Page 113 of Headstrong Like Us
“Yeah,” Akara tells Jack. “Will is still around.”
I’ve heard enough through comms about the Rooster, aka Will Rochester (Sulli’s boyfriend). And it’s easy to crack a guess that they’d like a different guy to date Sulli. I don’t have strong feelings about the issue, except that Maximoff doesn’t love the Rochester family.
From my vantage, Will Rochester is as interesting as beige wallpaper. But if he makes Sulli happy, who am I to judge?
Banks zones in on the pack of cigarettes I throw on the table. “Mother of God, I need to get drunk.” Standing to his feet, he walks to the other side of the VIP couch and seizes a bottle of vodka.
Thatcher follows his movements with his eyes like a protective big brother, even though he’s only six minutes older.
“Oscar’s turn.” Donnelly taps ash into the tray.
He pries out a block and reads, “Dare.The arrow is pointing to…”
Donnelly blows a middle-finger kiss.
“Fuck you,” Oscar says casually.
Donnelly contemplates a dare for Oscar, staring up at the strobe lights. “I dare you…to let the groom pierce your nose.”
Oscar sighs like Donnelly took a kill shot.
I laugh hard. He’s never let me or Donnelly pierce him. Oscar ends up grinning. “Only because my decade-long friend is getting married. Put that in your mental Rolodex.”
I smile so fucking wide.
We make a deal that I’ll pierce his nose back at the house tonight. And we keep playing. The stack falls on Quinn, and he has to down two shots.
I try to drink less, my instincts on a taut wire. It’s been a while since I’ve last heard from the temp on Maximoff’s detail. I click my mic. “Farrow to Jasper. Can I get an update on Maximoff?”
Six heads whip in my direction. Necks snapping. Yeah, Omega heard my request over comms. Didn’t really care. Still don’t.
“Redford.” Oscar gives me a look. “We all made a pact.”
The pact was to not check in with our clients. Only Akara is supposed to be in communication with the temps.
“He broke it, so we can all break it?” Donnelly’s fingers hover over his mic, seconds from calling for an update on Xander.
“No,” Akara says. “Don’t jam up comms.”
Jasper’s voice comes through. “Uh, yeah…he’s okay…”
Everyone collectively goes rigid.
That sounded too cagey.
Akara clicks his mic and starts asking for detailed updates.
And then, my phone pings with a text.
From my groom.
Did you hire strippers to come over here? Some showed up– Maximoff
I have a hand over my mouth, re-skimming that message. The only request we had about our bachelor parties:no strippers.The thought of a set of breasts or another dick rubbing up on Maximoff is what I’d consider hell.
Maximoff felt the same, and I thought he’d burst a blood vessel when we just talkedabout strippers. We’re territorial assholes.
I look up at Jack and all of SFO. “Did any of you fuckers hire strippers?”
