Page 36 of Lovers Like Us
Aisle number two carries mostly junk food: beef jerky, Pringles, and popcorn. Then random fruit. Oranges, bananas—I take a redapple.
And I place a hand on his chest. Stopping him mid-aisle because he’s been too quiet. Even the whole ride here. I lift the aviators to my head, pushing my hair back. “The talk with your dad went that badly?” I finallyask.
“My dad kept twisting his wedding ring.” He purposefully buries his emotion, his face blank. “Thatmeans—”
“I know what that means,” I say, even if the fact isn’t public knowledge. I spent three years around Lily and Lo, and anytime Lo was in a bad place with his addiction, he’d twist hisring.
Maximoff blinks a few times, his guard descending. Letting some kind of emotion breakthrough.
My hand rises to the back of his neck, and he suddenly clasps my shoulders, his muscular arms wrapping around them. At the same time, we both step into a hug. Chest against chest. I stroke the back of his neck, and he holds us together in a strongembrace.
I feel his heart thud hard andfast.
Against his ear, I whisper, “I’m sorry.” I know how much he loves his parents, and not being able to fix this must be killinghim.
His chest collapses in a deeper breath, and we tilt our heads back, our eyes skimming each other. I’d say I lean in first, but he’d tell you the exactopposite.
I kiss him tenderly like I’m the saint, and go figure, he full-bodies the kiss like he’s the sinner. Meaning, he pulls our builds even closer together while our mouths melddeeper.
Damn.
I step him towards the back of the store, and he wrestles for the lead and spins me into a shelf—shit.My shoulder blades knock into a tower of Moon Pies, and they start falling onto the linoleumfloor.
We tear apart, and I push the Moon Pie box back on the shelf while Maximoff picks up the fallenpackages.
I eye the old man at the cash register. He lets out a long snore. Not waking. Even if he did, I doubt he’s in touch with celebritynews.
I peel the sticker off the red apple, and Maximoff fixes his disheveled hair. He also keeps licking his lips, like he still feels me onthem.
Our eyes meet, and he asks, “Did my mom talk toyou?”
I didn’t expect that divergence. “I just kissed the fuck out of you, and now you’re thinking about yourmom?”
He feigns confusion. “Let me get in my time machine. Look at that, I just kissed the fuck out ofyou. Not the other wayaround.”
I roll my eyes and then smile. “And I’m a hundred-percent positive you dreamed of my tongue in your mouth at sixteen.” I toss my apple in my hand. “That’s a truefact.”
Right on cue, he gives me two middle fingers, and his eyes drift to mymouth.
I whistle. “And he wants me to kiss himagain.”
Maximoff glances at the storeowner. Dead asleep. Then me. “Seriously, Farrow, did my mom talk toyou?”
“No,” I say easily. “I didn’t expect herto.”
He frowns. “Whynot?”
I pause, apple near my mouth. “It has more to do with me than you. When I was on her security detail, I built a lot of trust between me and your parents. By lying to them about you, I basically obliterated all of that. They’ll patch things up with you because you’re their son, but I expect a four-month cold shoulder, atleast.”
He nods, tensedagain.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s my shit to deal with.” I bite into the apple, and he looks at me like I’ve just stolen half the store—which, to be honest, contains nothing valuable tosteal.
“What are you doing?” he asks and checks on the sleeping old managain.
Maximoff.“Eating.” I extend the apple to him. Just to piss him off. “Want a bite?” I walk nearer, and he makes a point to cross his arms, bicepsbulging.
“You’restealing.”
