Page 151 of Lovers Like Us

“Is that the name of a bodyguard?!” someoneshouts.

“It’s a noun,” Beckett says with awhat-the-fuckface.

Jack speaks to the boy. “There are no ships with bodyguards. Next non-bodyguard related question.” He motions for the assistant to pass the mic to the next inline.

“But-but.” The boy white-knuckle grips the microphone. “What about Sullivan and Quinn? Quinnivan is a real thing, right? Or Maximoff and Donnelly?Maxelly?”

I choke on mygum.

Oscar pats my back, and I cough hoarsely into a fist. That one isn’t funny. I’m not shipping him with anyone butme.

Maximoff is laughing hard, and he lifts his mic. “Cute,” he tells theboy.

The boy looks infatuated. “Thanks…I love you.” In his daze, the assistant pries the mic out of his hands, and a line coordinator ushers him to hisseat.

Maximoff steals a glance at me, his lipsupturned.

I smilemore.

No one calls out Maximoff and me as a potential pairing, but we haven’t discussed what would happen if they did. SFO is already on unsteady grounds, and if we make a major mistake on tour, we’ll all lose our jobs. There’s no need to rock thatboat.

36

MAXIMOFF HALE

We’rein the middle of nowhere Kansas, and Farrow refuses to come to bed. Lawyers sent him another zip file of NDAs, and he’s still searching. Still not getting any sleep.It will end, I remindmyself.

I’m not going to hound him. So I let him work, and I crawl into my bunk and shut the privacycurtain.

There’s only one person I want to talk to at midnight on a Saturday. And yeah, I know it’s late in Philly. But I’m pretty sure he’ll be awake. I’m just hoping heanswers.

He does on the thirdring.

FaceTime connects, and my fifteen-year-old brother fills the screen. His straight brown hair is longer, hiding his ears, and pieces fall over his forehead. Bulky red headphones around his neck, he rests his head on a pillow. He’s in bed but stillawake.

“You’d probably get better sleep if you didn’t nap all day,” I tellhim.

Xander adjusts a pillow against the headboard, sitting up, more comfortable. “Are you learning medical shit from your boyfriendnow?”

“That’s just big brother advice,” I sayeasily.

Xander tucks some of his hair behind his ear. “I’m glad you called.” He flips the camera, his door gone. “Please tell Kinney’s girl squad to stop putting crap in my room.” He zooms in on a BMX bike and rock climbing gear. “Vada thinks I’ll go dirt biking with her. I won’t. Winona thinks I’ll actually climb a goddamn mountain. She’scrazy.”

Everyone’s been worried about him. “I’ll pass the word,” I say. “How’ve you been?” Our parents made him add an extra day of therapy to hisschedule.

Xander flips the camera, relaxed against a mound of pillows. “Alright.” He shrugs. “Not as…I don’t know.” He chews his bottom lip, then shrugs again. “Anxious, I guess. I’m not about to do anything, you know.” He rolls his eyes at himself, then sighs. He’s been suicidal before, more so when he wasyounger.

“That’s good, Summers. I’m proud ofyou.”

He drops his gaze. “Forwhat?”

“Waking up this morning,” I sayseriously.

“Yay me.” His sarcasm clear. “I’m full ofaccomplishments.”

“Hey, that’s fucking big.” I watch his chest rise in a deeper breath, and then the camera careens abit.

He leans over to a nightstand and grabs aSprite.