Once that dies down, I ask, “How’s the new apartments?”
Akara rented out new places for SFO. Oscar has his own studio in New York. Donnelly, Quinn, Banks, and Akara live in a two-bedroom flat in Philly. And Thatcher is still rooming with Jane back at the Cobalt Estate.
“Fucking amazing,” Oscar says. “I already sent Kitsuwon a gift basket.”
“Literally?” I ask.
“Yeah, but I might have eaten all the cookies out of it. He didn’t notice.”
Donnelly and I laugh, and our laughter suddenly submerges under loud, causticshrieks.
“Fiancé’s here,” Oscar says.
My mouth curves upward, and soon, a force of nature enters like he’s Atlas bracing a world on his shoulders.
And when his eyes meet mine, his muscles begin to loosen. His chest rises in a breath that I can almost feel expand my lungs.
I smile more. “Look what the wind threw up.”
His eyes redden. He remembers saying that to me. Years ago in this store. The first day I became his bodyguard.
Maximoff clears a ball in his throat. “I could’veswornI heard that before from someone way hotter and smarter.”
“Sounds like your fan fiction.” I lean back against the window. “Need help jogging your memory?”
“No,” he says with firm confidence.
Damn.
I give him a once-over, and he’s about to come over but our attention veers to Banks. The six-foot-seven bodyguard edges back to the door he just locked.
“Moretti, you’re not staying?” I ask.
Maximoff frowns, not knowing this either.
“Can’t.” Banks sticks a toothpick in his mouth. “Akara wants me to pick up Sulli and drive her here. Between Maximoff and her, I’m getting used to the smell of chlorine.”
“You can grab a plate before you go,” Maximoff says.
Banks wavers. “I gotta push out.” He nods to me. “Happy birthday, man.”
I nod back in thanks, and after he leaves, I draw back my legs and Maximoff takes a seat beside me. His hair is damp and gray tee molds his abs.
I crunch up to him and clasp his jaw, his skin smooth from a close shave.
We kiss, and I break from his lips to nod towards the buffet trays. “We need to go over the definition oflow-key.”
He smiles. “You like it?”
My eyes caress his eyes before I lean to the side, my jaw brushing against his jaw. And I whisper against his ear, “Love it.” I kiss him again. Emotion blisters my lungs.
I’m about to lean back, but Maximoff fists my black V-neck. “Wait, man.” His voice is a low whisper.
My legs are tented over his lap. I search his strong gaze for worry or fear or any fucking thing, but he’s not that readable right now. “You okay, Maximoff?”
“Yeah.” He rests his forearm on my kneecaps and whispers, “Did you ask them?” He must’ve expected to walk into abest mancelebration. He already asked Jane yesterday to be his best woman. There were tears and hugs and lots ofFrench. He wasted zero time, and clearly, I’m dragging my feet on this.
Oscar and Donnelly are chatting about the best bachelor party locations. So they’re definitely not eavesdropping.