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)
“You would run…” She’s processing it.
“When people try to beat me down, I don’t stick around for more.”
Luna blinks, staring past me. “…sideways…” She’s scrounging for words. “…people think they’re kicking me down…but all they’re really doing is kicking me sideways, away from them—you said that to me?”
My pulse skips. “Yeah, I did.”
“I can’t see it. I just hear you…I hear you saying that to me.” Frustration knits her brows. “I wish I could see the whole memory.”
“It might come in fragments,” I say, feeling more hopeful if she’s remembering words I’ve spoken.
“…you said something about…” Her concentration face looks like Eleven using her powers in Stranger Things.
“Don’t burst a blood vessel trying to remember me.”
She smiles, more focused on me. “It’d be worth the nosebleed.”
“It’s not worth that much.”
“Small price to pay, I think.”
“You bleeding?” I say. “Nah, that’s not anything I’m paying. Sorry.”
Her smile softens.
I hold the base of her neck and kiss her cheek. Her lips tease upward, and I kiss her lips more fully a few times. Her fingers dig into my shoulders with eagerness, and my cock twitches. I pull back slightly before I harden anymore.
We share a quiet, calm beat. Purple shadows swirl over her beautiful face, and I breathe, “You know, you aren’t a quitter if you drop that class. You don’t have to put yourself in situations that are hard just to prove you can take it.”
“Have you ever done that?”
“No.” It terrifies me that she’s willing to. But I don’t wanna hold her back either. “If it’s something you really wanna do…”
She’s nodding. “I think I’d be disappointed in myself if I didn’t at least give it a shot.” She adds, “If it gets bad, I can always withdraw from the course.”
“Alright,” I say.
Orion woofs at the door, then settles down. He must’ve heard footsteps. Luna scratches his furry belly and tells him, “I still can’t believe you were an accomplice in a crime.” The pet-sitter bugged his collar, which was how the Rochesters got info to leak. “I missed your unlawful activity.”
“If he stands trial, I’ll go down saying our boy’s innocent.” Fuck me. It just came out like that. Our boy.
Her eyes pop out, and a hot wave rushes over my body. I play it off with a rock on gesture and then rise off the bed. “You hungry? I can see if the roomies are planning anything.” We’ll do group dinners at the penthouse sometimes, and I could eat Thatch’s chicken parm seven days a week.
“Yeah, but can we do take-out?”
“Works for me.” We spend a few minutes deciding on which Italian restaurant. I’ve got chicken parm on the brain now, and after we place our orders through a delivery app, we’re switching on the TV and waiting for the food. Leaning against the headboard, I scroll through new release movies, and Luna is on her phone next to me.
The air is tense.
Tenser than either of us enjoys sitting in. Because we keep glancing at each other, like we’re wondering who’ll be the first to break the dam.
“Watcha looking at?” I ask her.
She’s on YouTube. “A video.”
The vagueness cuts deep. Fuck…fuck. I glance back at her.
She’s now frowning at her phone. I can’t tell if the frown is associated with the video or with me.
I punch a button on the remote. I don’t like this feeling at fucking all. Fuck. Another glance at Luna. Her frown is deeper.
I try to focus on the TV and read the description of Solarbabies. Another glance at her, and I ask, “What’s wrong?”
She shrugs and tries to find the words. “Were you joking?” She lowers her phone. “Before…when you said he’s our boy—did you mean it?”
I flip the remote in my hand. “Is it freaking you out?”
“No,” she says fast. “I mean, I’d want him to be ours. Does that freak you out?”
“No,” I admit. But I don’t want kids with you. With anyone. It’s just not something I’m ready to talk about, and I don’t know if that makes me a bad boyfriend or what—but I keep that inside for now. Instead, I say, “I love him like he’s mine.”
Her lips rise. “He loves you like you’re his too.”
“You think?”
“I know,” she says seriously. “I have seven senses. The seventh being pet-empathy. He only feels strong, strong love around you.”
I laugh and reach over her body to pat Orion. “I love our fluffy boy.” He licks my hand.
Luna is all smiles now, and I love making her feel good. Is that a crime? It’s just easier to table the things that might make her sad or upset.
Tension eradicated, I slide my arm over her loosened shoulders, and she leans her body weight into me and shows me the video. It’s from Penn. A recording of The OA dance Luna and I did in front of other students.