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)
“Kill them,” Kinney says coldly. “Kill them all.” She’s quoting X-Men.
“Who’s gonna tell Mom and Dad that Kinney murdered our uncle?” Xander banters.
“Not I.” I raise my hand.
“It will be stealth murder, you troll.”
He acts like he’s about to chuck a pizza bite at her face, and she points his phone at him. “I will smash this into tiny little pieces, don’t you dare.”
Xander has a huge smile and lightly tosses the pizza bite into Moffy’s mouth instead. I join in, sticking my tongue out, and we’re both trying to catch the pizza bites Xander launches at us. Laughing when our dogs gobble up the fallen ones.
Kinney shakes her head, her lips curving upward. “Juveniles.”
Our dogs suddenly skedaddle away from us, and I look over to see Farrow and Donnelly leaning casually in the entryway, watching all of us with rising, affectionate grins.
I inhale a deep breath. Will I wake up abruptly and find myself in the hospital? Will I realize every moment after my head trauma was all in my imagination? It’d be a sci-fi twist of epic, gut-wrenching proportions. And I hate that when I’m so overwhelmingly happy, when things go right, I can’t fully accept it’s my reality.
Amazing things can happen to me. Life isn’t all trips and falls and failures. It can be easy and hopeful and so, so loving. I believe this is real.
“Your happiness is showing, wolf scout,” Farrow says, his smile stretching.
I’m not the only one cherishing the moment too.
“Good,” Moffy says strongly.
Our Newfies greet Donnelly and Farrow with licks and head-butts into their palms. Then a growl rumbles out of Salem. My stomach drops. She’s fixated on Donnelly.
“Doggie!” Baby Ripley gasps at Salem. The little boy is in Farrow’s arms. He tells his dad, “She’s bad.”
“She’s good,” Kinney defends quickly. “She likes him.”
“She likes me?” Donnelly’s brows jump.
“Duh.” Kinney blushes a little. “She’s giving you extra attention. She doesn’t do that for people she hates.” She glances around at all of us, nervous. “What?”
“I believe it,” I sing-song.
Kinney relaxes, more so when Donnelly tries to feed Salem a pizza bite and her dog approaches with less tentativeness.
“So you love pizza,” Donnelly muses as Salem eats out of his palm. “Girl after my own heart.” He smiles up at me, like I am the true girl with his true heart.
Smiling, I make a heart with my hands.
“When’s this thing supposed to start anyway?” Kinney asks, handing Xander his phone back.
I check the microwave clock. “T-minus ten-ish minutes.” Thunderous laughter resounds in the living room.
The party is out there, and I collect a couple serving bowls of various munchies to deliver to the rest of our family. No parents are at this penthouse gathering. It’s a siblings and cousins get-together. With significant others included.
Jane and Moffy invited everyone, and not a single person said no. Even Beckett had tonight off ballet and decided to spend it here, of all places. It’s nice to know that no matter who’s fighting with who, Jane and Moffy will always be the glue that brings us all back together.
I think our parents would be over-the-moon to know it.
“Whose idea was this?” Xander asks as we head into the brick-walled, industrial living room. Omega bodyguards have already summoned Donnelly like he’s needed to complete their beer-drinking cluster. They’re reminiscing about hunting for the girl squad in Italy.
The teenage girls hear and all shout about how they were fine, and they didn’t need rescuing. The bodyguards just sip beers with grins and Sure, Jan expressions.
“Whose idea was it to…? Throw a party?” I ask Xander.
“To hire a psychic,” he clarifies. “You know Eliot has been calling it the Psychic Penthouse Party all night? PPP.”
“Catchy.” I pop a Frito in my mouth.
Xander steals a handful out of the bowl. “Catchy and fun until the psychic says you have one year to live.”
I crunch slower on a Frito. My eyes widen. It dawns on me. We’re all about to hear our futures out loud—and I’ve yet to discuss mine with Donnelly.
63
LUNA HALE
Among a packed penthouse living room, I have trouble not picking out and zoning in on Donnelly. He’s miming the shape of an apple or butt while talking to SFO, and they’re laughing at his story. My superpower might be one of detection. To be able to spot the man I love in a crowd of five million. Not that there are five million bodies stuffed in here.
More like twenty or so.
Donnelly must feel the power of my gaze. He slips me a quick grin and sticks his tongue between two fingers.
My smile expands. Lighthearted feelings teem in the air, despite the impending “future doom” a psychic might bring.
Donnelly is safe. That’s all that really matters. It’s not a worry I had this strongly…not until I heard about the phone call with Vanessa. His mom’s friend. It’s why we skipped the Salt Lake tour stop. It’s why he looked so distraught all alone in the desert.