Nobody Like Us (Like Us #13) Read Online Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire Tags Authors: , Series: Becca Ritchie
Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
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Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
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We’re at a full stop, and Charlie wastes no time to exit into the warm night.

Outside, Oscar runs to catch up to his client as Charlie takes off on a desert stroll.

“He’s trying to unnerve you,” Eliot reminds Ben. “You’re playing right into his hand, brother.”

“It’s okay that he’s provoking me? Because it’s a competition, right?” Ben fits on his baseball cap, like he can’t even stand to look at Eliot either.

“It’s just Charlie being Charlie. He’s an ass, but aren’t we all?”

“You’ve never been cruel,” Ben mutters, avoiding him. “I’m going to bed.” He rotates towards the hallway of bunks, but Xander has appeared.

Xander’s hands are on the red headphones at his neck. “Charlie is the last person we need to be pissing off,” he says to everyone. “Do we really want him to quit this thing?”

They all exchange hesitant glances.

No one’s actually thrilled at being named CEO.

“I am trying to win,” Eliot tells them.

“Only to beat Charlie,” Luna pipes in. “If he drops out, it’s like him handing you the position rather than you battling for it.”

Eliot cringes. “That can’t happen.”

Oscar’s voice floods my ear. “I’m heading back to the bus with Charlie, and I’m going to be riding with him for the duration of the tour.”

O’Malley asks, “Why?”

“It was either that or he’s flying to Prague.”

57

PAUL DONNELLY

Four days into the mini-marketing campaign tour. Only three left, and it’s been relatively stable since the Cobalt meltdown last night where Charlie stormed off the bus. No fistfights. No screaming matches.

At the Phoenix stop, Luna gave fans handcrafted Fizz is the Future alien buttons. She’d brought the supplies on tour and had received permission from her uncle to use the trademarked Fizz logo. I’ve been helping her cut the art out of photopaper and assemble the buttons during the long bus rides.

Fans ate ‘em up. Knew they would.

I proudly wore about four on my Security shirt too. O’Malley looked like a surly sour-puss when fans were eager to take pics with me, but I was more shocked when Ian approved it. I asked why later, and the SFE lead said, “You were taking heat off Xander.”

I knew the distraction had been helping him too. Just didn’t think Epsilon valued my bits of notoriety is all.

They do not love that Oscar is now on the “talent bus” with me. Their ill-feelings might have something to do with their perception of Omega always getting special treatment. It’s not like I’m on Omega anymore, but since all my friends are, I’m Omega-adjacent.

O’Malley decided in the name of Fairness and Equality that all the full-time bodyguards would ride on the talent bus too. Leaving only temps on the security bus. Tonight is the first night on a crammed bus with people I don’t necessarily like, and I wish they’d go back.

Also, O’Malley shouldn’t even be on this tour. Beckett (his client) is a thousand miles away in New York. My unfortunate luck is all thanks to the one and only Rookie Flu. Quinn spread it to his roomies recently. With Gabe and Frog out for the count, it left security in a pickle for this tour.

No one wanted to put a temp on Luna, and Omega’s already been stretched thin with Sulli’s highly publicized pregnancy. Girl’s about to pop any minute—and leaving the house is like performing an Ocean’s Eleven-level heist.

So Omega and Epsilon came together and agreed to shift Ian Wreath (Tom’s bodyguard) and O’Malley to Luna just for the tour. Pretty positive the bosses don’t care about my beef with O’Malley, or if they do, this is a stupendous way to test me and my dedication to Xander.

Been thinking everything is a test these days.

Can’t sleep. I’m wired from the constant noises inside this packed bus. I hear voices from the front and footsteps padding across the bunk aisle to reach the rear lounge. Muffled, indistinguishable chatter. I’m not straining my ears to catch the words.

I’ve got better things to do.

Luna is leaning against my bare chest, my legs spread. We’re on the bottom bunk together. The privacy curtain drawn shut to enclose us. With enough room for me to prop my back on a pillow, I have my arms woven around her body, and I’m drawing on a digital art tablet while she’s holding it. The screen glows in her hands.

She bought it for me. “Just because,” she said. “And I want to see your art. It’s a selfish purchase in that way, I guess.”

It’s one of the least selfish things anyone has ever done for me.

I could never justify spending money on one. Not when it made more sense to buy ink and tattoo supplies. Tattooing is a cost-benefit since I can charge people. Drawing is just a pleasure.

I thought there’d be a big learning curve to transitioning from paper to a digital screen, but I picked it up fast.


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