Page 155 of Alphas Like Us
“Why wouldn’t you just say that then?” Farrow questions, confused more than anything. “You used to boast aboutprogresswhen Charlie told you about a flight two fucking days in advance of takeoff instead of an hourbefore.”
Oscar drums the booth. “Because…knowing more than I should…it just makes it harder for me to brush youoff.”
“Okay,” Farrow says easily, piling cheese on a cracker. “I’ll accept that. But I do want to know your reasoning behind the charade.” He pops the cracker in his mouth. “Your cunning ass owes me that atleast.”
I notice how Farrow leans back into my arm that’s around him. Getting comfortable in my embrace. Before he catches me staring—because he’s a literal heartbeat from looking over with a rising smile that saysyou like that—I focus onOscar.
He digs into a basket of baked chips. “You know media and fans want even the smallest fact from Charlie? Like how the guy brushes his teeth, when he takes a piss. All because he’s theenigmaticone in the press. So I position myself as a bodyguard that isn’t told shit, and then people won’t even ask me a single thing.” He crunches on a chip. “It’s not like it started that way, and Charlie is still slowly trusting me. Tomorrow, he could try to ditch my ass and fly off to HongKong.”
Farrow nods understandingly, and he takes a swig from hispint.
I glance at my sister, checking on her briefly to see if she’s okay, before I look back at Oscar. “Does Donnelly know?” Iwonder.
Oscar picks up his beer. “It’d be a little difficult to keep that from him,considering.”
“You’re around each other all the time,” I say into a nod. It makes sense since Beckett and Charlie live together. Their bodyguards would have to be close, too. And I glance at Farrow enough to ask, “Does that make you the thirdwheel?”
Farrow almost laughs. “I’m better than that, wolf scout.” His smile stretches while he stares right into me. “Plus, I’ve got theguy.”
Yeah, I try hard not to smile back at that. Criticalfailure.
Oscar slow-claps and then cranes his neck past us to glance at the bar. “What do we know aboutHighland?”
Farrow sets down his beer glass. “Straight.”
Oscar reaches for a pretzel bite. “Wesure?”
“You have a crush on him?” Iask.
Oscar chokes on his food and smacks his chest a couple times. Farrow is laughing, but I’m not sure if it’s at me orOscar.
“What’d I say?” My browsfurrow.
“Crush.” Oscar shoots me a look. “Bro, do I look like your thirteen-year-oldsister?”
“I don’t know, Oliveira,” Farrow says easily. “You could pull off goth.” Farrow runs his fingers up the back of my neck. It feels really good and distracts me from the fact that I’m not always great at fitting into their easybanter.
Tom drops a bowling ball a few lanes away and the clatter distractsus.
Great. I’m about to rise, but Oscar slips out of the booth first. “I’m going to go help your cousin not break a toe,” he tells me. I think in part to give me some alone time with Farrow, who appears at ease, but heaviness sits behind his eyes that I’m pretty sure Oscar can see as well as Ican.
After Oscar walks down the lanes, I turn to face Farrow. He tugs off his boot and puts on the bowling shoe. He looks back at me, and I know something’swrong.
“You want to talk about it?” I have toask.
His chest falls, but he shakes his head. “Not today, wolfscout.”
I nod and practice somepatience.
“You.” Kinney’s voice pitches. “You were late.” My little sister approaches with a goblet of purple liquid and a cinnamonstick.
“That looks disgusting,” I tellher.
“It tastes like hell and the bottom of my soul,” she says, slurping a large sip from the straw and then setting an epic glare ontoFarrow.
I shoot her a warning look to go easy onhim.
Farrow finishes tying his bowling shoes. “Next time I’ll be the first one here,Kinney.”
