Page 32 of Lovers Like Us

FARROW KEENE

“Price to security team,everyone stay out of the study,” the Alpha lead orders through comms, the lake house abruptly packed with all three famous families. While Maximoff is outside with his parents and uncles, I hit the basementgym.

Four bodyguards from Security Force Alpha are working out, all of which I ignore. Because I hate side-eyes just as much as I hate cliques. And they’re side-eyeing the fuck out of me since I broke their golden rule about sleeping with aclient.

Akara is the only one from Omega here, and while I do my twentieth pull-up, sweat suctioning my black shirt to my abs, he kicks a boxing bag in quickspurts.

“What’s happenin’ in the study?” Donnelly asks throughcomms.

Price’s voice booms in my earpiece. “Jane and her mom aretalking.”

On the weight bench, an older bodyguard says, “I heard themcrying.” And then he side-eyes meagain.

I make eye contact, and he diverts his gaze and grumbles something under his breath.That’s what I thought.I grit down and lift my chin above the bar, anklescrossed.

Akara kicks the bag hard. “I looked at the Instagram account you sentme.”

I drop and take off my hand wraps. See, typically I wouldn’t even bring this to a lead of any Force, but the @maximoffdeadhale account is still active, and the user posted another photoshopped picture about a half hourago.

This time, Maximoff is falling off the side of amountain.

Akara wipes sweat off his brow with his bicep. “It’s a trollaccount.”

“That’s what I thought.” I pop the cap off my water bottle. “But no tabloid has run a story about the Hales heading to their mountain lake house, so why would the user post a picture where he’s falling off the side ofone?”

Akara snaps his finger to his palm. “Coincidence.”

“There’s a chance the user could know Maximoff personally.” I swig my water, and my gaze narrows as Akara gives me a pitying look.“It has nothingto do with him being my boyfriend. I’m still his bodyguard, and as his bodyguard, this shit isn’t flying withme.”

Akara picks up his towel. “I’ll send in a request for our tech team to trace the IP address. Until then, don’t check that account.” His voice is strict. “That’s not friendly advice; that’s anorder.”

I roll my eyes. “Aye aye, captain.” My phone rings in the pocket of my track pants. Caller ID: Kinney Hale. Maximoff’s thirteen-year-old sister almost never calls me. I answer, “Hey?”

“We need you now. Don’t tell anyone. Hall bathroom near the kitchen. Be fast or die.” She hangsup.

* * *

Ikickthe bathroom door closed, and Kinney bombards me, green eyes shadowed in heavy black liner, dressed in knee-high socks, a black skirt and top, and a choker necklace. She puffs out her chest, but her bony build makes her appear comicallytiny.

“We have problems,” shesnaps.

I raise my brows. “Noshit.”

“Realproblems, you turd.” She crosses her lanky arms. “You need to drive ussomewhere.”

“No,” I say and unpeel a piece of gum. Stepping past Kinney, I discover the “we”here.

By the toilet, Luna runs in place and then shimmies her arms and hips. I’m positive she’s dancing to no music, and if I should question the weirdness in that act, Idon’t.

Kinney confronts me head-on. “We’re your boyfriend’ssiblings.”

I pop my gum and notice Xander lounging in a claw-foottub.

He pulls his bulky red headphones to the collar of hisWinter is Comingshirt. “Save your breath, Kinney. He doesn’t give adamn—”

“Wow.” I slowly chew. “You really believe I don’t care when I’m here, entertaining a fragmented phone call that said absolutelynothing.”

He slumps further down the tub and lifts his headphones to his ears. “I think you’d rather bang mybrother.”