Page 59 of Alphas Like Us
We’re in the famous one’s townhouse. Oscar digs through the cupboard for snacks, listening to this conversation take aturn.
“I’m not smoking out my boyfriend.” I spin a butter knife between my fingers. “A.weed makes him sick andB.he’s Maximoff.” I’m sitting on the counter next to melting ice packs, a thermometer, and a portable fan, waiting for a bagel totoast.
Mostly, I’m giving Maximoff alone time with his family. I’ll be up theresoon.
Donnelly adjusts his septum piercing. “A.edibles made him sick. We aren’t sure about smoking. I gotta jawn in my pocket.” His lilt is thick onjawn,a word which means just about anything in Philly, but Donnelly uses it mostly forblunt.“B.he’s Maximoff in Pain with a capitalP.”
I chew Winterfresh, actually and truly considering Donnelly’s pitch to resolve Maximoff’sdistress.
Oscar notices. “Boyfriend is in that much pain that you’re taking advice fromDonnelly?” he asks with wide eyes, tearing open a bag ofpretzels.
I pop a bubble in my mouth. “Let’s put it this way: I wouldn’t be surprised if he pukes in thirtyminutes.”
It’s killing me to see Maximoff in this kind of agonizing pain, and I don’t know how to relieve it. Other than making him more comfortable and distractinghim.
Neither of which can come close to easing fractured ribs, a surgical operation on his collarbone, and internal bruising. I didn’t sustain any injuries, and my body is extremely fucking sore and my muscles areshot.
I feel like I’ve been in a boxing ring fighting and grappling for thirty days in a row.Nonstop.
Oscar digs into the pretzels. “He does have a high pain tolerance though. Ever seen that episode ofWe Are Callowaywhere he breaks his ankle? Maximoff walked on it for what…fivemiles? Didn’t even break asweat.”
I’ve seen that episode. “He’s breaking a sweat now,” I say easily, but that fact wedges like a pit in my ribs. My bagel pops, and I grab it from thetoaster.
“We hotbox the attic,” Donnelly offers, tugging open thefridge.
I slowly chew my gum. “Man, that entails getting all the famous oneshigh.”
“Bonus,” Donnelly says and chucks the cream cheese container tome.
I catch. “Downside: Maximoff will go into big brother mode for the rest of the night if his little sister ishigh.”
“He’s probably already there,” Donnelly tells me. “I saw her drinking Four Lokos while you wereupstairs.”
I roll my eyes. “I love that girl, butfuck.” I’m pissed because Maximoff shouldn’t have to worry about Luna tonight, and he will. Shit, I amright now. She buried her head in her shirt at the hospital, silently crying, and she’s kept to herself since the crash. Nowthis.
Oscar scratches his unshaven jaw. “Donnelly, you’re supposed to be making Redford feel better notworse.”
“I gave him creamcheese.”
I open the lid. “I’m having a night,” I tell them, being honest. “I’ll be fine later.” I’m just not in the mood for more bad shit. If something else goes wrong in the next twenty-four hours, I’m going to loseit.
Friends make long days feel good, but it’s the simple, little things that make the bad shit feel nonexistent. I just want to crawl into bed next to my boyfriend.Simple.
Easy.
“My guy doesn’t know you like I know you,” Donnelly says, bringing up Beckett, his client, who laid into me earlier. “Or else he wouldn’t have said the things hesaid.”
I spread cream cheese on my bagel. “I know.” I’ve already told Donnelly not to meddle and share details about me with Beckett. I’d rather earn that trust on myown.
At this rate, it may takeyears.
I spit my gum on a napkin and ask Oscar, “Charlie ever tell you why he wanted Beckett to do the auction?” I don’t ask Donnelly since he wouldn’t share Beckett’s secrets if he knewthem.
Oscar hangs into the cabinet. “That requires having a relationship where Charlie actually tells methings.”
“So that’s a no,” I say, biting into my bagel. I turn my head as Akara fills the archway. A backwards baseball cap pushes back his black hair, and like Oscar, he’s in workout clothes: a muscle shirt andsweats.
“How you holding up?” Akara asksme.
