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)
Her family and friends are going to get a good look at all my flaws, even the ones I’ve sprinted miles and miles away from.
And why—why-the-fuck am I sleepwalking so much?
I’ve got the girl.
My family is dealt with (sort of). I’m in the happiest place on earth. ‘Cause the lake house does rival Disney World in my head. Most of my stressors are diminishing, aren’t they? It makes no sense.
“You’re shivering,” Luna breathes, scooting closer. “You should use my heat. Your species still hasn’t perfected temperature control.”
A laugh rumbles from the depths of me. God, I am so in love with her—I don’t think I’m ever gonna stop. It’s the first overwhelming thought that warms me. I’m grinning, then I glance back at Luna. “My species is far inferior to yours, space babe.”
Her gaze sinks into mine. “Only for some things.”
“Only for some things,” I murmur, lost inside her expression, of how she’s looking at me, as though I’m the put-together, invincible one, when really I think it’s her.
I think I’m sliding.
Slipping.
But I like this. Being with her. The comfort of Luna Hale is enough to thaw my blood.
I think about kissing her.
I think about holding her.
I think about loving her for all eternity and then some. Under her blanket, I curve my arm around her hips, feeling the silk of her nightgown and her warmth. She twists my blue kyber crystal between her fingers, inspecting the plastic casing. The chain is cold against my neck, and after she drops it, she claps her hands twice.
All around us, Christmas lights power to life.
The tree glitters with bright yellow bulbs. Dozens of multi-color strands illuminate the banisters of the balconies and frame every window. It’s stuff of holiday movies. Stuff of pretend and make-believe, but it’s real. It takes me a second to look away.
I grin at her. “The bringer of light. You gonna show me how?”
“I think you showed me, actually.”
I understand the metaphor, and I shake my head repeatedly. “Nah. That was all you.” I touch the top of her head. “Master.” I touch my chest. “Apprentice. Remember?”
“That, I do remember,” she mutters, sitting up a little off me.
It knots my chest, but I give her some space. Then I put my coffee down and adjust the blanket over her shoulders. Making sure it’s not falling.
She knocks her knees into my legs, her cheeks flushing. Her eyes lift to mine. “Do you want to talk about it?” Her voice is nearly a whisper. “About what happened tonight?”
Not really.
I want to dive into her head and avoid reality. To slide down a figurative fantastical slope of alien abductions and planets so beautiful they could sear your eyes just by looking. But the longer I stare at Luna, the more at peace I feel, and reality doesn’t seem so bad.
“I hate putting people out.” I speak hushed. “Just as much as I dislike causing them any sort of grief. This. My sleep issues. I hate that it affected someone else. I wish I could control it.”
“I have some experience with a body that does its own thing when it wants, and it sucks how much you just want it to work in your favor and how wishing for it feels empty, like dropping a coin in a well.”
“Yeah, it does,” I breathe. Her memories not being readily available to her—it’s been tough on her. Someone else understanding what I’m going through, even tangentially, makes me feel less alone in a way. I slide my hand on her thigh.
She traces the veins that run from my wrist to my knuckles. “Are you going to come back to bed?”
With my other hand, I rub at the back of my neck. “I dunno. I feel like I owe Eliot, and I can’t wrap my head around it.”
“I don’t think he’s expecting anything in return. He’s just the kinda guy who likes being there for his friends.”
But he’s not my friend. “He’s your friend, Luna,” I say. “For the past seven years, he’s been someone I should protect, not someone who should need to protect me.”
Luna considers this, then asks softly, “Is it so bad that other people care about you?”
My throat swells, and I blink a few times. “I’d rather he not, honestly.” I look at her. “‘Cause it means I’m not taking care of myself how I want to, and I’ve gotta figure it out.” I’ve gotta figure this shit out. Without going through a sleep study or therapy—I’m gonna get through it. I have to throw a handful of coins in several hundred wells. One wish has to come true.
“What if you sleep with me?” she asks, then quickly clarifies, “Just sleep.”
I tense at the offer.
“I can try to alert you if you’re sleepwalking before you wander too far. Maybe you won’t even do it if we sleep in the same bed.”