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“Thatcher! Which of Jane’s cats is your favorite?!” Innocent. Respectful. Engage. “I love them all,” I reply. I can’t see it, but I can practically feel Jane’s radiant smile.
It’s so different on her detail than Xander’s. He was idolized to the point where he could do no wrong. Jane makes one small decision that someone doesn’t agree with and she’s cancelled, condemned, hated.
If this were ancient Sparta, all her enemies would be dead right now. I’d kill them. No question.
I watch a fifteen-year-old scrawny kid circle a boxing ring against an equal-sized opponent. Teaching Xander how to defend himself—it’s an honor. One I didn’t think he’d grant me or my brother. Not after we left him.
“Go Xander!” Jane cheers. She made pompoms the last session, but Xander was embarrassed, so she hid them in a locker. This girl is heaven-sent, and I’m fucking an angel. And gripping a one-way ticket to hell.
“I’ve taken self-defense classes before with my brothers,” Jane says, slipping on a white glove, “but Krav Maga is quite different from boxing, isn’t it?” I nod. All of the Cobalts, Meadows, and Hales took Krav Maga when they were kids.
While she leans a hip into the boxing bag, I edge close. Gripping the top of the bag, I dip my head towards her. Until it feels like we’re the only two in the gym. I just say it. “Banks told me he saw Beckett doing key bumps behind a dumpster.”
I hold her gaze tighter. “I planned to tell Akara.” “You don’t need to,” she says quickly. “Donnelly will go to Akara if he’s having trouble. That’s what Farrow has said.”
She murmurs, “Like Farrow to Maximoff.” I stare into Jane. “And me to you.” “Yes…please.”
Tony cocks his head at Jane. “Not sweeter than you—” “You’re not flirting with my client,” I cut him off now. “Is that how it—” “Yeah, that’s how it is,” I growl. “I don’t know why you’re here or how you know about the fake dating op, but one thing’s certain—you don’t know me and you sure as fucking hell don’t know my type. If you did, you’d realize it’s the girl right next to me.”
kmgomgomg
Tony motions to me. “You’ve only been with girls over six feet.” I almost roll my eyes. “That’s Banks.” My brother has only been in serious relationships with tall girls. “You’re basically the same person.”
Wtfffff
I’m going to kill him. “Don’t cut her off again.” It’s a threat. He gives me an aggravated look. “You’re not on-duty, Moretti. Your client can defend herself.” “I quite like a right-hand,” Jane says strongly. “And you’re being positively rude to him.” “He can defend himself too,” Tony shoots back. I tell him point-blank, “I like a right-hand just as much as Jane.” She can’t restrain a smile.
Jane and I are both alphas, and I’m attracted to that part of her. Anyone who thinks I’m less of a man because I’d rather uphold all of who she is, including her dominance—they can go stand on their own dick and spin around in twenty circles.
Hell, I would take every fucking bodyguard on the team over Tony Ramella. I wouldn’t trust him to have my six. I punched Farrow and I still trust that he’ll have my back at the end of the day. Because that’s who he is—but that’s not Tony.
“Guy named Silvio is retiring,” Tony says. “I’m taking his spot.” I unclamp my hand and rake my fingers through my hair. Silvio is Xander’s current bodyguard. I hadn’t heard about him retiring, and I doubt Xander knows. He would’ve mentioned something earlier today. “You’re going to be Xander’s 24/7 bodyguard,” Jane realizes out loud.
Omg no
Don’t sock him in the face. It’s the only thing I can think right now. Do not put your hands on him. My breath heavies in my burning lungs. I’m not hitting another bodyguard, and he’s about to be on the team. Even if I’ve knocked him out before. In middle school. In high school. Right before I deployed. He’s tried to punch me, but he’s never landed a single one.
Lmao
“You two have greater history, don’t you?” She suspects something. I’m just going to say it. “Tony slept with my high school girlfriend.” Her lips part. “You said she cheated on you with a guy you can’t stand.” Yeah. “That’s the guy I can’t stand.” Her face falls. “Merde.”
Thatcher meets my eyes and then looks to the cat. He doesn’t say anything, but I’m sure he’s thinking Jane Cobalt, you have six cats already—seven is going over the edge. In actuality, I have zero clue what he’s thinking.
“How many cats is too many cats?” I ask Thatcher. His brows knot the longer he looks at Pumpkin. “Before I met you,” he says. “I’d have said three.” “And now?” He shakes his head. “I don’t really know.”
“I can take her and keep her in security’s townhouse,” he tells me. Our eyes meet, my mouth falling. What…he’d do that?
There was a break-in. At our townhouse. The security alarms were triggered, and thank
Wtf
Thatcher switches a knob on his radio. “We need to talk about this house.” He looks at me with grave concern, then to Moffy. Strangely enough, Farrow is beside Thatcher.
If a burglar wants in, he’s gonna get in. We can’t be afraid of it.” “Burglar?” Farrow repeats, brows rising. “What did this fucker steal tonight, Maximoff? Tell me.” Silence deadens the air, but none of us look away from each other.
“We’re not moving,” Maximoff reiterates, and this time, both Thatcher and Farrow nod without a single hesitation.
Connor Cobalt is calling me. I soften comms chatter in my ear. No hesitation. I have to talk to him. He’s considered the king of this American dynasty—and he’s Jane’s dad. Guys on the team say Connor Cobalt is all-knowing, all-seeing like the Wizard of fucking Oz and if you have the honor of protecting him, you’ll come back with a higher IQ.
We know this townhouse is safe. We just wish it could be safer. Farrow wouldn’t let Maximoff spend the night here if he believed the threats were critical. I wouldn’t let Jane. We’d already pack their shit up and drive them to a hotel.
“I’ve noticed that you mostly wear black and your brother is often in white. Is that a stylistic choice or so other people can tell you apart?” I open some of her old shoeboxes. “Stylistic.”
“You’re logical. You take charge of situations, and you’re very disciplined and regimented. I think that Banks has more of a creative-brain. He also seems more apt to go with the flow than shoulder what you carry. There’s more, of course. I think people are dreadfully complex creatures.”
I remember how Farrow and Maximoff went to go shower. To wash off the blood. And Farrow needed to leave the scene. He was shaking with adrenaline, and he knew it.
Police took photos, cuffed Nate, and I knew Jane wouldn’t want more strangers walking through her house. Not that night. So no one called a cleaning company. I scrubbed the floorboards while Moffy was with Jane. Farrow came in and helped me.
Instantly, I hug her against my body. Strongly. Protecting this girl with everything inside of me, giving her all that I fucking have.
A guy’s head is definitely between her legs. My feet don’t move and my eyelids don’t work properly when I need them to. She spots me quickly and also tenses. “Shitshit,” Luna curses.
Lmao omt
I open my mouth, but the guy’s head pops out of the sheet in a flash. He stares up at Luna with wide, concerned eyes. I know him. Chestnut brown hair, tattoo sleeve, and cut muscles, trained in MMA—he’s a twenty-seven-year-old Omega bodyguard. Paul Donnelly.
LMAOOO OMGOMGOMG YES
Never did I imagine I’d walk in on my almost-nineteen-year-old cousin receiving oral sex. Let alone from a bodyguard. I haven’t even accidentally walked in on Moffy having sex with his bodyguard. I’m having sex with mine.
Lmao
Donnelly pulls the sweater over his head. It stops well above his belly-button. He smirks and leans back on the beanbag. “Fits perfect.” Luna smiles, then to me she says, “Alrighty, so me and him—we’re here for the tattoo design.” “I believe you, but that doesn’t really explain what I saw.” She clarifies, “We were in my room going over the design, and I asked him if he could show me what good head feels like.”
Lmao omg icannot
“You and you.” I point from Luna to Donnelly. “Hooked up just because you wanted to see what good head felt like?” “I knew you’d get me,” Luna says into a nod. “I just can’t really tell the good sex from the bad ones. They all feel pretty good to me, so I came up with a scientific study. Have a baseline that everything is compared to.” Donnelly raises his hand. “I’m her baseline.” “I followed that.”
“Maximoff—” I start. “Can’t know,” Luna says adamantly. “I can’t even imagine what his reaction would be if he knew Donnelly and I hooked up—for scientific purposes—but still.” She looks to Donnelly. “Moffy goes three-fourths Loren Hale, and there is no universe you’d ever survive one-half of my dad if he found out.”
Luna notices my wince. “Jane,” she pleads. “It was just a one-time thing. He really doesn’t need to know.” I glance to Donnelly. He holds up his hands like he doesn’t want to be involved. “I’m cool with whatever she wants to do.”
And I know Maximoff will understand. My mom taught me that there are some things mightier than friendship. Sisterhood.
Luna charges forward and wraps her gangly arms around my neck, clinging in a tight hug. “If the Thebulan gods were real, they’d anoint you with glitter and a lifetime supply of great sex in thanks for keeping my great sex a secret.”
I look to Donnelly. “Don’t you dare hurt her.” “I’d rather die.” Seriousness coats his voice. This is also the same person who has Cobalts Never Die tattooed on his kneecap and is incredibly close to Beckett—my most honest brother. I think there’s a reason for that.
I said point-blank, “I’m sleeping with Jane.” Clear-cut. Nothing more, but I was on edge. He just laughed and smacked my chest. Told me he had a feeling. Said he’d never tell a soul.
“In the corner, wolf scout.” He motions to the middle. “Pick a chip over here. Promise you won’t die.” They reach the table. “You can’t promise that, man.” Maximoff pulls out two metal chairs. “I could choke on the chip and die.” Farrow tilts his head. “I’d give you the Heimlich. I’m your doctor.” They both take their seats. Maximoff blinks. “Sounds like you just want to touch me.” “I wouldn’t need to be your doctor to touch you. I’m your fiancé,” he says pointedly.
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.
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.
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.”
“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.
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.
Farrow blows a line of smoke away from Maximoff. “I’m a bodyguard and I notice shit.”
“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.
