I’ve been trying to drive only fifteen over the limit. To show him it’s nota “speeding habit” but a choice that I can control. A choice I make.
But it’s hard not revving to thirty-over when paparazzi latchthisclose.
I speed.
Just to pass a Mustang and switch lanes. Putting distance between me and the paparazzi. As I decelerate, Farrow drops his arm to the middle console.
Done typing, he says, “Silicone-based lube feels better than water-based.”
I glance at him. Just once. “I’ve never tried it.”
He keeps his hand to his mouth.What does that mean?
I start glancing to the road. To him, the road, him, and I realize—he’s smiling. When I catch his expression, he lets his hand fall, his lips stretched so wide, and he shifts in his seat and hunches forward as he types out something on my phone.
“What are you doing?”
He turns his head to me, and bleach-white strands of hair slip to his lashes. “Writing down my favorite lube for you, wolf scout.”
I flex my abs to stop from hardening.Dear World, I hate you. Worst regards, a human being who’s trying not to bust a nut.
“Cool,” I say as he passes me my phone. Yeah, so cool. Let my childhood-crush-also-turned-bodyguard pick out my lube for me. That will make not fantasizing about himsomuch easier.
So smart of me.
Genius.
Maybe I shouldn’t have dropped out of Harvard.
6
MAXIMOFF HALE
Six months ago,Jane Cobalt rushed into my room at midnight. Face covered in an avocado mask. Brunette hair twisted in a pink towel.
“Moffy?” she whispered.
I hadn’t fallen asleep yet. At the spike of her breezy voice, I flipped on my lamp fast. And Janie saw the girl nestled beneath my covers. Buck-naked. Both of us.
Jane winced. “Désolée. Ça n’a pas d’importance.”So sorry. It doesn’t matter.She started to leave.
I whispered with urgency, “Attends.”Wait.I hurried out of bed and tugged on boxer-briefs. “Jane.” I sprinted to the door, and my one-night stand groggily said my name. I assured her, “I’ll be right back.”
I left my door ajar so she’d be less inclined to take pictures of my bedroom.
Jane waited for me in the middle of the staircase. At the top, Declan played a game on his cellphone—he’d been guarding my room that night. My bodyguard gave me a colossal amount of figurative space. Barely acknowledging me.
“Jane?” I stopped one stair above hers.
“Go back,” she emphasized. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I just had a sudden…” With two hands, she motioned to her body and outward. Jane was rarely lost for words.
My brows knotted and I shook my head repeatedly. “You had a creature come loose through your small intestines?” Alright, I wasn’t used to Janie miming.
Her tiny smile pulled at her avocado mask. “And you still question why you’re never picked first for charades.”
Alright, that too.
She inhaled. “I had a sudden…épiphanie.”Epiphany.
