Page 147 of Charming Like Us

While Farrow does a medical assessment and Maximoff checks on his family, I do a quick sweep of our surroundings. My pulse still at a peak.

Onlookers exist, watching from the clubhouse’s deck, but not many guests are around Hole 3. Besides paparazzi, it’s been vacant since the non-alcoholic bar is posted here.

Maximoff’s concern is replaced quickly by anger. “What the fuck?” he growls at them. “Who was driving? Why were you doing donuts?”

Did not see the troublemakers doing donuts.

Comms blow up in my ear. Epsilon and Omega. I pick apart Akara’s voice. “Akara to Quinn, did you see Luna, Tom, and Eliot steal a golf cart and a case of champagne earlier?”

Quinn isn’t responding.

“Hey.” I nudge his arm. “Akara just radioed you, little bro.”

Quinn rolls his eyes at me, then clicks his mic. “Yeah.”

I hate narking on a client, but my brother should’ve called that one in. Akara wouldn’t have ratted them out to the parents. They’re all adults.

And at least we’d all know they were drinking and taking a joy-ride.

Quinn glares at me. “What?”

I’m disappointed in him, and I can’t hide that from my face.

“Oh—fuck,” Eliot curses, causing us to look back. His gaze is latched to the clubhouse’s deck where their parents are descending in a fury.

“Is that Mom?” Tom squints and holds a hand above his eyes.

“Brother, see you in the afterlife,” Eliot says. He taps knuckles with Tom, but they don’t leave Luna. They stay while Farrow speaks softly to her and helps her to her feet.

She needs X-rays.

“Can you talk to Dad?” Luna pleads with a pained wince to Maximoff.

He caves. “Yeah.”

“Akara to Quinn, why am I just now hearing about your client on a golf cart when it’s already flipped?”

Quinn clicks his mic. “It wasn’t important.”

The line dies, and I can feel Akara halfway across the golf course cursing the night sky with frustration and anger. Our mistakes are his mistakes.

My brother drops his mic cord. “What?” he growls at me again.

“I didn’t say anything.” I catch the sight of Jack—my Jack—running towards us, a heavy Steadicam strapped to his chest.

I read his lips from a distance. He mouths,are you okay?

His concern shouldn’t surprise me. Hell, his appearance shouldn’t either, but both do. Probably because I just thought…he’s filming.

He’s working. How is he making time for me? Especially when my ass struggles to make more for him.

My chest rises, longing for Highland to keep his pace towards me. And I nod to him.I’m okay.But I could use a Jack Highland hug.

A kiss. Three kisses. Endless amounts.

Fuck, I’m greedy.

“You didn’t have to say anything, Oscar—you had that look,” Quinn snaps.