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)
But I feel that it’s somewhere up and not down.
“You hungry?” Donnelly asks, opening the fridge. At first I think he’s asking Farrow, but they both look to me for the answer.
“I could eat,” I say, fighting a smile. Is this what a boyfriend would do? Butter and jelly my toast? Pop my Pop-Tart? Butterflies flap in my stomach until I think, has a guy made me breakfast before? After a hookup?
I stifle a wince, not loving the idea of being with anyone but Donnelly. It makes my body squirm even picturing a strange set of hands roaming over my thighs, over my hips and breasts. Like…a violation, but why would it feel violating when somewhere deep-down I chose those random guys? It was a choice.
Original Luna’s choice, but she is me.
I know that.
Donnelly examines the fridge’s contents, then glances at Farrow. “Think Lo will mind if I crack some eggs?”
“He’ll definitely say something.”
“And I’ll definitely say something cuter back.” Donnelly grins, and Farrow rolls his eyes, to which Donnelly just laughs. He pulls out a carton of eggs, a bag of shredded cheddar cheese, and a package of thick-cut bacon.
Cassidy has finished her bottle, and just as she fusses, Farrow takes her in his arms. She calms in his strong cradle, then he finds a burp rag from his bag and lies her against his shoulder, patting her back. He’s a natural, but this is also his second, I remember.
I think someone told me Baby Ripley came into Farrow and Maximoff’s life close to the newborn stage.
“What’s with Dad and Moffy?” Xander suddenly strolls into the kitchen, his hair tousled from bed. Erebor, his Newfie pup, joins mine near the kiddie table, and I hear Baby Ripley giggle at the entrance of a third dog. “They’re acting weird.” He slides on the stool beside me. “Like they just completely stopped talking when I came downstairs.”
Farrow and Donnelly exchange a quick glance, maybe not sure how to drop this news to my younger brother. I just go ahead and say it, “Grandfather Calloway passed away. We just heard.”
Xander rubs his forehead, his face cinching, but like me, he’s not all too moved. “Sucks for Mom.”
“You weren’t that close to him?” Donnelly asks, but I get the feeling he’s also asking me. His eyes drift to mine.
“Not really.” Xander hunches forward, elbows on the counter. “What’s this?” He points to my diary, and I’m about to explain.
“Did you hear who died?” Kinney stomps into the kitchen, a phone in her hand. Unlike Xander who only has on plaid pajama bottoms, my sixteen-year-old sister wears a full face of goth makeup, turtleneck sweater, and black overall-dress.
“Did you?” I ask her.
“Audrey just told me.” Kinney crosses her arms, zeroing in on the person at the stove. “What’s he doing here?” She’s eyeing Donnelly like he’s an enemy encroaching on her territory. Her Newfie even lets out a low growl at her heels.
“Making breakfast,” Donnelly says, chucking eggshells in the trash. “Want some?”
“Who invited you?” Kinney barks.
“I did,” Farrow says before I can.
Kinney is disbelieving.
“He’s cool, Kin,” Xander says to her. “Chill.”
Kinney throws up her hands. “Are we just going to act like his family didn’t almost destroy ours? They hurt Mom and Luna. Am I the only one who cares?” Air vacuums out of the kitchen. I can hear the rapid thump of my heart.
Donnelly is frozen.
“I want him here,” I tell my sister.
“Well, I don’t,” Kinney glares at him. “Not until you go back to your messed up family and make sure, with absolute certainty, that they will never, ever, ever hurt my sister again.” Raw pain flares in her eyes, and I can almost see how distraught she must’ve been that night I was kidnapped.
Donnelly looks sick to his stomach, and I have this urge to pull him away from Kinney, from this situation entirely.
Farrow interjects, “Kinney, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know exactly what happened,” she retorts.
“He’s done enough.” That’s not Farrow. It’s my dad. He’s standing in the doorway, Moffy beside him, and he tells Kinney, “Put down the pitchforks.”
“Dad.”
“He’s done enough,” Dad says so severely that Kinney blinks back a surge of sudden tears, then races out of the kitchen, pushing past our oldest brother.
“Kinney,” Moffy calls after her. I hear her heavy footsteps up the staircase, and her dog Salem trots after her.
Guilt tightens my dad’s eyes. “Can you go talk to her, bub?” He’s asking Xander. And with a nod, Xander exits to go check on our little sister. I think about running after her too, but I want to show Donnelly I’m here for him. The pieces of my heart attached to him win out, and I swallow sisterly guilt like an oversized pill with no water.
A lump is in my throat, but some relief washes it down. I just witnessed my dad fiercely defending Donnelly, and I chart the evidence under my dad likes him.