Tangled Like Us (Like Us 4)

“Like what?” Her eyes grow.

He scoots forward and lowers his voice. “You know you can tell me anything. Right?” Both of them look pained.

And this just started. I can pull this pin for Jane—say what needs to be said in a few words, but I can’t slip into her dynamic with Maximoff. Neither can Farrow.

“I know I can,” Jane says wholeheartedly to him.

Farrow scrutinizes me until comms hit us. There’s chatter about crowds amassing outside the bingo hall. We both glance at the extra security posted at the entrance.

Should be fine.

His tattooed fingers peel aluminum, and I pick up my bottle of root beer.

Jane folds her hands on the table. “There is something we’ve been wanting to share with you and Farrow—it’s actually sort of funny…” Her eyes are huge; she didn’t mean to say that, and then she slides me an apologetic look.

I can’t believe I’m almost smiling. I take a swig of root beer. Keeping my arm around her.

“By we , you mean…” Maximoff’s eyes drift from me to her. “Thatcher and you—”

“Take your seats!” the caller announces, a bingo ball just rolled out. “We’re beginning with I-28! I-28!”

People suddenly shift. The sounds of asses hitting chairs, uncapping paint dabbers, and ripping bingo cards for the next game. And then the hall deadens in silence.

It’s common courtesy. No one speaks loudly while everyone’s listening to the caller.

Jane stretches more on the table to stay quiet. “Yes,” she whispers. “Thatcher and I.”

“G-50! G-50!”

None of us have started playing this round yet. Numbers light up on the board, and Maximoff puts a hand on the back of Farrow’s neck. Leaning in close so his lips brush his ear. Talking quietly.

All the while, Farrow is staring at me. I wouldn’t call it a glare.

Jane leans into my side, and I dip my head down so she can speak to me.

“I can’t do brief, I’ve realized.” Her breath is warm against my ear.

“I can,” I remind her.

She nods. “Please.”

“I’ll do it,” I confirm. I’d like to rip this off and push forward

Some people are shooting us looks to shut the fuck up.

Jane picks up a purple dabber and multitasks while we have to be silent for another minute. Catching up with the numbers.

She marks my sheets too. Trying to fill-in a postage stamp shape.

“I-20! I-20!”

I wait for Maximoff and Farrow to look back at us.

More numbers are being called, and excitement builds in the hall. People tensing, some smiling the closer they are to a bingo .

I hear double doors opening from commotion outside. My head turns, and I watch them slam shut. Late arrivals just came in.

No.

My eyes sear.

Jane must sense the strain in my muscles. Because she follows my narrowed gaze to Tony Ramella. He just walked in, his arm hooked around his grandma.

He’s off-duty. Xander must be safe at home. But Tony has to know we’re all here.

Seeing him almost instantly pisses me off, and I’m on-duty. I’m on fucking duty. I can’t let my anger or past grievances distract me. My blood simmers, and I roll up my red flannel sleeves.

“B-5! B-5!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tony shuffling slowly at Michelina’s pace. Headed to the long table to buy booklets.

“N-42!”

“BINGO!” Two women shout at nearly the same time. Groans fill the hall and tears of paper.

We have time as the caller verifies the bingo and goes to the next round. Five to ten minutes. People already talk and stand to use the restroom and to grab chow.

Maximoff and Farrow finally turn their heads back to us.

I let it out. “Jane and I are having sex.”

“No shit.” Farrow pops a chip in his mouth.

“For real,” Jane whispers, probably thinking he thinks we’re playing into the fake dating op. “I love sex, and these past few weeks, Thatcher and I have found ourselves inexplicably tangled together. In bed, and more metaphorically, and because we love sex, which I already mentioned, and…say something, please.” She’s looking at Maximoff, who’s stoic and harder to read.

He lifts his squared shoulders. “I don’t know…Farrow kept telling me you two were banging, and I feel like a fucking idiot not believing the signs.” He winces, holding her gaze. “But I just thought that you’d tell me, Janie. Nowhere in my mind did I think you wouldn’t. And I know you’re telling me now…I’m just confused why you wouldn’t sooner. You felt like I’d be angry? I’m not, I’m not .” He tries to reassure her quickly.

“It’s not that.” She shakes her head repeatedly, blinking back tears. “I knew you’d be terribly happy if I’m happy, and I am.”

Good to hear. Except that this has an ending. You knew this couldn’t last, Thatcher.

Don’t stop forgetting that.

I have to partially listen to comms. Farrow looks to his three o’clock. We’re being given details on the crowds outside.

Growing hostile.

Jane touches her heart. “You and Farrow just found yourselves free of all secrets. You’re the happiest I’ve seen you, and I didn’t want you to have to skirt around the security team again. Especially while you’re in pre-wedding bliss.”

Farrow smiles teasingly at Maximoff.

He groans. “I’m in pre-wedding nothing. We haven’t even figured out a wedding location, and if this is going to put distance between us, then you need to tell me what I can do to fix it. Because I want you to feel like you can come to me and share things with me right when you want to share them. Not because you feel like you can’t.”

Jane takes a strong breath and reaches out to touch his hand. “Can we make a promise? Don’t shut me out of your wedding planning because you feel like my life takes precedence, and I’ll share my life with you because I want to—and you truly have no idea just how unequivocally I am dying to.”

They’re both already standing and hugging across the table. They talk to each other more quietly.

I lower my voice and nod to Farrow who lights a cigarette. “Did you tell anyone else you thought me and her were having sex?”

“Fuck no,” he says, blowing smoke off to the side. He slides me the pack.

It’s a small peace offering that I don’t deserve. But I take out a cigarette.

“Your family is getting harassed in South Philly.” That’s why he’s treating me like a friend. Because he just went through this.

I nod once. Journalists keep knocking on my mom’s door, and more recently, paparazzi have trailed her car. “My uncles are taking care of it.” I light a cigarette, taking a short drag. Most guys on the team are recreational smokers. Some are habitual, or like my brother, trying to kick it.

On-duty and off.

It helps us stay awake.

I hawk-eye the entrance, and b

efore the bingo caller starts the next round soon, I ask Farrow, “How’d you know about Jane and me?”

Jane and Maximoff sit back down. Hearing this.

“We’ve been careful,” Jane whispers to us, “and we’ll continue to be.”

I’m not bringing up the end-date. Neither is she.

Farrow blows a line of smoke away from Maximoff. “I’m a bodyguard and I notice shit.”

I grit down because that doesn’t bode well for keeping this secret from the team. I glance at Jane, and she sends me an alarmed look.

She scoots forward toward Farrow. “You think the rest of security will find out?”

“No.” He taps ash. “Because I’m the only bodyguard who lives in the same townhouse as you. See, you came downstairs every morning with a giddy as fuck smile like you just got laid. And not from a sex toy.”

Jane downs the rest of her root beer, then tells me, “If I’d known I have a terrible post-sex poker-face, I would’ve practiced.”

I wish I could’ve seen her those mornings.

Don’t wish that. “It makes this easier,” I tell Jane. She knows I’m referring to them already slightly knowing, but as far as Farrow and me… “You don’t care that I’m sleeping with her?”

“I’m not your mom or your conscience, Moretti. But you are a fucking hypocrite.”

I nod. Not disagreeing. “You need me to tattoo it on my ass?”

His brows spike. “Would you?”

I wouldn’t care. “Why not?”

When he sees that I’m serious, because I always fucking am, he laughs into a smile. “This can definitely be arranged—”

“Can’t you put a different word on his ass?” Jane asks, bartering for me.

I’m about to speak, Farrow is too. But we both go quiet. Noticing Tony approaching the table from my side.

I snuff out my cigarette. He has to come say hi or else Michelina will chew him out.

“Hey.” Tony checks back on the bingo caller, still not ready for the next round, then looks to Jane. “How about them Eagles, huh?” He smiles and tries to perch his hands on the back of her chair.

I extend my arm, blocking him. “No.”