Page 110 of Lovers Like Us

I need to look up, and the moment my eyes hit his eyes, he’s full-on smiling that know-it-all smile. His barbell lifts with his brows. He definitely caught me checking himout.

I scribble a giantzeroon my piece of paper and flash it tohim.

He rolls his eyes, his smile out of this fuckingworld.

Jane narrates, “At twenty-seven, he’s the second oldest bodyguard in Omega. A maverick and an Aries, Farrow can make a delicious egg and baconsandwich.”

Beckett gives Jane awhat-the-fuckface.

Jane shoos her brother. “He’s the most medically savvy and also professionally MMA-trained. Farrow,” she says as he stops and takes a candy cane from Donnelly, “who is your favoritecelebrity?”

He speaks into the candy cane. “Everyone but MaximoffHale.”

God, I’m smile-grimacing. There’s something seriously wrong withme.

“Boo,” Sullisays.

“That’s two zeroes,” I tellFarrow.

His lips quirk. “I think you mean twoperfect tens.” He sits at the booth, and his tattooed fingers push his white hair out of his eyelashes, too sensually.Fuckme.

“No.” I lick my lips. “I meantzeropluszero.Which equals a load ofnothing.”

“And look at that,” he smiles wide, “your honesty merit badge isgone.”

I’d react somewhat differently than cringing, but my head and stomach feel weird. Like dizzy? I don’t know yet. I tear my gaze off his, but I sense him studying myfeatures.

“Oscar Oliveira,” Janeannounces.

He emerges in red silk boxers, and he baby-oiled his golden-brown skin, his abs shiny and moredefined.

“Cheater,” Donnellyboos.

Oscar struts down the hall. “You were never going to win,Donnelly.”

I sip my eggnog. I can’t tell if the taste is off or not. Did I give Sulli the right mug? I did…I’m not drinking alcohol.I’mnot.

Right?

“…a thirty-year-old Taurus,” Jane narrates, “and Yale graduate, this former pro-boxer likes snack breaks and not very much surprises him. Nothing catches this man off-guard.”

Oscar halts and flexes abicep.

“Oscar,” Jane says, “if you were a candy bar, what candy bar would yoube?”

“Snickers. You’re not yourself withoutme.”

Laughter, and Donnelly drums the table. I stare at my mug, fixed on the creamy liquid.I drank alcoholblares in my head on highalert.

A lump lodges in my drythroat.

“Maximoff.”

“What?” My head swerves—Farrow isrightnext to me. On the couch. Jesus Christ. I didn’t even see him walk over here. It’s not like he had far to go but…I’m fixating on stupid things. Avoiding my reality.I drankalcohol.

I gorigid.

“What’s wrong?” hewhispers.