Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
They really missed the Rittenhouse-Fitler District, especially since it’s closer to parks. Moffy and Farrow bought a newer, bigger townhouse than the one that burned down. It has a private courtyard, garage, rooftop terrace, and the latest security tech.
Jane and Thatcher purchased a slightly larger townhouse right across the street. They’re all in Philly.
I’m not close by. I’m not even a thirty-minute drive. I can’t even walk across the street and say hi.
FaceTime. It’s what Sulli and I assured each other when she left. We’ll video chat. We’ll call. We won’t forget.
Moffy’s forest-green eyes fall onto mine. This is it. My lungs swell, and my nose stuffs up.
“I don’t want to say goodbye,” I whisper.
“You don’t have to,” Moffy says strongly, but he’s fighting emotion too. “I’ll always be around. One bat signal away. I come running.”
I know it’ll be true. “I’ll be using it for non-emergencies.”
He smiles. “Those are the best calls. By far. In every damn universe.”
“All of them.” I try to sing-song, but my voice cracks.
Moffy bops my head like when we were kids. “I love you, sis.” We hug, and tears wet the corners of my eyes.
“I love you too, Moffy.”
Donnelly enters with Orion, the leash wound around his hand and a fishbowl tucked protectively under his armpit.
Farrow waits for my brother at the doorway. Moffy heads there and tells Donnelly, “Take care of my sister.”
“Impossible not to,” Donnelly assures, nodding a few times. “Take care of my brother.”
Moffy looks back at Farrow, and with his whole soul, he says, “Every damn day.”
Farrow smiles affectionately, and his arm swoops around Moffy as they leave. He brings my brother in for a kiss, and they disappear out the door.
New York.
While Donnelly sets Moondragon on the sleek marble countertop in the kitchen and releases Orion, I yank the cord to the preexisting blinds. Evening sunlight floods the quaint, empty living room, and I stare out at a new yet familiar landscape. Glittering high-rises and heavy foot traffic on the sidewalks below.
The view isn’t the best part of stepping out of the spaceship.
The best part is turning around, and he’s right here with me.
Donnelly is grinning, leaning on the kitchen counter. “Once upon a galaxy—”
“Somewhere in the cosmos,” I add, coming closer.
His hands settle on my hips. “There was a human and an alien princess…who’ll one day be queen.” His love fills me to the brim.
“The One Day Queen,” I murmur.
I’m officially the successor to a multi-billion-dollar soda empire. I had a ton of leverage being the only clear candidate for the position, so Fizzle accepted my terms. My parents were proud that I stood my ground and didn’t settle for a path I wasn’t one hundred percent on board with. Now I’m transferring to Manhattan Valley University, and I start this fall with Xander. I ended up with mostly A’s this semester at Penn, and surprisingly, Wyatt Rochester gave me one. I aced the New Media course.
I’m proud of myself, but I doubt anyone could rival Donnelly’s sheer pride in me.
I’m about to soar towards his lips, but I frown and squint behind him. “What is that?”
“What’s what?” He twists around.
“On the counter by the stove.”
He’s confused at first too, and I follow there. It must be a house-warming present. A brown wicker basket overflows with fruit. “Did my brother leave a fruit basket?”
“I think he dropped it off. I don’t think it’s from him though.” Donnelly is smiling at the abundance of Granny Smith apples and green grapes.
“Are those dried prunes?” I pinch one between my fingers. Who’d gift someone prunes? It dawns on me before Donnelly even finds the note.
I read over his shoulder, recognizing the handwriting instantly.
Paul,
For the past, present, and future.
Loren Hale
“We’re best friends,” Donnelly tells me with the flash of the card.
“I believe it.” They even have inside jokes.
His grin softens rereading the card, then he tucks it back in the basket. Seeing the card and being in our home together, I suddenly think of the future.
“Do you still have the prediction?”
“From the psychic?” he asks, and off my nod, he says, “It’s in my duffel.”
“Would you want to…should we?” Nervous butterflies swarm my stomach, but they’re flapping with excitement too.
“I would, if you want to.”
“I would.”
“Alright.” He hesitates. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
I give the okay. The go-ahead. Ready for takeoff. Donnelly strides out of the living room, veering into a bedroom where he threw his duffel. Anticipation races my heart, and I walk into the empty space. We’ll be sleeping on a mattress tonight. No bedframe. But these uncharted steps, soon-to-be taken with Donnelly, only exhilarate me.
We can paint a celestial mural on the wall. Or maybe the ceiling. We’ve even considered turning the second bedroom into an office where he draws and I write.
And we’re not so far from family. My brother didn’t want to room on-campus, so he’s living in the apartment next to ours with Easton Mulligan. Right across the hall, the security team has rented a separate apartment for my bodyguards Quinn and Frog.