Headstrong Like Us Read online Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie (Like Us #6)

Categories Genre: GLBT, M-M Romance, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: , Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
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Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 136029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
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I make sure I’m in one piece. Yeah. Haven’t obliterated yet. I’m just dressed in black slacks and a white button-down, the sleeves rolled. Casual and simple.

“We have a couple more minutes before the procession starts,” Jane tells me. “Do you need anything until then?” She smiles so brightly. Her excitement has been a current throughout the day, passing from her to me.

“No,” I say, and deeply, I tell her, “Thank you.” She put this together. Did pretty much all the work.

She fights tears. “You don’t need to thank me. You’re my best friend. It’s my honor.” She wafts her face. “Oh God.”

I run my thumb under her eye as a tear drips.

“Merci.”

I’m holding back surging emotion.

Do not turn into a maple tree.

“Oh no. Jane,” Kinney hisses.

Our heads veer towards the front of the line. To Kinney.

“The strap of my dress just broke,” my little sister says. “It’s white. It’s revolting against me.”

Sulli helps hold the dress in place. “No way. You look fucking gorgeous, Kinney.”

Xander mutters, “It’s the Hale Curse.”

My dad noticeably stiffens beside me. I think this might actually be the first time he’s heard about the curse. Great.

Jane flashes me a look. “Don’t stress, old chap. Everything is under control.” She’s already flagging down an assistant from the wings, and she leaves the line, just as I hear, “We need the sewing kit.”

My brain buzzes a million miles a minute. I’m about to marry my childhood crush. Yeah, my brain is trying to ride that thought to the clouds.

I’m here.

Present moment, me.

Marriage material, me.

About to see Farrow Redford Keene, me.

My pulse thumps faster, stronger, and no matter how many breaths I blow out, I feel…nervous.

My dad squeezes my shoulder. I glance over at him, and his amber eyes carry this peaceful reassurance.

“You only have one job, bud.” A trademarked dry smile inches across his lips. “Make it to the altar. And lucky for you, if you pass out, I can just carry you there.”

I don’t know—I’m smiling. “You’re joking, but it might actually happen, Dad.”

A rare warm look crosses his face. “I felt that way, too. It’ll pass once you see him.”

Once I see him.

Him. He means Farrow. We’ve been apart since this morning, seems more like an eternity, and it’s hard to even imagine looking into his eyes at this point. Honest to God, I feel like my joints are rusted. Like my body parts don’t work right. And I need him to help me feel light again.

I can almost hear him say, Relax, relax.

I breathe in.

The sky rumbles, and everyone looks up. Gray clouds amassing. “It might not rain,” Jane reassures, slipping back in line as an assistant sews Kinney’s dress.

I don’t think, I just say, “It’s alright if it does.”

Standing here, today, I feel and know that it’s perfect. It’d be imperfectly perfect under any doomsday. As long as he’s with me.

Music begins to play.

Guests fall quiet as an extended version of “Show Me Love” by Hundred Waters flows through the summer air.

I blow out the umpteenth breath.

The procession begins. Sulli leads and Kinney and Xander follow right behind. Jane gives me one quick smile before she’s off. And my dad hooks an arm through mine.

This is really it.

We walk forward, beyond the trellises, and I’m not looking straight ahead at the crystal-blue coast or at the ivy arch. I’m not looking at the lighthouse on the cliffside. I’m not even looking at the rows of standing guests, all dressed in casual white.

I turn my head to the right. Instinctively. Expectantly. I look across the wicker chairs to the other procession line.

And he’s already looking at me.

Farrow smiles that knowing smile, one that says, you can’t take your eyes off me, wolf scout.

I try looking forward, but no part of my stubborn soul wants to abandon his gaze.

I can’t.

He realizes, and his chest rises as he walks. Same exact pace as me. Our eyes crash together again, and I’m weightless.

Oxygen floods my lungs. I move freely, joints oiled. My gaze sears raw as the chorus to the song bleeds into the air.

And Farrow tries to glance forward.

He can’t either.

He’s drawn back by a magnetic pull, and he stares at me like I’m the only person on the cliffside. Longingly. With deep affection. He’s dressed head-to-toe in black, his hair the same jet-black hue as the day I met him, and he has that cool, casual stride.

I’m smiling.

Christ, everyone is watching us. We’re only watching each other. Each step, I come closer and closer to reaching him.

My dad was joking about carrying me to the altar, but I’m almost a hundred percent relying on him to guide me there. Because I still can’t take my eyes off Farrow.

His teasing smile only stretches wider.

I never want to forget that smile. Not for as long as I live. Bury me in the ground with these memories. Send me to the underworld with his face engrained in my head. I’d be a happy man.



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