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)
It punches me in the gut. “Why not?”
“Because I met you in a hospital, and reading about a moment I forgot might change how I see you now. I don’t want it to shade my perception of you.” Her voice falls hushed. “It’s why I’ve been struggling to read past the first page. It starts with a moment where I clearly was attracted to you at my brother’s townhouse, and I wrote it so…viscerally.”
I strain my ears to catch that word. “Is that a bad thing?”
She shrugs. “I thought the diary would be more like a Q&A. I could ask it questions like, Did I love you at first sight? Answer: Yes. Or…Have I ever had a threesome? Answer: No. I should’ve realized I’d be waist-deep in emotions, insecurities, joys, and fears. But it’s like experiencing these things without being the one to experience them. It makes me…”
“Sad?” I ask, ‘cause she looks distraught.
Luna nods. “I love having my opinions about the past. I love having this gigantic piece of myself I never thought I’d find. It’s comforting, in a way, knowing it exists. I just wish I could read the portions with the answers and not wade through all the parts I’d rather skip for now.”
I rub her thighs, more consolingly. I can imagine it’d be tough to read emotional passages about the moments you’ve forgotten. It might even backtrack her to feelings she’s already dealt with. Jealousy. Anger. Depression.
But I’m not a therapist or psychologist.
I should be offering Dr. Raven’s services as a solution, but I can’t mention the lady without feeling like she’ll bury me.
“What about having someone else read it front-to-back?” I ask her. “You can ask them the questions you want answered without having to read the diary yourself. That way it won’t shape your own experiences.”
Luna brightens. “It’d be like…a guardian of my memories.”
I smile as her hope resurges. “And it’d have to be someone you trust a hundred percent.”
Luna stares right into me.
Breath snags in my lungs. “It can’t be me.” Every word is a weight in my body. It can’t be me. I hate every fucking syllable, every letter, the mere sound of each one strung together.
Her frown hurts to see. She glances at the bag of pretzels. “That’s okay…I just really trust you, so you were the first person I thought of.”
“It’s not that I don’t wanna be that person for you,” I express. “I’d volunteer to be your white knight…your human hero, any day of the week. Really, I feel homicidal knowing you’ll write in another name for the job and it won’t be mine. Maybe I should go stab a guy. What’s his name? Phone number? Social security?”
Luna smiles a little. “Why can’t it be you, Donnelly? You make the most sense. We’re dating. You’re my boyfriend—”
“I know,” I interject, “but…” I almost yield and say I’ll do it—it’s harder to say I can’t. But the truth is, it’d kill me to read her diary. A knot is in my throat, and I swallow hard before saying, “I don’t know if I’d survive reading it.”
Luna seems more understanding.
But I add, “I’d love to read about your happiness, but it’s a diary and I know your pain is in there—and I can’t read about it. It’ll tear me up in ways I’m not sure I can handle right now.” I feel like a dick even saying it—like I should be more for her.
Disappointing Luna feels inevitable, and I’m terrified this is the moment where she sees I’m not the Superman of her dreams. Though she’s never asked me to be Clark Kent.
Still, I say, “You can scratch off the hero part if you want. I can just be your human.”
She shakes her head vigorously. “You’ve done a lot for me this past month, and I don’t even know everything you’ve done for me the past three years. This doesn’t change that.”
“I should be able to do this for you too.” It’s eating me up that I’m not even trying. Maybe I should try.
Before I offer, she says, “I get it. I think if our positions were reversed, I wouldn’t be able to read your diary either. It’d hurt too much.” She reaches up and slips a pretzel stick behind my ear. Her soft smile eases the tension in my ribs.
I let out a tight breath. “So which lucky duck are you choosing to be your memory guardian?” My best guess will be Maximoff, considering she calls him her memory guide already.
“I’m gonna think on it,” she muses with a nod.
I grin. “I love a thinker.”
Her smile returns. “My brain waves turn you on?”
“Straight to my cock.”
Her eyes drop again, and her cheeks go rosy. Like the crank of a lever, the deep subject subsides into something much hotter.
Luna opens her legs even wider, the invitation too clear.