Tangled Like Us (Like Us 4)

Banks motions his hand to my chest. “And I told you that was a bad call.”

I narrow my gaze. “You don’t even like making one fucking call, and you wanna tell me that one was bad?”

Banks prefers not being in charge, but briefly, he’d been a lead right after I stepped down. And when he relinquished the role, he was so fucking happy he kissed the pavement in Studio 9’s parking lot.

“Just because I don’t like making them doesn’t mean I can’t see a bad one from a good one.” Banks points toward the door to Jane’s townhouse. “You set course for trouble the second you joined her detail.” He tosses and catches the wrench. “Probably even before that.”

I give him a hard look. “Don’t go there.”

I never thought of her as more than the oldest Cobalt daughter: a quick-witted girl with a big heart. Who was constantly berated by fuckbags in public. Who should be kept safe and shielded from that hatred.

Being her bodyguard strengthened a feeling of duty that existed, I’ll give my brother that, but I wasn’t thinking about breaking Jane’s knees apart and sinking my cock into her—because that’d be fucking wrong.

Unprofessional.

I only mentally booked a room for hell around the time we shared tight space on a tour bus. And she was admittedly sexually frustrated.

I was sexually fucking frustrated, and we kept looking at each other. I wouldn’t cross that line to help her.

I couldn’t. I couldn’t.

I still can’t.

Banks pats the torque wrench in his palm, thinking, and then he nods his chin to me. “Remember that time when you wanted to put three full-time bodyguards on her after the chokehold incident?”

My muscles tense.

Yeah.

I wasn’t her bodyguard. But I was in charge of the team back then.

Banks leans against the Beetle’s tire. “You care beyond your duty.”

He always says that when he brings up Jane.

You care beyond your duty.

One other phrase rings shrilly in the pit of my ear: the chokehold incident. Lines crease my forehead, eyes searing.

Some entitled piece of shit thought Jane was into BDSM, and he tried to choke her when they were hooking up at the townhouse. Her bodyguard had to break down the door and pry the guy off Jane. He followed protocol, but knowing that happened to her…

I hate men who take advantage of these girls. Who try to screw with Jane. And I fucking hate when she’s hurt.

I needed to protect her. It always feels bigger than a job, but that was my job too.

“I was a lead,” I tell my brother.

“So was Akara.” Banks lifts one shoulder. “But he didn’t vote to put three full-time bodyguards on her detail.” Neither did Price, the Alpha lead.

She ended up just keeping one 24/7 bodyguard on-duty. After that happened to her, I took time to ensure she was protected.

I thought it was because I was a lead. But Banks believed differently.

I just nod a couple times, and I scrutinize my brother for a second.

He shaved closer this morning, making his jawline appear narrower. Which makes me look about two years older than him, but only six-minutes separate us in reality. Growing up, he’d tell our dad I was the “older brother” to shirk responsibility.

I didn’t care that it wound up on me.

I am six-minutes older, but I’m constantly turning to him for advice.

My phone pings, and I read a text.

Do not rush if you’re preoccupied, but I have an announcement that you should hear. You can find me in my bathroom. – Jane

It can’t be an emergency if she’s saying not to hurry. But I’m still on guard.

“Jane?” Banks guesses off my expression.

“I need to head over there.” I read the text out to him.

The corner of his lip hikes up like I read a portion of her diary. “In her bathroom? First a kiss, then a—”

“We have boundaries set,” I cut him off, pocketing my phone. “This is just to protect her.”

“But you like her,” Banks says.

“Doesn’t matter.” I have to follow the hierarchy. Breaking the rules will rip a bullet through security and plunge all of Omega headfirst in boiling water with Alpha and Epsilon.

Banks nods and starts to crawl back underneath the car. “Gomesegiam’…you’re in over your head?” How do you say…you’re in over your head?

I exhale through my nose. “Fuck.”

16

THATCHER MORETTI

I’m in Jane’s bathroom, and she isn’t the only one here.

“Just a fair warning: if you fuck with Jane during this fake-dating stunt, I won’t come for you,” Maximoff says firmly, spearing a territorial glare into me. “Because I’ll go after your brother instead, and I’ll break both of his kneecaps and stake his head on a fucking pitchfork.”

Gut reaction, I almost glare.

I’d die for Banks, no hesitation; the idea of living without him is eviscerating—but I get Maximoff’s protectiveness of Jane. Fully.

“He’s being hyperbolic,” Jane says to me, her eyes widened. Cautious. Like all four of us are on the edge of a cliff together.

I steal another brief glance at her. She’s in a purple bathrobe, hair twisted in a nest, and zit cream dotted on her chin and forehead.

Her ability to be comfortable in her own skin—it’s gorgeous. Flat-out, and for once, I allow myself to think it without reprimand.

“Pretty sure I’m being honest,” Maximoff says, pulling my attention back. He never shifts his intense green eyes off me. A straight razor is in his hand. He was shaving short stubble on his jaw.

The second that I ducked beneath the doorway and straightened up—only a foot inside the bathroom—Jane, Maximoff, and Farrow rotated towards me. And Maximoff got the first word out.

Sorry—the first threat out, and I don’t blame him. Hell, I’ve been waiting for something like this from Maximoff. Being around the Hale family for a long time, I’ve heard their sharp-tongued threats. His dad is more brutal, but on some deep level, I know Maximoff is just as serious right now.

I open my mouth to reply.

He cuts back in, “And by fuck with her , I mean hurting her even a fraction of an inch.”

I nod, just as serious. “Understood.”

Because I’m complete shit at showing emotion, I force myself to add more. Just in case it’s not clear.

I look him in the eyes. “I’ll never hurt Jane. I wouldn’t.”

Jane steeples her fingertips to her lips. Eyes darting back and forth to everyone. Even to Farrow who leans casually on the shower door and smiles while chewing gum. I can’t tell if he’s entertained by his fiancé or just by me getting threatened.

“Glad we have that covered,” Maximoff says strongly. “Especially since you kissed her already.”

The air deadens.

I’m motionless.

Can’t be surprised she told them. Not when I already told Banks.

“Yeah,” I say out loud. “I kissed Jane.” I’m assured that this is where I need to be, and I’m not someone who fucking cowers. But there are plenty of times I wish I would’ve taken a step back rather than barrel forward and rip myself up in barbed wire.

But this isn’t even close to a regret.

Maximoff thinks hard for a second, and more silence weighs the room down.

“For practice,” Jane reminds them.

Farrow pops a bubble in his mouth. “Is that what Cobalts call it?”

Jane knots her robe tighter. “We call everything what it should be. An orange is an orange. Your eyes are brown, and a practice kiss is simply a practice kiss.”

I sweep her with more concern.

She’s getting stressed, and they should be able to tell as much as I can. I’ve never seen Maximoff or Farrow actively be a roadblock in her life. Only support. And even now, they quickly back off.

“Fair enough,” F

arrow says easily.

Worry infiltrates her big blue eyes, and she looks between Maximoff and Farrow. “You’re both supposed to help us with fake dating, not be a wedge—”

“I’m not wedging ,” Maximoff interjects, hurt in his voice at the idea of putting any distance between her and him. “I’m just letting Thatcher know that we know that he knows what’s happening here.”

I’m not sure what he’s talking about other than the fact that they know I kissed Jane…and that I can’t cross a boundary.

Farrow puts in his obsidian spear earring. “That could’ve used ten times more clarity, but D-minus for the effort.”

Maximoff grimaces. “It’s called A for effort.”