Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 136025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
“What was it?” he asks.
I hand him my phone and then sit on the armrest of the passenger seat.
Maximoff studies the photo and drifts towards the driver’s seat. He barely blinks, and when he looks up, I see clearly that his concern lies with me.
“This is really getting to you,” he says. “Isn’t it?”
“No.” I holster my gun and take my phone back. “I’m fine.”
He rubs his mouth and lowers on the edge of the driver’s seat. He’s looking everywhere but at me.
“Just say it.”
His tough eyes hit mine. “You’re not sleeping.”
“I’ve always had weird hours. Anything else?” My tone is a lot more strict than usual.
We’re both stubborn. I’m not going to quit my job unless I’m doing worse than the best, and right now, I’m still the best damned bodyguard. No one would be better for Maximoff than me.
He pulls off his sweatshirt, hot. “Are we fighting?” he asks seriously.
I ease a little bit. “You tell me, wolf scout.”
He shakes his head. “Christ, I care about you, Farrow. And you’re sitting there, denying that the stalker is affecting you. But I’m around you every goddamn day. I can tell.”
I comb my hands through my hair, and I let out a deeper breath. “It’ll be over once we identify the person.” I’m confident about this.
But Maximoff stares at me with uneasiness. “There’ll always be another stalker. Another anonymous troll. It doesn’t fucking end. I’ve come to terms with that—”
“It’s going to end,” I say assuredly. “This is different, Maximoff. It’s a real threat.” The stalker is from Philly. They know where the tour stops are located before they’re announced. It’s serious.
His gaze turns to the windshield. Thinking.
“And I’m glad you’ve come to terms with it,” I tell him. “Because it’s my job to care about the threats. Not yours. So let me do my job—”
“I am,” he combats. “Jesus Christ, I’m watching you down Ripped Fuel and stay up past 48-hours.” He laughs a dry, pained laugh. “And you know what, I’m starting to think that makes me a terrible boyfriend.”
My chest hurts. “It doesn’t.”
His Adam’s apple bobs, and he holds my gaze. “Selfishly, I don’t want to lose you as my bodyguard. It might be the most selfish thing I’ve ever fucking wanted in my life. But I need you to do something for me.”
“What?” My eyes are burning.
“If being my bodyguard while being my boyfriend is hurting you, step back.”
I run my thumb over my lip piercing. “You mean quit.”
“Yeah. Can you do that?” He means, in the future. If it comes to that. I’ve never lied to him, and I’ll never start.
“No,” I say matter-of-factly. “I can’t do that. Truth, I’d run my body in the ground to do my job well, but several hours of sleeplessness is nothing.”
His face twists in deep, agonized thought. “I keep thinking that if I really cared about your health, I’d just fire you.”
I shake my head.
He’s searching for the right path, even if it costs his happiness, but fuck, he doesn’t need to make that sacrifice for some arbitrary “moral” good.
“No,” I say easily. “You don’t need to fire me to protect me. Just set down the sandbags for these hypotheticals. Because I’m okay, and the shit sleep I’m getting is going to end. All you need is to believe that.”
He lets this sink in for a long moment. “I think I can, but…stay honest with me. Tell me where you’re at mentally, physically with this job. No lying or skirting around the truth. Can you do that?”
“Always,” I promise.
Maximoff nods strongly. “Then I’ll let go. No more building doomsday shelters for a what if, and you gotta stop throwing ‘I’m doing my job’ at me, man. I’m highly aware you’re on-duty eighty-five percent of the time we’re together.”
I nod with a brief wince, kicking myself a little. “I will. Sorry.” I push back strands of my hair, and when our eyes meet, we both almost start smiling. Back on track, side-by-side together. It feels like a perfect fit.
I stand.
He stands.
And we instinctively connect.
My arms slide around his arms, his arms curve around mine. Our gazes never separate.
His pink lips rise even more. “The other day, Luna asked me if you were my sidekick or if I was yours.”
“What’d you say?” We kiss gently, moving closer. Legs threading. Unable to back away.
“That there’s no Robin to a Batman, and I said we’d probably be two Batmans—she cut me off and said, no.” Maximoff laughs, his eyes carrying more love than I can express. “She said I was moral to a fault and you can be impulsive, headstrong. We’re fucking different but we’re still two superheroes who’d die for each other. In any era, any alternate universe. Like Captain America and the Winter Solider.”
My chest rises against his, and I whisper, “I can believe that.”