Page 87 of Lovers Like Us

“I’m beingserious.”

Farrow shrugs. “It’s not like you and Jane. You two arebestfriends. See, what I have is a group of guys that I sometimes get along with. Sometimes I don’t. Sometimes we hang out. Sometimes we don’t.” He smiles off my confusion. “It’s not that complicated, wolf scout. That’s how I likeit.”

* * *

AbulbedChicagosign backlights the small hotel bar and array of liquor bottles. But no bartender mans the counter. Blue and red Chicago Cubs posters decorate wooden walls, and all the rustic high-top tables are vacant exceptone.

The five bodyguards instantly spot us—and their talk pretty much vanishes. I’m aware that Thatcher, Akara, Oscar, Quinn and Donnelly are eyeing me, notFarrow.

Jesus.

I’m starting to think I’ve been cursed with a superpower that causes verbalparalysis.

“Hey,” I say confidently, and most of them reply, “Hey,man.”

Akara slides another wooden stool next to the only unoccupied one. I figured they had no clue I’d be joining Farrow. So I’m not as shocked as theyare.

“Look who showed up,” Oscar says toFarrow.

“Not for you,Oliveira.”

Oscar cracks a smile, and Farrow and I take a seat on the two open stools. He rubs my thigh, almost to say,don’toverthink.

Good idea. I hadn’t thought of that onebefore.

My palm brushes his hand, and I end up resting an elbow on the circular table. My attempt atnotsitting like I’m about to run an IronmanTriathlon.

Battery candles, dice, nuts, liquor bottles and whiskey glasses scatter the woodensurface.

Donnelly doles out three dice to everyone, a cigarette burning between his fingers. “Maximoff would know…” he trails off at a no-nonsense look fromAkara.

Oscar mimes slicing his neck. I’m guessing he’s saying,don’t go there.But I can’t besure.

“Talk about something else,” Thatcher says, voicestern.

I’m guessing they’re censoring themselves around me. I’ve been with bodyguards off-duty plenty of times before—like the Hallow Friends Eve and even just on the tour bus—but they try not to dig for secrets and they dodge certain topics about myfamily.

Farrow splays his earpiece wire over his shoulder. “Which one of you fuckers scared the bartenderoff?”

“Bar and kitchen closed five minutes ago,” Akara says while texting and then he pockets hisphone.

Quinn swishes a bottle of Jack Daniels. “Bought it before the bartenderleft.”

I’m still super-glued to theMaximoff would knowcomment. “Donnelly,” I say, all eyes on me. “You can ask me. It’s alright if it’s about my family.” I already know how the world perceives the Hales, Meadows and Cobalts, and security can’t view us worse than strangers who are fed tabloidlies.

Donnelly blows smoke into the air, and the bodyguards exchange cagey glances that I can’t fucking read. They must come to a verdict because he speaks and no one stops him. “Heard about Eliot and been discussing whether it’s real or rumor. Figured you’dknow.”

I know about that incident thanks to a hundred texts at midnight, and Luna, Eliot, and Tom FaceTimed me together. “What’d you guyshear?”

Oscar cracks a peanut and pops it in his mouth. “I heard he got a weeksuspension.”

“For messing with some guy’s Porsche,” Quinn chimes in and pours whiskey in an emptyglass.

Donnelly sticks his cigarette in his mouth and mumbles, “If someone fucked with my Porsche, I’d have him by thenuts.”

Farrow chews his gum with a growing smile. “You know we’ve left reality when Donnelly thinks he has aPorsche.”

Everyone laughs, including me, and the mood lightens, Omega starting to relax aroundme.