Alphas Like Us (Like Us Series: Billionaires & Bodyguards Book 3)

by Krista Ritchie

  Their relationship intact means a ton to me. And the fact that I didn’t destroy that good thing and I still got the man, the love, and everything in between—there are no words for what I feel. Because “happy” doesn’t seem powerful enough.

  Donnelly hunches forward on the stool and clears his throat. Reading from the magazine he’s holding, “‘With a wedding on the horizon, you can expect interest in Maximoff & Farrow’s relationship to escalate in the coming months.’”

  I hone in on how they called me Farrow and not just Maximoff’s fiancé or Maximoff’s boyfriend. And the Alphas Like Us articles stopped referring to me as the “new boyfriend,” and they’ve started printing my name too.

  Either this means that the world sees me as a human being or as someone worthy enough to be attached to Maximoff by name. Possibly both.

  And I’ll definitely take both.

  Donnelly rotates the tabloid sideways and reads on, “‘They’re the current it-couple and it’s going to take somethin’ huge to change that.’” He looks at me with seriousness. “Want me to do somethin’ huge?”

  “No, fuck no.”

  SFO may have a modicum of fame, but the spotlight on me is much brighter and blinding. Being with Maximoff, I’ve learned to not let that shit get to me.

  Don’t fear it. Don’t run away from it. Don’t fight it. Instead I hang onto the bright side and just live every day with him.

  Standing beside Donnelly, Quinn peers at the tabloid and points at a page. “Damn. Jane’s on the worst dressed list again.”

  Thatcher pulls the magazine out of Donnelly’ grip and tosses it in the nearby trash. “No one should be reading that here.” He retrains his attention onto the photo shoot.

  Donnelly mouths to me, grumpy.

  That’s one word for it. I bite into my apple.

  Oscar eats a fry and nods to me. “Fiancé is looking at you.”

  Fiancé. That word rushes into me. I’ve always wanted to be married one day, and each morning I wake up next to him, I’m still overcome with a simple fact. I’m going to marry Maximoff Hale—the love of my life.

  I chew slowly, my lips upturning. “I know,” I say. “He still does that.” Gradually, I turn around and pool all my attention onto Maximoff.

  He’s alone. Standing in front of the white backdrop, dressed in jeans and a gray crew-neck. He’s waiting for the photographer to fix his camera settings, maybe even for a few other cousins to appear. I’m not sure who’s up next in the photo lineup.

  And despite all the hell we’ve been through, Maximoff looks and stands like an unshakable force of nature. Ready to weather any squall because he’s as powerful as the storm.

  Fuck, I can’t take my eyes off him, and I smile into my next bite of apple. Watching his forest-greens try not to melt over me.

  The photographer shouts, “Can we get Loren and Ryke in here?”

  Lo and Ryke leave their high-top table where they’d been chatting with their wives. And both men easily and assuredly join Maximoff.

  Lo is on his right. Ryke on his left. And the three look straight into the camera. Severity in their gazes. Because the paternity issues surrounding the three of them aren’t amusing or lighthearted. And for the most part, We Are Calloway hits serious tones all the way through.

  The studio seems to quiet, more people compelled to look at them. Not because of the paternity rumors. Everyone invited here knows that’s bullshit.

  It’s how striking and domineering they are side-by-side-by-side. And Maximoff doesn’t look confrontational or angry. He looks proud to be standing between his dad and his uncle.

  And Maximoff—pure, wholehearted Maximoff—can’t even see how Lo and Ryke look even prouder to be next to him.

  “Incoming,” Banks says, and our heads turn as Sullivan Meadows weaves around a few tables, dark hair splayed over the shoulders of her jean jacket. She’s aiming for SFO. For this table.

  For Akara.

  We can all tell. Even if she doesn’t realize it.

  “She’s hesitating,” Quinn narrates as Sulli pauses, turns slightly. Fingers to her lips.

  Akara sets down his water bottle, brows furrowing. The two of them have been doing this concern-worried-for-each-other dance since their “fight” at the stair climb. It’s a little intense, even for buddyguards.

  “And she’s exiting,” Banks says, just as Sulli swerves around and rushes away from SFO.

  “I’ll be a sec.” Akara detaches from our spot and chases after Sulli. And when he’s well out of earshot, we all turn back to the table and look at each other.

  Oscar says, “Either Kitsuwon is in denial about his feelings for that girl or he’s playing all of us.”

  “Denial,” most of us say because Akara is adamant that they’re just friends. Not in the excessive way to cover a lie. In a peeved, fuck-off way.

  “She’s back,” Donnelly says off the appearance of Luna Hale. Only he’s referring to the green marker on her cheeks, the blue-painted eyebrows and graphic tee. She makes a Spock symbol at the camera, and she looks genuinely lighter, happier. She dumped Andrew last week, and she told her big brother that her and this guy just “wanted different things.”

  I smile into my next bite of apple. Good for you, Luna.

  “Anyone read the story she posted online yesterday?” Oscar asks the table. A few days ago she gave SFO her secret username so we could read her fics. Honestly, I haven’t had time to delve into that rabbit hole yet.

  Donnelly bites into a potato skin. “The one with the blue alien goddess and the glittery king of stars?” He licks sour cream off his finger.

  Oscar nods heartily. “I give it a C+. Too many tentacles.”

  Donnelly shrugs. “I thought it was pretty good.”

  I’m not even going to ask or open that Pandora’s Box. The photographer bobs up from the camera and searches the studio for someone.

  And then his eyes land on me.

  “Farrow!” The photographer waves me over, and he’s already called Maximoff back to the plain white backdrop. I place my bitten apple back on the plate.

  Donnelly says, “Go get ‘em.”

  “Make us proud.” Oscar pats my back.

  I spin and walk backwards, just to say, “Take notes, boys.”

  They slow-clap, and I let out a short laugh. Heading over to my fiancé who stands alone on a white backdrop. And I’ve been craving to be by his side. Even when he’s facing a camera.

  I reach the set, my black boots thudding on the hard floor. Our eyes never shift off each other, never deter, and no one tells me to unhook my radio or remove my gun.

  I’m where I want to be, need to be, and should be, and there’s nothing that could possibly feel more comfortable, more perfect, than that.

  Maximoff and I draw together. Instinctively. Longingly. His chest presses to my chest, and his hand warms my neck. My palm ascends to the back of his head, threading his thick hair between inked fingers. And if I thought the studio quieted when he was with his dad and uncle, then it falls to silence for us.

  Maximoff isn’t cautious or worried. His lips inch upward. “You’re in my world.” He’s excited about that.

  I nod a few times. “It’s a good thing I love your world, wolf scout. And that your world is mine.” That gets to us both.

  Instantly, we bring our mouths together in a scorching, slow-burning kiss. In our embrace, there is no fear or uncertainty. There is only peace and overwhelming pride, and we bask in this second, this simple moment of our beautiful lives.

  EPILOGUE

  One Month Later

  MAXIMOFF HALE

  The smell of chlorine overpowers the indoor pool. Three-year-old and four-year-old kids with inflatable wings on their arms are blowing bubbles in the water.

  I wade in the shallow pool. “Go, go,” I encourage. “Hannah, you’re doing amazing. Really good, everyone.” A metal whistle hangs around my neck, and I take a quick glance at the wall clock.

  I blow my whist
le. “Alright, that’s it for today,” I tell them. “Everyone did awesome. You all look like Olympians.” I high-five the kids, and Farah slaps my hand three times with a giddy smile.

  The kids paddle to the edge of the pool, and I help a straggler onto the cement. Parents start pouring out from the upstairs viewing room. When all the kids are collected, I pull myself out of the pool, water dripping down.

  Banks Moretti chills out on a plastic chair beside the door, earpiece in and radio on his waistband. He gives me a nod in greeting, and I wave back. After the Greece trip, he requested to be on my detail. The Moretti brothers have been in contact less ever since Thatcher became Jane’s bodyguard. And with this switch-up, Banks and Thatcher will see each other more. Because I’m around Janie all the time.

  I start collecting the inflatables and water wings that the kids left behind. Tossing them into a plastic bin.

  When I asked the local aquatic center if I could teach the beginner classes, I expected to be denied. This job—it’s achingly normal. Not something meant for a guy like me.

  But they said yes.

  So I became certified, and I’m already on my second week here, and I can see another week. Another month. I can see a future where I’m teaching little kids how to swim and build some kind of courage. Face their fears. Jump in and paddle.

  Take a breath and float.

  I learned how to swim around their age, and I like to think about how a few of these kids could grow up and fall in love with the sport.

  Everything about it feels right.

  The heavy pool door opens, and the outdoor sunlight illuminates the dimmed space. Farrow slips inside, and the clunk of the closing door echoes inside the aquatic center. Before Farrow sees me, Banks stands up and greets him.

  I pull out a chemical kit from the closet, and when I return, Banks is gone.

  Farrow attaches his radio to his belt, clips his mic to his V-neck, and fits his earpiece in. He was called in to check up on my little sister. I don’t ask him for details, patient-confidentiality and all that. But Kinney already texted me that she’s bedbound with the flu.

  “Back on Maximoff Hale duty,” I tell him. “Your favorite.”

  Farrow steps over an orange swim noodle. “You are going to be my husband, wolf scout. Let’s hope you’re my favorite.”

  His husband.

  His lips lift, knowing what that fucking does to me. Yeah, I’m never going to get over Farrow. And I don’t have to.

  In two more strides, we close the distance, and our arms curve around each other. Farrow looks deep into me, and he asks, “What are you thinking, wolf scout?”

  I smile.

  Dear World, thanks for listening. Love, Maximoff Hale

  Thank You!!

  Thank you so much for reading Alphas Like Us! We hope you enjoyed the third novel in Maximoff & Farrow’s love story. If you did and have the time, we’d be so grateful if you could leave a review for ALPHAS LIKE US on Amazon or whichever site you purchased from. Even if it’s only a couple sentences, that would be so incredible. Reviews are really, really helpful!!

  Ready for the next book in the Like Us Series?! Jane & Thatcher’s love story begins in TANGLED LIKE US – Book 4. We can’t wait for you to read about their romance! Also, Maximoff and Farrow will be back as side characters in Tangled Like Us!

  One last thing: We’ve been super careful about how we’ve talked about Alphas Like Us. We’ve never mentioned it’s the “conclusion” or the “final book” for Maximoff & Farrow. And there’s a reason for that. We’re so deeply invested and in love with these two, and we’re committed to bringing their wedding to life in their own POVs. So when we feel like the timing is right in the Like Us Series timeline, there will be another Maximoff & Farrow novel. You’re cordially invited to their wedding, and according to Celebrity Crush—it’s going to be one for the decade.

  If you’re dying for more from the Like Us series while you wait for the next novel, we have lots of extras (bonus scenes, character interviews, a podcast, fun tidbits and more) on our website and Patreon.

  Again, thank you so much for reading and going on this journey with Maximoff & Farrow!

  All the love,

  xoxo Krista & Becca

  FURTHER READING

  Want to learn more about how the Calloway Sisters and their families became famous? The entire Addicted & Calloway Sisters series are now available! Start with Lily & Loren Hale’s story in Addicted to You.

  ADDICTED TO YOU

  She's addicted to sex. He's addicted to booze...the only way out is rock bottom.

  No one would suspect shy Lily Calloway's biggest secret. While everyone is dancing at college bars, Lily stays in the bathroom. To get laid. Her compulsion leads her to one-night stands, steamy hookups and events she shamefully regrets. The only person who knows her secret happens to have one of his own.

  Loren Hale's best friend is his bottle of bourbon. Lily comes at a close second. For three years, they've pretended to be in a real relationship, hiding their addictions from their families. They've mastered the art of concealing flasks and random guys that filter in and out of their apartment.

  But as they sink beneath the weight of their addictions, they cling harder to their destructive relationship and wonder if a life together, for real, is better than a lie. Strangers and family begin to infiltrate their guarded lives, and with new challenges, they realize they may not just be addicted to alcohol and sex.

  Their real vice may be each other.

  BUY NOW

  Don’t want to commit to a super long series like the Addicted & Calloway Sisters but you’re still craving some more of our writing? We’ve got you covered! The Aerial Ethereal Universe consists of two standalone novels—Amour Amour and Infini—that follow Vegas acrobats as they pursue their dreams and find love in a contemporary acrobatic circus.

  AMOUR AMOUR

  Love is a circus

  "Every day,” he says lowly, “I hold a person’s life in my hands. The circus is based one-hundred percent off trust. I give it all to someone, and they give it all to me.”

  The best aerial technique won’t land 21-year-old Thora James her dream role in Amour—a sexy new acrobatic show on the Vegas strip. Thora knows she’s out of her element the second she meets Amour’s leading performer. Confident, charming and devilishly captivating, 26-year-old Nikolai Kotova lives up to his nickname as the “God of Russia.”

  When Thora unknowingly walks into the crosshairs of Nikolai’s after-show, her audition process begins way too soon. Unprofessional. That’s what Nik calls their “non-existent” relationship. It’s not like Thora can avoid him. For one, they may be partners in the future--acrobatic partners, that is. But getting closer to Nik means diving deeper into sin city and into his dizzying world.

  Thora wants to perform with him, but when someone like Nikolai attracts the spotlight wherever he goes—Thora fears that she’s destined to be just background to his spellbinding show.

  This sexy and exhilarating New Adult Romance can best be described as Cirque du Soleil meets the steamy, athletic romance of Center Stage.

  BUY NOW

  Also by Krista & Becca

  ADDICTED SERIES

  Addicted to You

  Ricochet

  Addicted for Now

  Thrive

  Addicted After All

  CALLOWAY SISTERS SERIES

  Kiss the Sky

  Hothouse Flower

  Fuel the Fire

  Long Way Down

  Some Kind of Perfect

  LIKE US SERIES

  Damaged Like Us

  Lovers Like Us

  Alphas Like Us

  Tangled Like Us

  STANDALONE ROMANCES

  Amour Amour

  Infini

  About the Authors

  ABOUT KRISTA & BECCA RITCHIE

  Krista & Becca Ritchie are New York Times and USA Today bestselling authors and identical twins—one a science nerd, the other a c
omic book geek—but with their shared passion for writing, they combined their mental powers as kids and have never stopped telling stories. Now in their twenties, they write about other twenty-somethings navigating through life, college, and romance. They love superheroes, flawed characters, and soul mate love.

  FOR MORE INFORMATION AND UPDATES

  Visit Krista & Becca Ritchie on their website and like their Facebook Page. Subscribe to Krista & Becca’s NEWSLETTER to receive updates on free books, bonus content, new releases, cover reveals, giveaways and more!

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