Page 128 of Headstrong Like Us
“Whoa, Farrow.” Eliot sees me, then Charlie. “Brother.” He grins. “Communal bathroom chitchat with the groom?” He tries to sling an arm over Charlie, but his older brother skillfully spins out of the embrace.
“You missed it,” Charlie says smoothly.
“I’ll take a play by play then,” Eliot quips. “Was there humor? If not, then I’ll pass.”
Charlie smiles.
I’m going to max-out fast on Cobalt banter, and I’m about to leave but as Tom goes to the urinal, people I’ve never seen before enter the bathroom. Three thirty-something guys use the toilet stalls, two others linger near the urinals, stumbling as they stand.
I’m hawkeyed. These dipshits are one glance away from watching Tom piss.
I block their view. “What are you looking at?”
He snickers. “You know.” He tries to stumble around me, aimed for Tom, and I capture his arm. He tries to fight me.
He’s swatting at my face, and his friend yells at him to stop.
Easily, I wrench his arm behind his back and shove him up against the sink. I touch my mic. “Oscar.” That’s all it takes. He’s right outside, and the bathroom door whips open.
He assesses. “I have him, Redford.” He takes my place and nods to me. “Go find the Groom. I heard he was looking for you.”
26
FARROW KEENE
Leaving the bathroom,I adjust my earpiece and weave between bodies in the packed bar. If Maximoff were in real trouble, Oscar would’ve been more urgent. He won’t admit it to my face, but my best guess is that my groom just wants to be with me.
I’m trying to find him.
I pass a handful of college-aged girls in summer dresses. One with blond ringlets cuts off my path.
“Uh, hi. You’re Farrow Keene.”
“Yeah.” I glance over her shoulder, surveying the dance pit for Maximoff. I’m hoping he stayed in the makeshift VIP area, but that’d just be too easy.
“And you’re friends with Paul Donnelly, right?” she drones on. “Do you think you could maybe introduce me to him. I’m a huge fan of the Ass-Kicker.” Mention of Donnelly’s nickname from the Hot Santa Video barely draws my attention back to her.
I have places to be. “Paul?” I already sidestep past her. “Never heard of him.”
“What about Quinn?!” her friend yells at my back.
“Oh my God, please tell me you have Quinn’s number!” another girl screams as I leave.
I locate Maximoff. The six-foot-two, hot-as-sin American prince. He dances on the sandy floor with Luna, Kinney, and Xander. Bodyguards circle around them, the barrier intense enough that I know Maximoff is safe.
I start making my way to him.
“Hey, Farrow!” a temp bodyguard yells over the music and steps in front of me.Abruptly.I take a step back to avoid a collision into his chest.
I eye the dermal piercing on his cheek.Shit.
Owen Erickson.
Seeing him is like chugging spoiled milk. I’m just thankful Akara and Thatcher listened to my request. He hasn’t temped for Maximoff since I asked.
Tonight, he’s supposed to be watching over Sulli. Unsuccessfully, since he’s currently wolf-scout-blocking me.
“Move!” I hate having to scream over the fucking music, but the song has heavy bass.
