Page 43 of Alphas Like Us

I frown, a little hurt. “Tu m'as appelé en dernier?”You called melast?

Jane takes an audible breath, upset that I think that. “Not because I wanted to. Your mom said I should give you some time alone with yourone true pairingbefore Icall.”

Farrow is laughing at my mom’swordage.

My neckheats.

Jesus. My mom loving us together plays too damn well into Farrow’s hand, and I lose every round when we go head-to-head.

“My mom needs to take it easy,” I tellJane.

“Never. Aunt Lily loveslove.”

“She canlovemy love ten billion times less in front of my boyfriend. That’d be perfect.” I can almost feel Jane smiling on the other end. And I can also feel it fade in thequiet.

“Moffy, please tell me how you are,” she whispers and when I don’t answer right away, she adds, “I hate that I’m not there yet.” In the background, I catch Thatcher saying that he’ll take a back route. He must bedriving.

I rake my hair with my left hand, which tugs the IV tubes. “I’m still waiting for the surgeon to check the X-Rays.”

“You needsurgery?”

“I’m notsure—”

“He needs surgery,” Farrow cuts in with that matter-of-fact voice, husky but soothing. Gravel tied insilk.

I watch him open the lid to the tin and inspect a chocolate. I tell him, “There’s azeropercent chance you know that just bylooking.”

He unwraps a truffle, and I hone in on how his fingers peel the red foil. Christ. I need to stop being in love with how hemoves.

Farrow is smiling a self-satisfied smile.Beyondhuman comprehension. “There’s a hundredpercent chance I know you fractured your clavicle, wolf scout.” He pops the chocolate in hismouth.

I make a face. “Why do you have to call it aclavicle?”

He chews slowly, brows rising. “Because that’s what it’scalled.”

“It’s called a fuckingcollarbone.”

“Man, it’s the same exact thing, but only one pisses you off, so I chose that one.” His smile stretches as irritation scrunches myface.

Concern encases Jane’s voice as she asks, “Is he in pain,Farrow?”

“So much,” I answer sarcastically. “Save me,Janie.”

“I wasn’t asking you,” Jane says, very serious. “Farrow? How is he?” She’s really worried about me, and I feel badly forteasing.

Farrow unwraps another truffle and instead of sweeping my body for signs of pain, he just holds my gaze. “Maximoff is stubborn. Not a newmalady.”

I give him a look. “Ifstubbornnessis a sickness, then you suffer from ittoo.”

His brows spike. “Never said I didn’t, and that’s cute that you want me to share yoursickness.”

Don’t smile.“I didn’t saythat.”

“Sure.” Keeping his mouth closed, his lips rise as he chews anotherchocolate.

I am in pain, but he’s making me forget what hurts. A perk to having a brain that pretty much cums over his merepresence.

I raise my phone to my mouth. “Jane,” I say. “I didn’t put you on speakerphone so you’d be more worried. I’malright.”