I thought they’d look surprised. That I’d smoke anything. But like Farrow, they all seem relieved. Happy that I’m not suffering.
Blue eyes shimmering, Janie tips her beer towards me in cheers. If I didn’t have Farrow, she’d be next to me. Not wrapped up in a blue blanket beneath the window.
But I’m more assured than ever that Janie wouldn’t be able to fill Farrow’s spot in my life. Just like he can’t replace hers.
I need them both.
I want them both.
When Jane finally reached the hospital before my surgery, she broke down. My voice kept cracking, and she couldn’t stop rambling about the mathematical probability of life and death. And how she should’ve been in the car with me.
Tears leaked out of her eyes, and then we agreed that we’d survive this. We can survive anything with a bit of luck and a whole lot of love.
In the quiet but crowded attic, I tell my best friend, “Je suis vivant, ma moitié.” I’m alive, my other half.
She smiles into a sip of beer. “Je ne voudrais pas de toi d’une autre manière.” I wouldn’t want you any other way.
Farrow’s heartbeat thuds in a calm rhythm against my back, and we both see Luna perk up from her sprawled face-planted position.
“Does this mean you’ll get high with me, Moffy?” Luna asks, head propped in her hand.
Ever since the FanCon with the pot cookie debacle, I’m still forever processing the fact that my little sister has smoked weed before. My brows cinch, thinking about a situation where I’d want to be high while she’s high. I’m fine with her smoking if she’s careful, but I want to be coherent in that instance.
“Not a chance, sis,” I say truthfully.
“Not even right now?” Luna taps her nose since I’m out of reach and she can’t tap mine. A gesture we did as kids that kind of means hey brother, hey sister. Then she swings her gangly arm to Donnelly for the blunt.
“Nah.” He finishes the blunt himself. “Four Lokos and weed don’t mix.” He blows smoke off to the side.
“Dammit,” Luna mutters and says to me, “Next time.”
I smile. Feeling how much she wants to stay close to me, and I know letting her move in was the right decision. Now I just have to figure out if letting her do this auction is a decision I’ll regret forever.
Lights off by 2 a.m., everyone has crashed and fallen asleep in my attic bedroom. It’s pretty much what happens when you endure a massive doomsday and stay up late talking.
I can’t sleep.
I was conked out for so long after my surgery. Now my mind is wide-awake and playing mental catch-up: talk to my brother (later). A porn star bought you (Jesus Christ). Protect your brother, protect your sisters, protect everyone (always).
Don’t let Farrow go (I won’t).
Marry him.
Put a ring on it.
What if he’s not into marriage?
What if that’s why he rejected his ex’s proposal?
But we talked about kids. Twice.
Jokingly?
No, it was fucking serious.
I think.
You can have kids without being married.
Don’t name your son Batman.
I squeeze my eyes shut. Alright, my mind can shut the fuck up now.
I think I’m the only one awake until the clock hits 2:30 a.m. And I hear whispering. From the right side of the room.
It’s not Farrow.
He’s dead asleep turned towards me, barely stirring beneath the comforter. I try my best not to wake him. Farrow needs shuteye more than anyone.
His inked arm splays over my lower abs. I didn’t realize how badly I’d want to lie on my side until tonight.
I crave to just turn into his hard chest.
But here I am, stuck on my back. If anything, it makes me want to speed through physical therapy that much faster.
“You can’t go on Sunday anymore?” Sulli mutters more loudly than she realizes. As much as I wished for bionic hearing as a kid, I don’t have that superpower.
I strain my ears to catch the reply.
“Sorry,” Jack whispers, sounding really apologetic.
My mind swerves onto one track: Jack Highland is awake while my little cousin is awake and everyone else is asleep.
I have no clue what that means. So I prop myself on my usable elbow and peer over Farrow to see…
My brows scrunch. Akara is awake too. Both guys lounge on the same air mattress, leaning on the brick wall. Right in between them, Sullivan slumps on a donut-shaped pillow and twists her frayed string anklet.
“Oh hey, you don’t need to fucking apologize,” my cousin whispers not as softly. “It’s alright.” Even in the dark attic, she looks noticeably bummed.
“Rain check?” Jack whispers. “I should be free next Sunday. We can go swimming then.”
“Yeah,” she nods, scooting up more against the wall. “That’d work.”
Akara is playing with her chocolate brown hair, and he coils a long strand over his upper lip in a fake mustache.
Sulli cracks a smile and shoves his chest.
I used to overthink their dynamic because in my personal experience with Farrow, teasing equals affection. But that can’t always be the case.
Right?
Now I’m being paranoid, but for Sulli’s sake, I can’t Hulk-Smash anything that makes her happy. I won’t. And her friendship with her bodyguard is pretty much centerfold.
Akara laughs lightly and whispers to Jack, “She thinks she’s a mermaid. You know, no swimming for one week means her legs grow back.”
“Hey, there is some fucking logic in the mermaid debate,” Sulli tells Akara. “I love water. Mermaids love water. Therefore I am a fucking mermaid.”
Akara ties a piece of her hair in a slipknot. “Sharks also love water.”
“They do,” Jack agrees. “And eels. Stingrays. Manatees.”
“Salmon,” Akara whispers. “Walruses—”
“Hey, maybe I’m a fucking walrus then,” Sulli jokes in another loud whisper. “I could also be a mermaid too.”
Akara loosens the knot in her hair and gives her a look. “You’re not a walrus, Sul.”
My elbow already aches from the crash, and being propped up this long isn’t that easy. But I strain my muscles for another second.
Sulli smiles softly. “Want to go swimming this Sunday, Kits? Just at the Hale pool.”
Akara winces a bit and scratches the back of his head. “I, um…” He glances at Jack.
Jack is staring at the Omega lead like they’re in on something that she’s not a part of. I can’t help but fucking glare. They haven’t noticed me yet. Probably not able to see me well since it’s dark and Farrow conceals most of my build.
“What?” Sulli frowns, looking between them. “Cum, shit, that’s your day off work, Kits. Fuck, I’m sorry. You can do whatever…”
This isn’t going well, and I can tell my cousin is scrambling for the right thing to say. She does this, and then she’ll just go quiet.
“It’s not that,” Akara says. “Well, it…kind of is, but Jack and I have this thing that day.”
What thing?
Sulli nods slowly. “Like a production-security thing?”
Exactly what I’m thinking.
“No.” Akara pauses. “Jack is friends with two girls from Penn that we’re going out with,” he whispers. “It’s a double date thing.”
Huh. That’s good that they’re finding time to date. I know it’s been hard for most of security. But the more I scrutinize them, the more I can’t read Sulli’s expression.
Maybe because she’s not sure what she’s feeling.
“Oh yeah,” Sulli frowns, fingers to her full lips in deep thought. “Yeah…” She shakes the cobwebs out of her head. “That sounds fucking fun. You deserve some P-in-the-V action. We can do whatever…swimming or you know, any time. And Moffy will swim with me—or not since his injury.” She winces at herself and then slumps down.
>
“Sul,” Akara whispers.
“EAT THAT ASS!!”
Greaaat.
The drunken street heckling wakes a quarter of the room. As Philly bars close, the jeers will escalate. And you know what?
It irritates the fuck out of me this time. I don’t care that my family and security can hear. I care that eat that ass has woken up my boyfriend, who’s been majorly sleep-deprived.
Farrow slips his arm off me, eyes fluttering open into a glare aimed at the window.
“LICK MAXIMOFF HALE’S WOUNDS!!”
My jaw sharpens.
Farrow combs a hand through his white hair, and I sit up more—he puts a hand on my leg. I read his gaze quickly: don’t rush outside. And I spot the heat in his brown eyes.
“They’re pissing you off?” I ask, both of our shoulders propped against the headboard.
“Yeah.” His brows lift at me. “You just had surgery. You don’t need this shit right now.”
“Neither do you,” I say strongly.
Farrow sweeps the length of my build, combing back his messy hair for the second time. He opens his mouth and—
“LICK HIS HOLE!!”
Farrow rolls his eyes.
My scowl darkens.
And Oscar is on his feet, staring hard at the curtained window.
Jane and Luna wake beneath it, and when Akara starts texting, I realize all of the room is now alert and agitated.