ve been teasing for a damn century. Every explosive kiss detonates my body. Mybrain.
I grip his hair in a tight fist; his low groan barrels against mymouth.
“Fuck,” he breathes and nips mylip.
Christ yes. Heat sweltering, building, scalding—he stops first, drawingback.
Farrow fits in his earpiece that must’ve fallen out. “You want me, you have me. Let’s go, wolfscout.”
I’m still winded, my head on a tilt-a-whirl. I lick my stinging lips. I feel like he just fucked me in multiplepositions.
He combs his hands through his ruffled hair, his mouth curving upwards. “You need a minute to catch yourbreath?”
“Not if you don’t,” I retort and stop breathing heavily. “Followme.”
I can feel his eye-roll and grin behind my back, and I rub my mouth again and realize I’m smiling. Even in the face of what could be a serious,realdoomsday.
2
MAXIMOFF HALE
Surprise,I’m not the late person here. Jane texts that she’ll be in the kitchen in asecond.
Proactivelywaitingisn’t my thing. I can admit that. So when Farrow unwraps a piece of gum and tugs open the fridge, I ask him, “Needhelp?”
He chews his gum slowly and glances at me in a way that reminds me he’s twenty-seven. I’m twenty-two, and he’s more than capable to do shithimself.
Farrow starts to smile. “It’s cute that you think I need help getting eggs.” He grabs a carton and kicks the fridgeclosed.
“You could’ve dropped the fucking eggs.” I’m fighting a stupid battle. And I grimace-smile which makes me want to poke my own eyesout.
Farrow pops his gum. “You meanyouwould’ve dropped theeggs.”
“Did I? Pretty sure I meant youcould’ve.”
Farrow sets the carton by the sink. “I have steadier hands than you.” He leans close and whispers huskily, “You’re not beating me atthis.”
I shake my head on instinct. When it comes to Farrow, boyfriend or not, I don’t want to concede that fast. “It’s not provenyet.”
He rolls his eyes into a smile. “Hold out yourhand.”
I extend my hand, palm-down. Wondering how he can discern any shake just bysight.
Farrow rotates my wrist. “Like this.” And then he smashes an egg right in mypalm.
