I force myself not to glance at Maximoff. “I am, but it’s…complicated.”
“Been there, done that,” Lo says.
Maximoff frowns and motions to his dad. “What the hell was so complicated about you and mom? You werebest friendswho lived next door to one another.”
Lo looks at his son like he’s grown hooves. “We were addicts who enabled each other.”
“We were doomed from the start,” Lily notes.
“You persevered,” Maximoff tells them strongly, wanting them to believe their worth, but Lo cautions his children about addiction by using their failures aswhat not to do. “You overcameeverything,” Maximoff continues. “You’re goddamn?—”
“Lucky,” Lo finishes. “Doesn’t erase the hard parts, bud.”
Lily stretches over the bar counter towards me. “Do you have any friends you could introduce to Moffy?”
Maximoff looks whiplashed by the abrupt topic change. “Mom.”
I cross my arms loosely, my smile in a laugh. I wish this could go on all night. “You don’t want me to introduce you to my friends?” I ask him.
“You have friends?” he shoots back, sarcastic.
“Moffy!” Her mouth drops. “You’re a Hufflepuff.Be nice.”
Maximoff wraps his arm around his mom. “Farrow is my exception, Mom, and he hasn’t even been sorted?—”
“Your mom sorted me last year.” Her love forHarry Potterruns deep.
Lily nods firmly. “He’s Gryffindor.”
I blow a mocking kiss to Maximoff.
He licks his lips, trying to layer on a grimace, but he fails. Lily observes us for another second, then she asks again, “Do you know anyone that maybe would like todateMoffy, maybe?”
Maximoff groans and sighs heavily. “We’ve talked about this.”
She’s always wanted him to stop having one-night stands. Her past is riddled with casual sex partners, and as a sex addict, she fears a destructive path for her son. Just based on her own experiences.
Before I can speak, Lo wipes his hands with a dishtowel and asks me, “How old are your friends?”
I hang on the fringe of most “friendship circles” that I accumulated in college. I always preferred the other guys from Studio 9, but in this hypothetical scenario where he isn’tmy boyfriend—I know more than a few people who’d be willing to date the hottest celebrity in town.
I want to say,he’s mine.
He’s mine, and I’m not sharing him with any fucking man or woman.I grit my teeth once and play along, “Around my age, twenty-seven.”
“No,” Lo says flat-out. “That’s too old.”
My jaw tics. “It’s only a five-year gap?—”
“And my brother married a young girl with aseven-year age-gap—it comes with too many complications. Gotta nip that before it starts.” He points at Maximoff. “Heed the advice, bud.”
He wantseasyfor his son.
I make his everyday easier, but if we were together in front of his family and in the public, I’d be one of the most complicated choices of his life.
But I remember I’m with a steadfast, unshakable guy. Maximoff stares right at me with resilience and finality that says,I want you.
Only you.
