Headstrong Like Us (Like Us 6)

Human.

Maximoff stands up, our hands breaking apart. He’s brick-walled. I rise to my feet, and I follow him down the spiraled staircase to the first floor. No one in the loft is speaking, so I hear the TV clearly behind us.

“You’re not a selfish bastard, Lo.”

Maximoff has a powerful stride, but I’m step-for-step with him. We reach the bar counter, buffet trays half-emptied and lids crooked on the bacon and eggs.

“You want to talk about it?” I perch a knee on a stool while he goes behind the counter and pours a glass of orange juice.

He takes a strong swing before setting the glass down. And then he asks, “Is there something wrong with me?”

It almost pummels me back. “I don’t follow.”

Maximoff stares up at the ceiling, and I see his dad in him. But he’s not glaring like he’s in emotional turmoil. He carries this raw strength that says, I can survive anything.

His eyes meet mine. “Should I be angry at my dad? Because I’m not even close to anger. I just keep thinking about how I want to tell him, it’s okay. You’re right, I have Farrow, and there are two of us if the world caves in.”

I slide my hand over his on the counter. “Nothing’s wrong with you. You sound like a guy who has a great dad, and you love him.” I pause though, our eyes not detaching. I run my tongue over my lip piercing in the silence.

His brows furrow. “Just say it, Farrow.”

“Your dad is an addict. It makes sense that when he feels less of a responsibility towards his son, it gives him an out to drink.” I straighten up. “I’m just saying that it might not be smart to tell him that we’re able to take care of everything, even if we can.”

Maximoff stares off, contemplating this. “Yeah, maybe.”

I let go of his hand to comb my fingers through my hair. The movement draws his attention back to me, and I tell him, “The docuseries is strange in that we’re able to see parts of your family that normally we wouldn’t even know about. Shit, that footage was months ago.”

“Do you regret signing on to be filmed?” His concern has veered to me.

It’s cute.

“Not for a second,” I say easily.

His lip starts to lift.

“Moffy?”

Our heads turn.

Jane nears him, and more people start descending the twisting staircase. The episode must’ve ended.

“Can we talk?” Jane fiddles with her fingers. “It shouldn’t take too long.” She seems nervous.

“Is everything okay?” Maximoff asks with concern.

“Yes, yes.” She holds up her hands, then spins to me. “Farrow, I need to talk to you as well.” She smiles nervously at me, and that puts Maximoff on edge and lands me on a bigger question mark.

I can’t even crack a guess to what this could be about.

And then she ushers us into a smaller area of Superheroes & Scones for privacy. The daycare. I smile at Maximoff.

He’s eyeing my features.

I lift and lower brows. “Want to have a kid with me, wolf scout?”

He looks like he’s stopped breathing.

I let out a laugh. “Relax, relax.” I hook an arm around his waist. “I’m just fucking with you. We don’t have to talk about babies.”

He’s already admitted to wanting kids, but we haven’t had a deep discussion yet. When it comes to our future together, Maximoff has always been the one with training wheels. I’m ready to blow past every stage just to be all domestic and shit with him.

But I’m lucky he’s comfortable and ready to marry me in three months. I never want to push things too fast. Especially when he likes being in control and is uneasy with monumental change.

“Actually,” Janie says. “That’s what I wanted to speak with you both about. Babies.”

4

MAXIMOFF HALE

Babies.

I scan the room, hanging onto a billion other thoughts than what Jane just said. Bright colors splash all four walls, comic book paneled curtains concealing windows. Pint-sized tables sit on the hardwood, and toy boxes brim with action figures, stuffed Thor hammers, and miniature Captain America shields.

I have a lot of good memories here.

All the days I’d babysit my sisters, brother, and cousins. Janie would read books to our siblings. And I’d sneak out Batman Legos and we’d play for hours.

When my mom expanded this store, she didn’t just add the loft. She added a daycare. So yeah, I’m thinking about that.

My biceps are super-glued to my chest. Arms crossed.

Jane shifts her weight and smooths her blue tulle skirt. “Really, this is more than just about the general topic of babies.” She rambles. “It’s children—specifically, your future children. Between the two of you.”

My joints need oiled because honest to God, my neck creaks when I turn my head to Farrow.

He has a hand over his mouth. I can’t tell if he’s smiling or frowning. He assesses me from head to fucking toe.