Page 30 of Alphas Like Us

Farrow coughs in his fist, then unpockets a pack of gum. “Your cousin already likes me better than he likes you, wolfscout.”

I give him a middle finger, and his mouth curves upward. I tell Farrow, “Ben likes everyone. It’s not that big of anaccomplishment.”

Ben flips on his windshield wipers. “I definitely donotlikesomeone.”

“Who?” Farrow and I say while Charlie mutters, “This isnew.”

Ben checks his rearview mirror. “I also don’t like idling in a dead-end…you all mind if I driveout?”

I think he’s worried about being trapped in an alleyway if paparazzi find us. But like Farrow said, Omega is in a Range Rover nearby, probably watching for incoming vehicles. They’d alert Farrow before we’d get blockedin.

“Vas-y,” Charlie says.Goahead.

Ben reverses hiscar.

I extend my arm across the back of the backseat in a death-clutch. Jesus, Ihateriding backseat. In any car, with any driver. I wish being a passenger on a tour bus could’ve cured me of this, but I’m just not thatlucky.

Farrow clicks his mic on his collar. “Omega to Farrow, we’re heading out.” He rests his elbow near my hand, then lays his arm on top of mine, his thumb stroking mybicep.

It takes me back to my car, that moment when we decided to be a couple, in a relationship. Where we had our firstkiss.

I wonder if he’s thinking about that too, or if I’m just sentimental because this is my first relationship, first love, and that was the most meaningful first kiss I’ve ever had in mylife.

Ben switches the automatic gear todriveonce he reaches the main road, and then he aims for an on-ramp to thehighway.

“The Range Rover behind you is Omega,” Farrow tellshim.

“Thanks,” Ben says and fixes his side mirrors with a button. Rain pours harder and pings on theroof.

I really want to know why they’re both upset. “Who do you not like?” I ask. “Did they dosomething?”

Winona munches on a handful ofcrackers.

I give her alook.

“I’m a nervous eater,” she mumbles, crumbs everywhere. “And you’re not going to like what we have to tellyou.”

Ben merges onto the highway. “It’s yourbrother.”

Xander.

“What?” Charlie and I say in unison. My face contorts in confusion, and my pulse thumps in myears.

“I did something,” Ben mutters, guilt in his voice. My muscles bind. He’s the kind of person who’d blame himself for accidentally stepping on an anthill. So it’s hard to gauge theseriousness.

Ben flicks his blinker but struggles to switch lanes and concentrate on thisconversation.

I look out the rear windshield. “You can go,Ben.”

He tentatively scoots the car to the left lane and then accelerates to about seventy-five, the traffic sparse at midnight. His finger keeps tapping thewheel.

“I don’t understand,” I say to Ben. “I know you and my brother had a falling out, but I thought you still likedhim.”

“Something’s changed,” Ben replies. “But it’s my fault. It’s really all my fault.” I don’t know what to take fromthat.

Suddenly, Farrow drops his arm from me to press his earpiece, trying to listen. The rain slams down, and I check over my shoulder. A few incoming cars surround us when they have the wholehighway.

Farrow almost rolls his eyes before swiveling the knob on hisradio.