Page 145 of Alphas Like Us

He leaves, and as soon as I’m downstairs with Maximoff, in the empty Superheroes & Scones store, we wrap our arms around each other. Chest against chest, my pulse beats with his, and I hold the back of hishead.

I breathe in his chlorine and citrus scent. He probably shouldn’t have been swimming with his injury. But smellingsummeron Maximoff makes mesmile.

It grounds me to the here andnow.

25

MAXIMOFF HALE

“What are the antibiotics for strep?”I quiz my boyfriend. Printed flashcards fill my hand and scatter the coffee table inside the loft of Superheroes & Scones. Three-day-old red velvet cake from Jane’s birthday lies next to more study materials and energydrinks.

It’s afterhours in the comics shop. Empty. The only real time I can enjoy one of my favorite places onEarth.

Farrow slouches on a yellow beanbag, his muscular legs splayed over my lap, and I reach for my mug of tea. Sitting straighter thanhim.

He flips a page in a comic book on his lap and answers, “Ampicillin, amoxicillin, andPCN.”

Yeah, I have no clue if that’s correct. Not until I flip the card over and read the answer on theback.

Farrow is grinning at the comic. “You don’t have to tell me it’s right, wolf scout. I know it is.” His eyes finally flit to me. “Keepgoing.”

He has a USMLE Step 3 exam tomorrow.Tomorrow. He said it’s the test he has to pass to get licensed. And he hasn’t studied a single minute forit.

So when I heard that, I printed out a tower of flash cards and bought practice materials. Here we are. Only now I’m starting to think he agreed to this study session just out of pureamusement.

That know-it-all smile stretches his face, and he raises his brows. Like he’s waiting. But he’s also skimming a comic book. He grabbed one from the storedownstairs.

I set my tea down and read off a notecard. “What is the most common cardiac manifestation of Lymedisease?”

“An AV conduction block or defect,” he says casually. “Why does this girl talk to…wait, are those demons?” He frowns and rotates the comic to check the front cover. Like he’s ensuring he grabbed an issue ofX-Men.

He did, and I don’t need to see the panel. “That’s Magik. She’s the sorceress supreme ofLimbo.”

His eyes meet mine, and he almost laughs. “Fuck, I’m just remembering how big of a dork youare.”

I’d shove his legs off me, but for some damn reason, I love them across my lap. So I end up giving him a middle fingerinstead.

Farrow only smiles more and flips a page in the comic. “Let’s go, wolf scout, show me how great you are at quizzingme.”

I meant to give him something, and this is a better time than never. I straighten the deck of flashcards and put them down. I capture more of his attention when I reach for my backpack with my goodarm.

I already stressed the fuck out of my shoulder muscle earlier today. I tried to lift a stack of medical texts (study prep material), and now my collarbone thumps like stereo bass is blasting inside thebone.

Anyway, I’m not as concerned about my injury. Not lately. I’m more worried about Farrow after the rooftop. I’ve seen him hyper-vigilant before but never unresponsive and spaced out, and I knew it wasserious.

We talked about it for a long time the past few days. Inside our steaming bathroom after a shower, he was towel-drying his bleach-white hair, the roots recently dyed, and I was brushing my teeth at the sink. And he called them intrusivememories.

“It’s happened before,” Farrow said. “When I was five andsix.”

I spit in the sink and rinsed my mouth a couple times, the mirror fogged. So I looked over my shoulder multiple times, but he was relaxed, tying his towel around his waist. I listened carefully tohim.

And he explained, “After my mom died, I only had one memory ofher.”

I remembered. “You heard her calling your name.” I put my toothbrush in the mirror’s cabinet, and then I turned around, my gray towel tied on my waist too. And I neared my boyfriend and scraped my wet hair back with myfingers.

Farrow nodded, looking me over with a small smile. He leaned a shoulder on the misted shower door and reached out for myhand.

I drew closer before I grabbed hold. Our pulses slowing in the fucking heat, and there was comfort passing between us. Some kind of solace in the steam, and he looked at ease. I know, I know—Farrow Keene is always at ease, but more so than he has been in recentdays.