“What name is your reservation under?” a tiny hotel receptionist asks me. Round glasses fall down her aquiline nose, and wispy red hair curls around her ears. She’s the only one in the marble lobby, the elevators in sight.

“Farrow Keene.” I pass the twenty-something girl a credit card.

Next to me, Maximoff stretches his quad muscles and cracks a crick in his neck. I know what he needs.

“Is the hotel pool open 24-hours?” I ask her.

Maximoff tries to control himself from looking in my direction, but even with sunglasses, his expression is easy to read. Mouth upturned, neck a little reddened, desire flexing his muscles—it’s pure attraction.

Towards me.

Damn.

I swallow hard. His lack of restraint is killing me. I comb a hand through my hair.

“The hotel pool,” the girl repeats while typing on the computer and swiping the credit card. “Oh, um…” She pushes up her glasses. “We drained the pool yesterday to fix the lining. I’m sorry, but we have complimentary breakfast and free internet.”

“That’s perfect,” Maximoff says, sounding sincere. If he’s downtrodden about the pool, he doesn’t let on.

The girl busies herself with key cards, not aware that a celebrity just spoke to her. “Great, great.” She slides an envelope across the counter. “Your block of rooms is ready. Do you need help with your bags?”

“We’re good.” I take the envelope and credit card.

“Thanks for your help,” Maximoff tells the girl.

“Oh, wait, um.” She raises a finger in thought.

Maximoff solidifies.

I lean against the counter and unwrap a piece of gum. There’s a very, very good likelihood that she’ll recognize him in the next five minutes. I’ve already accepted this.

“Are you here for business or pleasure? We have an excellent guidebook of Cleveland if you’re sightseeing. Let me just…” She crouches to find a brochure in the cabinet.

Maximoff puts his arm on the counter. “We’re just here for tomorrow—”

“Izzy!” A girl rushes out of the back employees only room, dressed in an identical blue blazer, and she waves her cellphone. Squealing. “Izzy, Izzy, you have to see this!”

Maximoff rotates, his back to them.

Izzy clears her throat and whispers, “We have guests, Sana.”

Sana swings her head to me. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry…” Her voice trails off, and she eyes my neck tattoos and my lip, nose, and brow piercing, plus my earring. She presses her lips together to keep from smiling. “Sorry, it’s just that the H.M.C. FanCon announced its first city.” She spins to Izzy. “And they’re coming here.” She bounces on her feet with a grin.

I smile and pop my gum in my mouth. I step back a little from the counter. Just so I can see Maximoff.

His lips rise, and he mouths, should I tell them? He realizes it’s only a matter of time, too.

I shake my head and mouth, not yet.

“The FanCon is in this hotel?” Izzy asks.

“Not here here,” Sana clarifies and speaks to me. “It’s in the Regala Hotel, much larger and more convention space. It’s one mile from here. I can give you directions if you need them.”

I suck in a breath and decide to irritate Maximoff a little. “Never heard of an H.M.C. FanCon.”

He shoots me a look.

My smile stretches.

Sana gawks. “Have you not been online in the past twenty-four hours?”

“I’ve been working,” I say easily. “Is it about comics or something?”

“No, it’s the biggest meet-and-greet tour of the past decade.” Sana rocks on the balls of her feet. “Maximoff Hale, Sullivan Meadows, Jane, Charlie and Beckett Cobalt will all be in the same room together. We haven’t seen that…ever.”

“In years,” Izzy corrects. “They’ve probably been together at least once.” She slides over a brochure. “Here’s that sightseeing guide I mentioned before—”

“Izzy, this is all the sightseeing he needs,” Sana says and then turns to me. “You should look into the FanCon. Tickets will sell out soon.”

Izzy nods. “I heard they’ll go within the hour.”

Maximoff smiles a more heartfelt one. He’s dedicated most of his time to raise money for charity, and knowing this tour helps other people means everything to him.

I rub my thumb over my lip piercing. “What would you do if you saw one of them?”

“The five?” Sana asks, hand to her heart. “I live for any photographs of them together. Can you imagine the camaraderie? The friendship? The loyalty?”

I can do better than imagine. I’ve seen the friendship and loyalty with all of them but two. Charlie and Maximoff created a fissure within “the five” that’s palpable. They haven’t even spoken one word to each other since we started driving.

I chew my gum slower and lean into the counter. “Not a photo. If you met them in real life.”

“Like at the FanCon?” Sana asks.

I’m worried she may faint if Maximoff turns around. It wouldn’t be the first time. The most memorable was in Philly at Lucky’s Diner. A boy passed out on a plate of pancakes when Maximoff waved to him. Someone shouted for a doctor, and no one stood, so I assessed the kid.

He suffered only from embarrassment.

“Who’s your favorite?” Izzy suddenly asks me.

I tilt my head. “Favorite…?”

“Favorite Hale, Meadows, or Cobalt.” She pushes up her glasses. “Mine is Lily Calloway. She’s…” Izzy just smiles.

I know. Lily is endearing. I miss how she’d text me random shit about tortilla-shaped blankets and superhero memes. But she hasn’t messaged me since I broke her trust.

“Mine is Ryke Meadows,” Sana chimes in. “He’s such a DILF.”

Maximoff barely flinches, used to people fawning over his parents and uncles and aunts.

I restrain a laugh. “That’s great—”

“And I love all the Cobalts,” Sana adds, “except for Jane Cobalt.”

This took a bad turn. I tap the counter, tentative, and I’m about to interject. But she speaks quickly.

“She’s always seemed pretentious and just unmotivated. Everyone in her family has done something extraordinary, and she’s just…blah. If I was a Cobalt, I wouldn’t be wasting my potential like her.”

Shit.

Maximoff mouths, I can’t.

He can’t reveal himself now. He’d crush this girl.

I hold onto the key cards. I can’t let him go to a room without me.

Here’s some unspoken history catalogued only by security (not public): two men tried to jump Maximoff in a hotel hallway when he was fifteen. Unprovoked. His old bodyguard escorted him to safety, but that shit is why he’s stuck with me 24/7.

Izzy asks me again, “So who’s your favorite?”

“Maximoff Hale,” I say without pause.

His chest lifts in an aroused breath.

My smile is killing me. I rub my mouth a couple times.

“I love him,” Sana swoons.

Same.

“Well, I used to,” she sighs. “I don’t know. That article about him and Jane Cobalt made me feel…weird.”

Izzy nudges Sana’s arm. “It’s fake. Celebrity Crush already issued an apology, and so did three other tabloids who ran with the fake story. I think one of them is even getting sued.”

That’s the work of the Hale and Cobalt lawyers.

“It’s been entertaining,” I say casually, “but we need to grab our bags—”

“Thatcher to Farrow.” A strict voice blares through my earpiece that hangs on my shoulder. Audible to Maximoff and both girls. “Farrow, are you in the hotel with Maximoff—” I quickly decrease the radio volume, but not fast enough.

Shit.

“Oh…my God.” Sana has her hands to her mouth. Both girls stare intently at Maximoff’s back. “Is that…?” Tears flood her big eyes, upset. Because she knows he heard every negative thing she said. “I didn’t…I…”

I hang back, already knowing what he’ll do.

Maximoff hurriedly spins around, drops his hood, and raises a hand. “Hey, it’s alright, don’t cry, don’t cry.”

Sana bursts into a sob. “I didn’t mean…” Her knees buckle while she cries, and Izzy catches her co-worker’s elbows. Maximoff sprints around the counter, and I follow close behind.

I fit my earpiece in, but I don’t worry about the volume yet. Instead, I take out my phone and tap into an electronic contract.

Maximoff crouches to Sana. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

She mumbles something about hurting Maximoff Hale and how Jane Cobalt is his best friend.

He shakes his head. “No, you didn’t hurt me. I’m okay. I’m okay. You don’t need to cry.” She’s still sobbing, and that’s affecting him.

He glances briefly at me, his chest constricted.

I squat next to him. “Sana, he’s smiling. He’s not upset.”

Izzy wipes her friend’s tears with her blazer sleeve. “He doesn’t look mad at all, Sana.”

She sniffs, but she stares at the carpet. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean…”

“I know. I understand. It’s okay,” Maximoff says, and he asks if he can touch her. When she agrees, he rubs her arm in comfort.

As Sana gathers her emotions, we all stand.

He hugs the girl, then Izzy. And I describe the NDA in detail that they each need to sign. No photos posted online. No alerting the media that Maximoff and his family are here. After they sign the electronic contracts, Thatcher pushes through the revolving door.

Aimed for me.

We back away from the counter and stop him midway. I open my mouth, but he already cuts me off, “Turn up your radio volume.”

My jaw tics. “That wasn’t a priority—”

“It is,” he snaps, and then raises a leveled hand to Maximoff. “I’m sorry, but I need to talk to Farrow in private. It’s security—”

“He can hear,” I cut off Thatcher. “I don’t give a shit.” All three of us head towards the revolving doors, the two girls unable to hear us.

Thatcher towers over me, and I rest my shoulder blades on the wall, uncaring about the whole domineering tactic. He begins to scold me for not waking him up before we left the bus. Apparently that was a rule since he’s keeping an eye on Maximoff, too.

“Thatcher.” Maximoff draws his attention. “I told Farrow not to wake you up.”

“No he didn’t,” I tell Thatcher and shoot Maximoff a cold glare. He’s never lying to cover for me. I can’t be the reason the best parts of Maximoff change. Ever since we kissed in front of his parents, I promised myself to protect the good in him.

His honesty isn’t dying by my hand.

Thatcher’s strict gaze pings between me and my boyfriend before landing on me. “Try harder or there’ll be repercussions for every infraction.”

I force myself not to roll my eyes. “Sure.”

He leaves at that, and we’re left alone in the lobby, the girls disappeared in the back room. Maximoff adjusts his sunglasses. They’re hurting his nose.

“I’m fine.” He lowers his voice. “I guess it’s good to know people are still talking about the rumor.” His sarcasm is clear.

“It took her ten other comments, including calling your uncle a DILF before she even mentioned it,” I whisper. “I’d say that’s a success.”

“Yeah.” He nods, more assured. “I think the tour is going to help.”

“Me too.” I sweep his tensed build, stress weighing heavier on his shoulders. My muscles burn because I want to step nearer and wrap my arms around my boyfriend. And just hold him for a second.

Maximoff takes one foot forward, but he stops himself. Craving the same thing.