Page 31 of Headstrong Like Us

Charlie Cobalt.

I’m not feeling very kind or warm towards Maximoff’s twenty-one-year-old cousin. Not after Scotland. He sandpapered my patience.

Putting up with Charlie constantly attacking Maximoff—and not being able to intervene—has already been a root canal for me. What he did in Scotland to Maximoff and to Jane and Thatcher was too fucking far.

They deserve apologies, but they forgave him without one. The last thing I want is to re-fracture the relationship between Charlie and Maximoff. But I can’t spend the rest of my life standing idly by and watching Charlie beat Maximoff down. Just for Maximoff to sit there and take it.

I’m going to protect him. Even if it means protecting him from his cousin.

I comb a hand through my hair. “Bad or good news?”

“He’s sending me links to apartment rentals in New York.” Maximoff clicks into one. “Four bedroom, four bath, community pool.” He pauses. “He texted,please come.”

I scan his toughened features. “You’re thinking about New York?” He’s been in the Team Philly camp with Sulli and Jane. The only one waving an NYC flag is Luna.

“Maybe…I don’t know.” He rubs his cinched brows. “What if Charlie does actually need help looking after his brothers? And I’ve just left him out to dry.”

My jaw tics. “Look, I don’t care where we end up, but the likelihood of Charlie disappearing if you move to New York is high. Especially if he’s guilt-tripping you this hard. When has he everpledfor you to be around him?”

“Never.” He exhales a heavier breath. “It’s been the inverse.” He’s pushed Maximoff away.

Jane even believes Charlie could want to use her and Maximoff as babysitters for Beckett, Eliot, and Tom. He’d be shirking responsibility onto them, just so he can travel the world with no burden.

It’s impossible for Maximoff to saynowhen someone needs help, and he loves gathering all the responsibility. So I understand why this is eating at him, but Charlie needs to stop blowing up his phone. It’s manipulative as fuck.

He shoves his phone in his pocket. “Even if I saidyesto New York, we all agreed that the majority vote wins.”

But Charlie knows that if Maximoff decides on NYC, all the girls will want to follow. He’s basically the leader of these families.

We drop the topic, and as we go to leave, I spot the swarms of paparazzi through the glass door. Maximoff prefers that we walk side-by-side, but I’d rather be out in front. “Compromise: how about I lead us out of here, and you can drive.”

I toss him the keys.

“The motorcycle?”

I nod. “Yeah, I’ll sit behind you.”Where he loves me.I fit on my helmet to block out camera flashes, and he’s already doing the same.

“Deal.”

6

FARROW KEENE

Maximoff slowsthe Yamaha in deadlocked traffic.Shit.I lower my feet to stretch, and I hang onto the back of the seat. Craning my neck, I try to see past an SUV.Looks really backed up.

I lean forward again, my gloved hand on his waist. He turns his head back, careful not to smash helmet-to-helmet. With Bluetooth intercoms built into the helmets, we don’t have to yell or flip up our visors to communicate.

“Let’s switch spots,” I tell him. “I’ll lane-split.” It’s illegal for a motorcyclist to drive between two lanes of traffic in Pennsylvania, but I’m willing to risk the law.

“I can do it.” He’s about to turn around, but I catch his bicep, stopping him.

“You haven’t even had your license back for a year yet.” If he’s ticketed, they might revoke it again.

In the past seven months, Maximoff has actually let me behind the wheel about forty-percent of the time. Which is more than I thought he would.

“If I’m pulled over and lose my license, it’s a win for you.”

He’s not wrong.