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)
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Sulli groans, standing up. “Why did you choose the musty, gross attic?” She motions to Charlie.
“It’s the only place I could be sure none of our parents would go. I’m sorry I didn’t take into account that you’re with child,” Charlie snaps. “But maybe you should have.”
“No,” Jane says with more warmth than ice, but she holds a scolding finger up at him. “Do not, Charlie.” She takes Sulli’s hand quickly. “Let’s go. I’m leaving as well since I’m breastfeeding.”
Sulli is red in the face, like she might cry, and Beckett lets out a long, pained sound when both girls are gone. “She’s sixth months pregnant. She’s my best friend—”
“You could always find another,” Charlie cuts in.
“I haven’t since we were eight.” Beckett sighs, taking the halo off his head and holding it between two hands.
Xander pulls off his hoodie, suddenly hot. “Can we go back to the Fizzle thing? We’re supposed to be competing to be the successor?”
“If you want to,” Moffy says, clearing his throat a little. He rubs at his arms. “You don’t have to, Summers.”
“You don’t either,” Beckett tells both Eliot and Ben.
“But you could,” Charlie interjects, clearly wanting more than just me and him in contention. More people in the running means he’s less likely to be chosen, but on paper, I think we all know Charlie is the best option.
“I will,” Eliot says, rising off the armrest of the couch. “I’m conveniently between jobs—”
“You’re unemployed,” Charlie says.
“As are you, brother.”
“Voluntarily.”
Eliot motions to him. “If you’re afraid I’m going to beat you in this race, all you have to do is drop out and give it to me.”
Charlie grits out a smile and says nothing.
“Do you really want it?” I ask Eliot, because if he does—I might be willing to pull my name out of the hat so he can claim the title.
“Why not?” Eliot plants a foot on the armrest, propping his elbow on his kneecap. “I could do damage in the corporate world.” A gleam touches his eyes.
Ben asks, “By lighting Fizzle on fire?”
“Chaos is good for the soul.”
“For you, maybe,” Ben mutters, his arms crossed as frost cakes the window. I can see his breath in the air.
“A nine-to-five in a high-rise,” Beckett spells out for Eliot. “The board room isn’t your stage.”
“It can be,” Eliot counters.
I wonder if the board would even accept someone like Eliot…or even someone like me.
“So Charlie and Eliot are up for CEO then?” Xander questions.
“And me.” I raise a hand.
“You’re doing this?” His jaw slowly unhinges. He’s unblinking. “Really?”
I shrug. “Seems fun.” I push myself to add more. “And I’d rather try than regret not attempting it at all. So, yeah, I’m going for CEO.”
“Now I’m most definitely in the race,” Eliot decrees, his concern touching me for a beat. He doesn’t want me to be stuck among the pretentious corporate elite, and I don’t want him there either.
Xander stares off at the rattling circular window. Wind roars outside, and then he says, “Me too. I’m in.”
“You sure?” Moffy asks, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He swallows incredibly hard, then coughs into his hand.
Oh no.
“Moffy?” Xander says, wide-eyed. “You okay, man?”
“Yeah.” His voice is tight. He clears his throat again.
“Are there fire ants up here?” Xander wonders, shooting to his feet. “Did you get bit?” Our older brother is severely allergic, and he’s also stubborn enough to wait until the last minute for an epi pen.
“It’s not from an ant bite,” Charlie says with zero urgency.
“Thank you, Charlie,” Maximoff chokes out, clearing his throat again. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” Beckett says, “your face is red.”
“Is it? Feels the same.” He scratches at his neck. “Fuck.” He coughs into his fist.
“I have some water,” Ben says, since he’d been carrying a water bottle. “Here, Mof.” He hands it to him.
He gratefully swigs, then tells Xander, “I’m okay. I’m okay. Really, Summers.”
Xander eases back, but I don’t think any of us believe he’s totally fine.
I text Farrow.
I think Moffy’s having an allergic reaction to an ant bite. Help.
I hit send.
“Ben?” Moffy asks, since he’s the last to decide if he wants to compete.
Ben loosens his arms, shakes them out, and the confliction rests inside his gaze. He has more reasons to walk away than he does to accept the position. For one, he’d have to spend time hanging around Xander and Charlie just to battle for the win. Right as he opens his mouth, the stairs to the attic squeak.
“Wolf scout,” Farrow calls up, carrying a trauma bag. He assesses his husband quickly.
“I can breathe. I’m standing,” Moffy says fast.
“I see that.” He chews on a piece of gum, then drops the bag at Moffy’s feet, unzipping it. “Take off your jacket.”
“Fornicating while we’re in the room, the scandal,” Eliot jokes with a grin.
“I’m leaving,” Charlie decrees.