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’m so cold.

I can’t even shake my head.

Do I burden him in this second? Do I tell him that I need him? That if something happens to him, it will kill me inside?

He continues, “There’s nothing you can do. You are a helpless bystander. You need to accept that. Please.” He touches my sharpened jaw.

I want to cry.

But I can’t.

He’s preparing me for a future I don’t want. I reject. He ends with, “You’ve gotta talk to my brother.” He leaves my side. “Promise me, you’ll talk to Ryke.”

Does Uncle Ryke know this pain?

Probably.

Even after agreeing and leaving the office, I still want to invite my grandmother. I want to seize the easy fix. But they don’t want me to. And I’m left with no solutions. Only to watch the car crash in front of me.

But I’m still the same guy.

Looking at the same metal walls.

And I’m ready to beat at them until my fists are bloody.

By the time I reenter the dining room, my siblings and Farrow are playing Uno, and glancing at the baby monitor, I see Ripley is still fast asleep upstairs in his crib.

“You want dealt in, Moffy?” Luna asks. “We can start over.”

Xander makes room for me, sliding his chair closer to Kinney, and she’s about to toss her cards into the pile for a re-shuffle.

“No, that’s okay. Maybe later.” I collect a few dirtied plates.

Farrow gives me the slowest once-over ever, and I feel his concern all over me.

“Anyone need anything from the kitchen?” I ask.

“No,” Kinney says flatly.

Xander shakes his head. “I’m alright.”

“Uh-uh.” Luna picks up a card. “Thanks, though.”

They focus on the game, and Kinney drills a glare into Xander when he throws down a skip card. Back to the regular scheduled programming.

Except my eyes are raw, searing appendages, and my body is an iron-vice. And I’m looking for the exit sign.

The relief. The breath. The love, and Farrow is suddenly following me into the kitchen.

He’s excused himself from the card game, and Luna keeps an eye on the baby monitor.

The door bangs closed behind us, and Farrow pries the dirty dishes out of my grasp. His protective eyes just cradling my reddened gaze. “Guess what, wolf scout?”

“What?” I watch him set the plates in the sink.

He starts to walk backwards towards the patio door, his smile growing. “I’m faster than you.”

I’m already trying to keep up with him. Trekking towards Farrow at a stronger pace. “In what universe?” I combat.

“Ours.” We slip outside into the cool spring night, and we share this knowing, bellowing look. A silent countdown: three, two, one—and we bolt.

I race Farrow. Step-for-step, our powerful legs pumping, and we’re running towards the shimmering blue pool. Water glowing with a single light, and his hand—his hand finds mine before we jump.

We plummet into the brisk water fully-clothed.

Weight is ripping off my chest, and the air I need, I can’t reach above the surface. I stay submerged, and Farrow swims closer. He nods me on.

Knowing what I need, and I scream, the anguished sound dying in the pool. Heaviness barrels out of me, and I’m honestly crying.

Tears lost in the water.

Fuck.

His inked hands pull me into his chest, black shirt gliding with his lithe movements. I grip onto his shoulder, and our arms strengthen around each other.

I can’t breathe under water, but more oxygen has never flooded my lungs than now. And when we breach the surface, I’m holding him and he’s holding me—and I feel free.

We drift in the water towards the diving board. Not letting go, still embracing, and he pushes some of my wet hair back. Backyard crickets chirp, adding to the serene quiet.

It feels close to summer.

We swim beneath the board. But we both grasp the edge above us, so we’re not killing our legs treading water.

Droplets drip down our jaws, and our lips meet, tender with deep affection. My pulse pounds, and when our kiss breaks, Farrow asks, “Better?” His voice is gravel tied in silk, melting over me.

“Yeah.” I wipe water off my face and skim his lips, his jaw, his eyes. “It was something we did.”

He frowns. “What do you mean?”

“My mom and dad are dealing with my grandmother’s bullshit. She’s angry that we didn’t invite her to the wedding, and she’s been hounding them.”

His eyes roll around the universe and back. “That fucking old bat.” His jaw muscle twitches, but his gaze somehow softens on me. “You want to invite her.” He knows me.

“Not if you don’t want her to be there.” I can’t do that to Farrow. “I don’t blame you if you’d rather my grandmother stay a whole continent away.”

Farrow nods a few times, his hand on my waist under the water. “I just want this to be clear between us. You do know that she wants you to marry a girl?”


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