Tangled Like Us Read Online Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie (Like Us #4)

Categories Genre: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: , Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
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Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 141165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
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I instantly smile back.

He hugs me. “Looking gorgeous as ever.”

“You as well.”

Oscar looks back at us, his curly hair falling over a rolled blue bandana. “Where’s my positive affirmation, Highland?”

Jack wears a softer grin. “What kind are you looking for?”

“What do you want to give me?” Oscar shakes a water bottle full of protein mix.

Jack is about to reply.

“Give it to him sloppy,” Donnelly smirks.

“Ignore Donnelly,” Oscar tells Jack. “You’ll feel smarter.”

Donnelly scoops pudding with his finger. “Ignoring Oscar makes your dick feel bigger.”

Oscar ends up laughing, but he nods to Jack. “I’m still waiting, Highland.”

Jack opens his mouth, and now Farrow chimes in, “Really digging deep for a compliment, Oliveira.”

Oscar sets down his water bottle. “At least I know what they look like, Redford.” And then he throws a potato chip at Maximoff, which my best friend dodges easily.

Farrow points at his friend. “Fuck you.” It’s very lighthearted.

Oscar grins, and Jack has already left my side to go referee Akara and Sulli’s arm wrestling match. Jack has grown closest to Akara out of all the bodyguards.

Thatcher observes all of them without much of a reaction.

I truly adore being a fly on the wall among security. The FanCon tour was a pivotal turning point. I was able to peek further and further into the lives of our bodyguards in ways I never had before, and I could spot pre-established friendships of their own.

“Who bought a hundred banana cream pie pudding cups? Literally, a hundred .” Quinn scrunches his face and hoists a plastic bag at the table.

Oscar tosses a chip in his mouth. “Who do you think? There’s only one guy who’s eating that shit.”

Donnelly is crushing the cup, squeezing pudding in his mouth.

Quinn reads the nutrition label with furrowed brows. He’s a very clean eater, something I noticed during the FanCon tour. “Damn, how come no one bought avocados or bread, but we have a hundred pudding cups?”

Thatcher stares more sternly. “If you had your radio on, you could’ve asked for that.”

Donnelly nods. “You tell him, Thatch.”

“It’s Thatcher,” he corrects. Often, actually.

I’ve wondered if it frustrates him when people try to shorten his name, but I haven’t found the proper time to ask.

I’m not even sure now is. Especially since the stairs creak behind us. Our heads swerve as Luna descends with a long yawn.

Bodyguards glance at Luna, but they offer privacy and try not to plaster their gazes for more than a few seconds.

I smile at my cousin. “Good afternoon, sleepyhead.”

Light-brown hair splays messily on her shoulders, faded green marker streaks her cheeks, and her lanky arms and body are hidden beneath an oversized Thrashers hoodie.

“Howdie.” She yawns longer. “I heard something upstairs about a squirrel in a box.”

I shift from the staircase to let her pass. “You heard right.” I explain what Akara told us in depth.

Luna hardly flinches at the news. She was gifted poop in a bag by a bully in high school, so this isn’t shocking for her either.

“People suck,” Luna says under her breath while she skates past Thatcher and me, and then the adjoining door quietly opens.

Banks slips inside.

All of Security Force Omega is now here.

I thought Thatcher’s brother would be in New York all day. I look to Thatcher, and he leans closer to me. Just to speak privately. Do not elevate any dangerous hopes or wishes, Jane.

I inhale his strong woody scent as he says, “Tom’s bodyguard went on-duty earlier.”

“Right,” I breathe.

It means that Banks is now off-duty and floating to wherever anyone on the team must need him. Especially if Farrow has a med call.

It’s sometimes strange how security is more attuned to the happenings of my family as a whole unit, more than I can ever possibly be.

Sulli groans. “Cumbuckets.” She just lost the competitive arm-wrestle match.

“There’s always next time, Sul.” Akara pushes himself off the cushion to a stance and steals a Fruity Pebble off the donut she’d been eating. He makes his way over to Banks, who has screeched to a halt beside Oscar.

Banks stares at the photographs of suitors. “What’s this?”

Akara starts explaining the plan that’s already spread through the rest of Omega, and everyone quiets to listen.

I hold the banister with two hands. Apprehension rolling around my stomach. Just having Maximoff, Farrow, and Thatcher in my plans is much easier. Having the whole room is more intimidating, but I’m open to more ideas and input.

I do the math.

7 Omega Bodyguards + 3 Cousins + 1 Exec Producer = 11 Brains.

Eleven brains on top of mine could easily make the situation more dysfunctional, but the professional hierarchy in SFO makes them a functional team. Most of them are good about checking their egos.

And when they don’t, it never bothers me. I was raised in a family with parents and siblings who love to be right. The ego of my dad alone could fill the entire Milky Way.


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