Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 145257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Banks steps in front of me protectively and shields my whole body in a snap-second. “What’s wrong?” He’s in full bodyguard stance. Stoic, alert, and this is so far from a security problem.
It’s just a me problem.
A love life problem.
A friendship problem.
I try to form words but I just breathe heavier, not able to catch air into my lungs.
He fits his earpiece into his ear and bends down to me. “Sulli?”
“I…” I trail off as Kits comes into view.
Skidding to a stop beside us, Akara has the same hands-on-knees posture. Hair hangs in his eyes in a casual, cool way like he’s pretending to expel air for a 90s-style, skateboard photoshoot. He really has no fucking right to look that sexy being so out of breath.
Banks glances between us with mounting worry. He packs on the I’m-going-to-take-care-of-you attitude that draws me in. He really has no fucking right to look that sexy being concerned.
I like them both.
This wouldn’t even be such a bad problem to have if I were someone like Jane. She’d multitask like a boss bitch, all in pastels and sequined heels while being surrounded by a hundred fucking cats.
Banks zeroes in on Akara. “Please tell me you two knucklefucks just made a stupid bet and raced over here.” His vigilant, unblinking gaze sweeps the woods past our shoulders. He must think we’re running from someone.
Dead-fucking-honest, we were just running to him.
Akara straightens up in a bigger breath. “Sul.” His voice is pleading for answers.
I rise more too, a hand on my cramping hip. “We should all clear the air.” My lungs feel tight. “Um, starting with…” I motion to Banks, then back to myself. Signaling us.
Is there even an us?
Is it too presumptuous to say it?
Maybe, because I can’t spit out the words.
Banks nods slowly in realization. More clear understanding. Our kiss. We meant to tell Akara last night, and Banks is probably connecting those dots.
Not that he can connect the dot that reads: Akara & Sulli just kissed in the woods!
Yeah, that fucking dot is off the page. No line can possibly be drawn to it.
“You want to tell him first?” Banks asks me.
“Tell me what?” Akara snaps at Banks.
Fuck, this is bad. Hand outstretched to Akara, I cut in fast, “Last night, Banks and I kissed.” I look to Banks. “And this morning, while we were out for a run—”
“I kissed her,” Akara tells Banks, his voice as taut as a stretched resistance band.
Banks goes rigid.
Akara’s muscles are already flexed.
Both guys—both friends—are just looking at each other. I can’t tell if they’re staring each other down, if their shock is riding the edge of a fuck you glare.
The tension is so thick, it’d be easier to breathe underwater.
And then there’s the silence.
Pure utter fucking silence.
Flashbacks of the funhouse suddenly bombard me, and I really didn’t think anything could be more devastatingly awkward than that.
“Say something,” I insist, almost panicked. “One of you. Please.”
Akara flinches and makes a move to the green Jeep. “We should get on the road. We have a long ride left to Montana.”
My stomach nosedives. This can’t be the Funhouse 2.0 where we just bury everything underground for ten days before we even speak about it.
“Kits—” I start to demand a conversation.
His eyes find mine quickly. “We can talk on the way.” He must see my fear because he adds strongly, “I promise we will.”
Banks shuts the trunk. “Fine by me.” His voice is stilted and strained. “Everything’s already loaded up and squared away. We’re good to go.” With two long strides, he’s already in the driver’s seat.
Akara barely blinks as he opens the passenger-side door.
They’re sitting next to each other.
I don’t know what to make of that. I don’t know what to make of anything. Part of me would love to just call my mom. Ask her for a pep-talk and maybe how to handle this strange situation. But I can’t exactly confess that I kissed my bodyguards without figuring out what this is.
It could just end right here.
At this motel.
They could walk away and realize their friendship is worth more than a future with me. Which—I wouldn’t even blame them for. Solid friendships are hard to come by, so they should probably hold each other tight.
Who’s going to hold me?
But I don’t want to be the reason Akara and Banks fight.
Still, I picture my future where I’m back to the beginning again. No more kisses or make-out sessions or anything else.
The thought sinks my spirits.
With one big breath, I open the door and climb into the backseat.
16
AKARA KITSUWON
The Jeep rumbles to life as Banks starts the ignition, and my head is split open with the realization that Banks and Sulli kissed—and I should’ve known.
It was right there.
Right damn-fucking there!
I knew something was up with Banks last night. I should’ve pressed him harder and earlier, but screw it—I’m happy I didn’t. Because who knows if I would’ve kissed Sulli this morning if I knew about them, and I’m glad I was blissfully unaware so I had the chance.