Becca Ritchie – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Becca Ritchie – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com Wed, 13 May 2026 18:54:34 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.books2020.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Becca Ritchie – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com 32 32 Dangerously Ours (Webs We Weave #3) Read Online Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie http://www.books2020.com/dangerously-ours-webs-we-weave-3-read-online-krista-ritchie-becca-ritchie Wed, 13 May 2026 18:54:34 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/dangerously-ours-webs-we-weave-3-read-online-krista-ritchie-becca-ritchie Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark Authors: Becca Ritchie, Krista Ritchie Series: Becca Ritchie
Series: Webs We Weave Series by Krista Ritchie
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Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 162520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 813(@200wpm)___ 650(@250wpm)___ 542(@300wpm)

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In the thrilling conclusion to the Webs We Weave series, ex-con artist Phoebe Graves must pull off the biggest grift she’s ever devised to keep her friends and family safe.

Conning the rich and fleeing to new cities is all ex-grifter Phoebe Graves has ever known—until she started building real relationships in a small but wealthy Connecticut town. But she’s worried these new bonds won’t hold fast as more than one big bad wolf threatens to blow down those she loves most.

And now more than ever, she has a reason to stay in one place. Among them is Brayden “Rocky” Tinrock, her best friend’s older brother, who’s been a partner to Phoebe during every daring and exhilarating con. And then of course there’s Hailey Tinrock, her best friend, whose precious secret they’ll do anything to protect. . . .

As Phoebe and her family team up with the Tinrocks to fight for a chance at a home, they confront the demons of their pasts and must do the impossible . . . deceive the most cunning con artist they’ve ever known

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

We loved with a love that was more than love.

—Edgar Allan Poe

ONE

Hailey

“You’re saying it’s already noon?” I ask while I slip out of black rumpled bedsheets. I pat my arms and limbs to ensure I’m real.

This is real.

I’m not lost in my head. I’m not asleep. I don’t think.

I slip my fingers down my fair skin, brushing over my hip bones and a camo-green lacy thong, then up to a strappy neon-blue sports bra. My underwear choices are on-brand for my life right now.

Mismatched. Mixed-up. Disordered.

I bolt for the digital clock at my bedside and crouch down to inspect the numbers. It says 12:03 p.m.—and logically, I should believe my own eyes, but historically speaking, I’m having a little bit of a hard time with the concept. Two weeks ago, I experienced a hallucination so vivid, I ran barefoot through the grounds of the Koning estate and found myself locked in an old storm shelter. Where I believed I was being violently murdered.

Turns out, I locked myself in there. Alone.

Big, big whoops.

Reality washed away the delusion…eventually, and I found the answers about our births that I’d been searching sleeplessly for. But the aftereffects of being bamboozled, deceived, conned by the people we trusted most—the godmothers and godfather: the ones who raised me, my two brothers, and the Graves triplets—have seeped deeper into me than maybe they have for my best friend, Phoebe.

I question everything at every turn. I don’t want to. I want to believe the wall is a real fucking wall and my feet are truly planted on the floorboards. That I’m really in this cute little loft above Baubles & Bookends, a bookstore in Victoria, Connecticut.

My reality.

One I created. I asked Phebs to live honestly with me on the coast of New England last summer. I asked Phebs to join my Mystic Pizza dream, where we were supposed to have normal romances and normal jobs (we are still country club servers, at least). I advertised this version of us living our best Julia Roberts lives. Perfect, lush hair days. Romantic small-town entanglements worthy of the big screen.

No deception.

No cons.

But it’s been hard for me to stop what I was raised to do, and the only reason I wanted to retire this trade was for Phoebe. I would’ve done anything to get Phebs to quit the family business. Her role is damaging. I saw it damaging her…maybe before she even did, and I couldn’t watch anymore.

We’re grifters. We move. We run once our pockets are loaded and it’s time to choose a new rich mark, but I want to stay in this reality I’ve created for my best friend. I want it to be mine, too. So the ground has to be stable. This has to be real.

But…“It-it can’t be noon,” I stammer. “It was just nine in the morning.” I back up from the digital clock like it’s a mini explosive.

“Hailstorm.”

I freeze at the deep, comforting voice behind me. Familiar. Masculine. He’s a strong, soothing rush of cold water against my mind. I wake up to the sound of Oliver Graves.

His fingertips touch the top of my head, and I rotate with the movement of his fingers, like he’s twisting a tiny porcelain version of me in a music box.

I peer up at his twinkling caramel-flecked brown eyes. Ones I’ve stared into for so long that I can’t reliably count the exact years. Facts: I’m twenty-four, and I’ve known Oliver since I was born, but memory recollection is said to begin around three and a half to four years old and is typically tied to an emotional or unusual event.

I remember him when I believe I was four.

I remember his arm curving over my shoulders as he tried to comfort me. We were left on a windowsill nook in a fancy Newport estate. I can’t remember whose home it was. I can barely remember what we were doing there.

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Advertisement Burn Bright (Cobalt Empire #1) Read Online Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie http://www.books2020.com/burn-bright-cobalt-empire-1-read-online-krista-ritchie-becca-ritchie Thu, 25 Sep 2025 16:03:35 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/burn-bright-cobalt-empire-1-read-online-krista-ritchie-becca-ritchie Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, College, New Adult, Sports Authors: Becca Ritchie, Krista Ritchie Series: Becca Ritchie
Series: Cobalt Empire Series by Krista Ritchie
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Total pages in book: 234
Estimated words: 226965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1135(@200wpm)___ 908(@250wpm)___ 757(@300wpm)

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Love burns hottest when it's blue.

Ben Cobalt is number six. Not sixth place—in fact, he’d be considered at least third draft pick for the NHL if he didn’t quit hockey during college. And he’s not sixth-in-line for any throne. Though, most consider his larger-than-life, billionaire family American royalty.

He is the sixth-born Cobalt.

Out of a normal family of seven, he might get lost in the shuffle. But being the black sheep of the Cobalt Empire comes with its own intense spotlight. After he hits a major low at college in Philly, his four older brothers convince him to move in with them in New York City. Transferring to Manhattan Valley University—piece of cake.

Living in an apartment with all of his brothers while harboring a giant secret among a family who’s more tight-knit than a secret society—total effing chaos.

He has to find a way out of the tense living arrangement, especially as he clashes with his oldest brother Charlie. Ben turns to an unlikely source for help. A grumpy, punk-rock girl with a troubled past who's already pissed off one Cobalt brother.

So when an undeniable attraction ignites, Harriet Fisher is expecting the flames to die out. Except…what happens when they don’t? Falling for a Cobalt brother with secrets might be a Shakespearean tragedy she can't rewind.

BURN BRIGHT is the first book in the Cobalt Empire series, a new adult romance series about legacy, loyalty, and love

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

HARRIET FISHER

Itake my beer and my scowl to the wall. Me and the wall—great friends. My only current friend.

This party feels like an amalgamation of hipsters, jocks, beauty queens, and outcasts. A total Breakfast Club scenario. But instead of five people sharing detention there are a hundred-plus sharing a frat house.

My white crop top and red-and-black checkered, very low-rise pants—which I love in all their early 2000s punk glory—shouldn’t cause me to stand out that much. I’m positive I saw a guy wearing a spiked collar five minutes ago.

I take a stiff sip of beer.

Alone.

Avoiding direct eye contact with others.

Maybe I thought things would be different at Manhattan Valley University.

New city, new college, new outcomes. But I might be part of the problem when it comes to making friends. I don’t know how to be warm and inviting. I can blame it on my scowl and permanent Resting Bitch Face, but the truth is I could try harder to be softer. More approachable. Yet, the thought of being someone that people actively want to approach makes me scowl even harder. Is it weird? To want friends but also not want them?

Sure, the idea of friends sounds amazing. People to hang out with, laugh with, go to the movies and venture to the mall with. But friends also come with drama—like what if they judge me? Hate me? What if I do something wrong to mess it all up? Or worse, what if they’re amazing friends, and they start wanting more from me? So I’d have to start sharing about my life and get into my past, and all that sounds so incredibly taxing that I’d like to just fling myself into a dilapidated cabin in the South Pole where no one can find me.

Friends…sometimes the fantasy seems better than the reality.

And it’s not just girls that I struggle to connect with in that way. I’ve never had a friendship with a guy. I’ve never wanted to be adopted as one of the bros. I can’t wrap my head around what a guy’s girl even looks like. It sounds like phony fucking baloney.

I’m not even really attempting to make a friend tonight. Literally, my goals are on the floor. I just want to have a better-than-average time at this party.

When I go to the backyard for some fresh air, a thought slams at me.

I shouldn’t have come here.

Maybe I should’ve stayed inside and melted into the plaster. Kappa guys play beer pong on the grass while couples giggle-fight during a game of chicken in the pool, and I’m just trying to reach a corner of the fence.

“She’s so tiny,” a six-foot-something asshole with a humongous smile says. He wears an MVU Row Team shirt, and he elbows his preppy friend in the side. “Like a little Polly Pocket.” They snort together.

I try to walk around the jock for the second time.

He side-steps again. “Whoa, Polly, how tall are you?” He tries to pat my head, and I jerk backward.

“Leave me alone.” I raise my voice which contains rasp and grit.

But their glassy eyes say they’re four beers in and I’m as threatening as a Chihuahua. “Come on, you’re supposed to be fun-sized.” He downs a big gulp. “Be fun.”

His friend laughs, then leans into the jock to mutter, “Those are definitely party-sized, though.” Their heavy-lidded eyes drop to my chest.

Yeah, I have larger than average boobs. I’ve been told this super uninteresting fact since the tenth grade. Guys like to act as if it’s surprising to me. Like I don’t realize my tits are, I don’t know, attached to my fucking body.

I can see them.

I know they’re big.

And I wish I didn’t finish off my beer in the house. I’d throw it at his face. Cup and all. Instead, I flip them off with two middle fingers. “How’s this for fun?”

They snicker, like I’m playing around. Like this is just a game and I should lighten up. It’s a party, right? We’re at a frat house on campus. People aren’t taking anything seriously here.

I’m the buzzkill.

But maybe I don’t want to be the five-foot-one party favor.

“Seriously,” I growl. “Just let me through.” I try to slip past the jock.

He blocks me.

I glare. “Dude.”

“Polly.”

What the fuck?!

“Oooh, you made her mad, Cameron,” he says off my scowl.

“Does she bite?” Cameron laughs, then tries to pat my blonde hair again.

I swat his hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

“Aww, she’s a snapping turtle.” Cameron passes his beer to his preppy friend. “You know what turtles need?”

My pulse races. I try to back away, to return inside, but I barely even rotate before Cameron hoists me around the waist. I kick out as he tosses me over his shoulder and shouts, “Water!”

“Let me down!” I yell, banging a fist against his back. I squirm and try to pull away as he carries me to the pool. No, no, no. Panic envelops me alongside raw anger, and I fight against his rower strength.

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Advertisement Destructively Mine (Webs We Weave #2) Read Online Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie http://www.books2020.com/destructively-mine-webs-we-weave-2-read-online-krista-ritchie-becca-ritchie Thu, 01 May 2025 18:19:15 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/destructively-mine-webs-we-weave-2-read-online-krista-ritchie-becca-ritchie Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, New Adult Authors: Becca Ritchie, Krista Ritchie Series: Becca Ritchie
Series: Webs We Weave Series by Krista Ritchie
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Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 145038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)

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FROM THE AUTHORS OF THE TIKTOK SENSATION, ADDICTED TO YOU!

Ex-grifter Phoebe Graves’ new life threatens to come crashing down around her in the next unputdownable novel from the New York Times bestselling authors of the Addicted series.

As the daughter of a con artist, Phoebe Graves only knew a life of swindling the rich until her best friend and fellow grifter, Hailey Tinrock, proposed an idea to start a new, honest life in a wealthy college town of Connecticut. Once there, they decided to leave behind their deceitful tricks and be truthful for once. But you know what they say about best intentions. . . .

While Phoebe is fake-dating Jake Waterford, the third-born son to an uber-wealthy and influential family, she’s actually dating and falling deeper in love with Brayden “Rocky” Tinrock—Hailey’s older brother. To make matters more complicated, Phoebe’s mother shows up out of the blue with conniving match-making designs of her own.

Her mother’s arrival threatens to unravel Phoebe’s plans. To keep her love, her friends, and her newfound happiness, Phoebe will have to return to her old games . . . and win

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Believe nothing you hear, and only half of what you see.

—Edgar Allan Poe

PROLOGUE

Phoebe

Eight Years Ago

The Rip Deal

Malibu, California

I stare wide-eyed at a pink, a black, and a bright neon-green bikini splayed on the king-sized bed—a bed that I’ve called mine for four whopping whole days. “Why is this so hard for you?” I mutter to myself. “It’s an outfit, not a math problem. Get your shit together.”

Don’t talk to yourself out loud, bug. It’s a bad tell. Keep that up here. I hear my mom’s tip and imagine her tapping her temple with a wink. These four walls don’t need to know I’m an anxious, nervous mess. Lest I slip up in front of the things that do matter.

The four-poster bed!

The joke falls flat in my head, and I let out an audible wheezy laugh. Am I really this pathetic?

No.

I’m adept. Savvy. Confident.

I won’t slip up in front of any mark. Not for this job.

Seduce a self-absorbed, self-proclaimed “rich kid” from Malibu. In the ever-moving career of swindling the rich and handsy assholes of the world, I’ve been granted a new project. Hailey’s mom and my mom are trusting I can knock the pants off Kellan Fields while they handle more complicated threads to the larger Rip Deal, which involves screwing his father out of half a million via an under-the-table cash deal and sleight of hand. I know I have one of the easier roles.

It shouldn’t be that hard.

I’m sixteen.

This really isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve batted my lashes at boarding-school boys, and they’ve fallen for every trick in the temptress handbook. I’ve made out with an older guy in his Lambo, too, even if the actual act of being lip-locked with him is hazy in my head. I can’t remember what I did.

My short time here in Malibu has been going…okay. Day one, I “accidentally” bumped into Kellan on the pier. Day two, I went on the most boring coffee date where he name-dropped A-listers and spent a solid hour listing off the specs of his Ferrari and yammering on about his father’s yacht.

It’d been fine.

Until the end of the date when we kissed, and he reacted…strange. It caught me off guard. He thinks I’m eighteen like him, and I’m afraid my mere persona screamed adolescent! at some point. This con can’t unravel because of me.

Now he’s invited me to a beach bonfire with his friends, and I’d like to open the sliding glass doors to my new bedroom, step onto the porch, fling all three bikinis at the million-dollar ocean view, and hope the wind carries them into the Pacific.

Then my decision would be made for me.

I could just go naked.

Problem solved. The fact that I’m a second from Googling whether this is a nude beach means I’ve really lost it.

A knock sounds before my door creaks open. A second opinion. Thank God. I exhale. “Hailey,” I say without turning. “I need your help. Please, please rank these from classy slut to trashy slut. I can’t figure out what I should be wearing tonight.” I pick up the black bikini with the low-cut top and G-string bottoms and whirl around to…

My face flames. “Not Hailey.” So much for keeping my inner thoughts to myself.

Rocky raises his brows. “Not Hailey.”

My entire body roasts on a spit at being caught in a distraught state about an absurdly dumb thing like clothes in front of my best friend’s older brother.

After shutting the door, he strides farther into my room. My heart flip-flops as the space between us depletes.

His gaze falls to the bikini I’m holding. “That one is fucking trashy.”

“You haven’t even seen it,” I combat. It’s balled in my fist.

He extends a hand. “Pass it then.”

Heat bathes my face ten times more, and it’s not like I haven’t worked a con with Rocky. I’ve worked most cons right alongside him, but I would greatly like to default to his sister’s advice right now because A) Hailey is a beautiful genius and B) she’s not the one I have a crush on!

Except, the idea of not giving him the bikini, of not reeling him closer and finding out what happens next—that sounds boring. My pulse speeds as I place the bikini in Rocky’s hand, and I bask in the adrenaline rush.

It’s me, deciding my fate, my next move.

It’s him, his eyes on mine for an extended beat. Like he sees who I am before he sees the shape of my body.

Our fingers brush as I retract, and a weird sensation pulsates inside me and tickles my skin. I try not to wobble at his closeness or how he’s touching the string that might go between my legs tonight. You don’t like him. He’s annoying. He’s ugly.

Yeah. Right.

He needs to do something supremely aggravating right fucking now, so I can ignore the Jupiter-sized crush I have on him.

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Advertisement A Very Addicted Christmas Read Online Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie http://www.books2020.com/a-very-addicted-christmas-read-online-krista-ritchie-becca-ritchie Fri, 06 Dec 2024 20:24:14 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/a-very-addicted-christmas-read-online-krista-ritchie-becca-ritchie Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Novella Authors: Becca Ritchie, Krista Ritchie Advertisement

Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 60309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)

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Available for a limited time only!

Follow the characters you love from the Addicted Series and Like Us Series as they embark on holiday shenanigans throughout the years.

Don’t miss the

Christmas on the road in a tour bus.Snowed-in during a Scotland trip.Lake house winter traditions with the whole family.A high school “snow themed” party going disastrously awry.

A Very Addicted Christmas is a holiday collection of 18 bonus scenes collected in eBook for the very first time!

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

PART ONE

DECEMBER 2030

ONE

THE VAIL LODGE

DECEMBER 2030

6 YEARS & 8 MONTHS BEFORE DAMAGED LIKE US

We listened to "Tomorrow" by Miner while writing this scene.

Character List:

Ryke Meadows - 41

Loren Hale - 40

Lily Calloway - 39

Daisy Calloway - 34

Maximoff Hale - 15

Sullivan Meadows - 12

Winona Meadows - 6

Bodyguards:

Declan - Epsilon Lead (Current Client: Maximoff Hale)

Greer - 20’s Epsilon (Current Client: Sullivan Meadows)

MAXIMOFF HALE

“YOU FUCKING SURE?” SULLI ASKS as she yanks the laces of her snowboarding boots. My younger cousin is twelve and almost as tall as me. Her biceps are pretty cut from swimming, and I lost 4 out of 10 arm-wrestling matches on the flight to Vail.

“Yeah.” I nod. “I’m sure.” My breath smokes the cold air, both of us outside the ski resort’s gear rental shop. “I’m going to sit this one out.” I zip up my gray snow jacket as a gust blows through.

And I glance toward the edge of the lodge. Near the parking lot, a new round of paparazzi climb out of their vans. Gathering their camera equipment.

I bet they flew in a couple hours ago once our location leaked.

It’s expected, and it’s my every day back in Philly. I don’t really give a fuck about paparazzi. As long as they keep their distance and maintain the mutual respect we’ve built.

Our bodyguards, Declan and Greer, are looming close and will make sure no doomsdays occur. Both are already eagle-eyeing the van.

Sulli follows my gaze and sighs deeply. “Fuck.” She was hoping they’d all stay back in Philly.

I lick my chapped lips that start to crack. Great.

I’m more worried about the fact that I’m in dire need of chapstick than the fact that a swarm of paparazzi are about to descend upon us.

She looks back at me, and I say strongly, “Don’t worry about them, Sul. They’re not going to bother you.”

I don’t mention how the paparazzi are here to film me and her dad.

Whenever I’m in proximity to Uncle Ryke, it’s media catnip. It’s not a headache unless I make it one, and I’m not going to.

I don’t care about those rumors. You know the ones. Where tabloids say Ryke Meadows is my biological dad even though I have paternity tests that prove otherwise.

Drama free—that’s what these three days are supposed to be. Sulli, Uncle Ryke, and I are spending a few days in Vail before heading to the Smoky Mountains. We’re meeting up with everyone else at the lake house for our winter break vacation. Filled with Christmas traditions and family.

Sulli tugs her knit beanie over her reddened ears. Snow flurries stick to her dark brown hair that drapes on her broad swimmer’s shoulders. “Mof, you know I’m not even doing the black diamond.”

I smile. Yeah, I didn’t think Sulli would run a black diamond. Not because she wouldn’t want to. She’s just deep in swim training at the moment. I’m also in training, but she’s ten times more competitive. And she’s not about to risk injury on a dangerous route.

Sulli has spent most of her time at the lodge’s indoor pool. Her dad has had to practically rip her away. Reminding her that they came for fun and something other than swimming.

She can get into her head a lot. Too focused on one goal.

“It’ll be a scenic run,” she tells me, finished lacing her boots. “You sure you want to miss out on that?”

I crack a knuckle or two. Thinking about this for a second. Before Ryke and Sulli invited me on their three-day trip, I told myself that I’d give them some one-on-one time. I don’t ever really feel like a third-wheel, but I also don’t want to take away anything from anybody. This morning just feels like the perfect opportunity to bow out.

“We still have tomorrow,” I say. “And I’ll catch back up with you later today.”

Sulli looks a bit bummed. Her shoulders drop.

I nudge her arm. “What if I meet you at the pool later?”

Those magic words light up her green eyes. “Fuck it, let’s skip the hills and just go to the pool now.”

“No, no fucking it,” her dad proclaims, hearing what she said. The door to the gear rental shop bangs closed as he exits. Carrying a snowboard, he nears us. His boots are already on and his brown eyes darken on his daughter. “At least one run today, Sulli.”

She picks up her snowboard. “Will you race me?”

His brows knot. “I thought you wanted to take it fucking easy.”

“No black diamond or anything,” Sulli explains. “That’d be good, right?”

He gives her a hard paternal look. “That’s up to you, sweetie. You want to do the black diamond, we can fucking do that.”

Sulli figures out what she wants pretty quickly. “Just an easier route, but not the bunny slope.”

“Alright.”

“And you’ll race me?”

He rests a hand on her head. “Deal.”

She looks up at him with a smile before her phone buzzes. She digs in her jacket pocket. “Right on fucking time.”

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Advertisement Dishonestly Yours (Webs We Weave #1) Read Online Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie http://www.books2020.com/dishonestly-yours-webs-we-weave-1-read-online-krista-ritchie-becca-ritchie Wed, 07 Aug 2024 09:50:50 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/dishonestly-yours-webs-we-weave-1-read-online-krista-ritchie-becca-ritchie Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Authors: Becca Ritchie, Krista Ritchie Series: Becca Ritchie
Series: Webs We Weave Series by Krista Ritchie
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Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 635(@200wpm)___ 508(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)

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Starting fresh is the only way Phoebe can escape a life of crime, but her best friend's older brother complicates honest dreams in this gripping new series from the authors of the Addicted series.

Phoebe Graves grew up in a family where deception and seduction are as commonplace as breathing. The Graves and her best friend Hailey’s family have been on the run their whole lives, but after a high-stakes con job goes south, Phoebe and Hailey decide to run away and start over. The small Connecticut town they settle in seems too good to be true.

The biggest flaw in their plan is Hailey’s frustratingly handsome brother, Rocky, who insists on coming with them. Living honestly isn’t in his DNA, and his past with Phoebe is downright messy. He’s everything she wants, but nothing she can have.

Phoebe worries that Rocky will tempt them back into their old ways, where lying is second nature. She doesn’t want Rocky to mess up the new life she’s begun for herself. The longer she stays in town, the more she realizes what it means to have a reputation—and what a normal life with the man she loves could look like.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

One

Phoebe

People say you choose your friends, but my friendship with Hailey Tinrock never felt like a choice. We clung to each other because we were told to, and then it became survival. And now—together—we’re leaving our families behind.

At midnight, the motel room stinks of stale cigarettes and a microwaved burrito from its previous resident. Yellowed stains bleed into the cement walls and ceiling tiles. Five-star accommodations right here. Luxurious.

It’s definitely not the Ritz-Carlton, and I’ve already become a roach murderer. I’ve counted four cockroaches so far, killed three with a rolled Forbes magazine that Hailey had been flipping through. She ripped off the cover with the roach juice to keep reading. I watch as the last one skitters into an air vent. It was smart to run away from us.

He knew what was coming.

As I plop down on the lumpy mattress, it lets out a warning screech but supports my weight enough. I appraise a box of poison—sorry, I mean hair dye. My scalp burns like I scrubbed it with sriracha and chile flakes.

“It says to wait thirty minutes,” Hailey tells me, sitting cross-legged on the disgusting plaid chair in the corner. Her wet hair hides underneath a plastic cap, the color processing. She’s wearing only an oversized black tee that says hexes on my exes, knee-high socks, and jet-black lipstick.

I’m not shocked she’s painting her nails the same inky color.

Hailey dresses like she’s someone who could stab you while she’s sucking on a cigarette, but her favorite movie is about sisters working at a small-town pizza joint and falling in love so, so slowly. I can’t sit through ten minutes of Mystic Pizza, and Hailey watches it every weekend like it’s her bible.

She also has zero exes to hex. Just a laundry list of one-night stands and short-term flings. Our lifestyles aren’t compatible with long-term relationships.

At least not real ones.

Hailey doesn’t recheck the instructions on the hair dye box. I trust that she remembered the info on the first read through. Photographic memory and all.

I’d be envious if she weren’t my best friend and didn’t use her beautiful brain to bail me out of a million and one tragic scenarios.

“Are we sure they didn’t make this stuff out of jalapeño paste?” I force myself not to itch, but yeah, I kinda scratch and wince. No self-control. “It feels like fire ants are exploding on my head. I’ve never even heard of this brand.” I rotate the box to stare at the front. “Vivid Value Color. What’s our plan B if our hair starts falling out again?”

“We shave our heads,” Hailey says, like it’s the obvious solution. She blows on her wet nails, and I try not to mourn my hair. Would I actually shave it?

Yes, I’m all-in with her.

Would I tear up?

One hundred percent.

Would she?

Probably not, considering she shaved her head when she was sixteen. Now that she’s twenty-four, it’s regularly chopped at her shoulders in an edgy cut.

At the moment, I’m restraining myself from doing a full-fingernailed scalp massage. Do not.

She can see my struggle. “We didn’t have much to choose from at the gas station, Phebs.”

“I know.” I sigh, trying not to complain. We might be the same age and she might be the one figuratively behind the wheel, but I’m the one dead set on protecting us and keeping us from struggling.

When Hailey came up with this idea in Carlsbad, we had just trekked away from a multimillion-dollar beach house in the pouring rain. All façades dropped—we didn’t call for our personal driver in his Bentley to take us “home.”

We just slipped out. Without splendor or attention.

Almost like we never arrived.

It’d been a little past one a.m.—you don’t forget things like time when it’s one of those days that stay with you. Or in this case, one of those nights. After a long, barefoot trek with our heels in our hands, we sat at a bus stop, thinking we could escape the rain while we waited.

We didn’t.

Carlsbad’s bus stops have fancy white pergolas as roofs. So rain slipped through the slats of wood and wet our hair and our flowery Oscar de la Renta dresses we just purchased this summer. Her dress was embroidered with poisonous white oleanders. Mine was threaded with delicate pink tulips.

Hailey was silently crying. I could tell, even in the storm. She’s an ugly crier when it’s not faked. Her whole face was scrunched, and her reddened eyes looked touched by the salt of her emotion, not the sky.

Dark mascara streamed down her cheeks, and I clasped her hand tighter while my knees jostled. From the cold, I wanted to believe.

I was just cold from the rain.

“Phoebe,” Hailey choked out. “I-I don’t think we should do this again.” She tried to catch my gaze.

But I stared at my lap. My dress was riding up, and a trickle of blood on my thigh became exposed to the elements. The rain washed away the crimson streak in a blink.

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Advertisement Nobody Like Us (Like Us #13) Read Online Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie http://www.books2020.com/nobody-like-us-like-us-13-read-online-krista-ritchie-becca-ritchie Thu, 08 Feb 2024 08:24:33 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/nobody-like-us-like-us-13-read-online-krista-ritchie-becca-ritchie Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire Authors: Becca Ritchie, Krista Ritchie 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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Sci-fi writer, heiress, weirdo, and oldest daughter of the beloved and infamous Hale family, 21-year-old Luna Hale has been known by many names. But the title she’s coveted these days has been elusive…until now.

She can see it. It’s in reach. She’s more than ready to be his girlfriend.
Luna wants to go on an exploration of Paul Donnelly. Top to bottom. Inside out. To discover all there is to know about her human hero. But he’s afraid some skeletons are better left in the darkness.
As a death in the family unsteadies multiple futures, Luna and Donnelly see turbulence ahead, but they’re determined to steer their ship through the rubble and finally make a landing. This time, together.

Luna and Donnelly’s out-of-this-world, cosmic love returns in this romantic, heart-pounding, and epic conclusion to the Like Us series.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

DECEMBER

“All of this has happened before. All of this will happen again.”

— Battlestar Galactica

1

PAUL DONNELLY

I’ve been avoiding funerals most of my life. Didn’t make it to my grandmom’s when she croaked. Skipped out on mass for deceased aunts and uncles. Been to one wake for a cousin. But that was because I was thirteen and hungry and they had roast beef hoagies. I’m not big on death. It feels like the conclusion of something—and I’d just rather keep on running, keep on going, than celebrate any kind of ending.

On the grassy hill of a cemetery a little outside Philly, it hits me like a burst of cold December wind.

My first funeral is for a Calloway.

Not my mom.

Not my dad.

A fucking Calloway.

I’d laugh at the sheer shock of it—but can’t laugh during a funeral. I have manners and all—even if everyone in the cemetery has been eyeballing me and Luna rather than the coffin that’ll descend into the freshly dug earth.

Feels like we were the ones who died.

Like half the people here are lowering us into the ground.

At least I’m with her. In life, in death…at least I’m with Luna Hale.

I scrape a hand through my hair.

Yeah, I’m not dead yet. Luna leans into my shoulder, her warmth radiating against me, and my left arm is already around this girl.

I look down at her. Residual glitter is still stuck in her light brown hair, the strands sparkling, and her round cheeks are rosy from the biting winter air. Her black puffer jacket is too short to warm the length of her body, but I tuck her close to me.

She’s mine. She’s all mine, but from across the wooden casket, I spot a fortysomething woman with deep auburn hair yanked into a taut bun. Luna’s therapist. If she could chuck stones, I’d be pelted to death by now. She would rather I let Luna go.

It’s worse when I spot Luna’s parents. Her mom practically turns her face into her husband’s chest just to avoid me. Like I’m truly disease-ridden and toxic waste.

My stomach clenches.

It’s not about me. She’s just upset about who died. It’s upsetting. This death. This whole thing. I try to convince myself, but it’s also clear she’s doing her best not to make eye contact with me.

Luna senses her mom’s avoidance, and she shifts uneasily. I squeeze her in a side-hug.

A light layer of snow blankets the dewy morning grass. Everyone is standing, hundreds in attendance to pay their respects, and I only feel like a special invitee because I can see the gravesite. I’m not two or three rows behind friends-of-friends and other security.

I am on-duty though. Had to keep the press and paparazzi out of the cemetery, but I managed to sneak up to the front to be beside Luna. I’m Epsilon—been that way for three days—and my fellow SFE brethren are looking at me like I deserve to be shoved in the hole. O’Malley, most especially.

I meet the intensity of his glare with one of my own.

Fuck him.

My blood courses hatefully, and I despise this feeling. I want to release it, but after all that’s happened, I can’t figure out how. I’m afraid to live inside hatred, maybe more than I am to live inside the past.

I glance back down at Luna—she’s worth everything. She’s my everything. But I’m still partially in her world. One foot in, one foot out. Like with a big enough gust of wind, I could be blown away from her.

She springs on her tiptoes to whisper to me, “It kinda feels like we’re being stared at.”

I dip my head to whisper back, “Accurate assessment, I’d say. They’re probably just jealous.”

“Uh-huh,” she says, her voice tense.

We both know they’re not envious of the hell we’ve been going through. No one in their right mind would be.

They’re also not envious of what happened to us three days ago—the same day we learned a Calloway died. Also known as the day another member of Luna’s family walked in on me giving her head. History repeats itself in strange ways, and I don’t know what it says about me that this happened yet again.

What didn’t repeat: Keeping it under wraps.

Her entire family got wind of it today. Hence, being eyeballed during the funeral like we’re the ones in the casket.

I’d say we already had some metaphorical or spiritual death of sorts, but it’s not that easy to put me to rest.

THREE DAYS EARLIER

2

PAUL DONNELLY

“Let’s go, my furry friends.” Arkham and Orion lead the way into the Hale House. While Luna, Maximoff, and Farrow talk on the front lawn about the sudden death in the family, I give them a minute to themselves. Letting the Hales have this family moment. So I offered to bring the dogs inside.

Boxes of Christmas lights are on the front brick porch. I’d been stringing them on the roof before Maximoff dropped the bad news. I collect my phone and radio nearby, in a bit of a daze.

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Advertisement Misfits Like Us (Like Us #12) Read Online Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie http://www.books2020.com/misfits-like-us-like-us-12-read-online-krista-ritchie-becca-ritchie Sun, 30 Jul 2023 16:01:08 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/misfits-like-us-like-us-12-read-online-krista-ritchie-becca-ritchie Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire Authors: Becca Ritchie, Krista Ritchie Series: Becca Ritchie
Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
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Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 174544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)

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29-year-old Paul Donnelly has been many things in his life. Son of addicts, high school dropout, tattooist, the shameless bodyguard to Beckett Cobalt, the "bodyguard camp counselor" to the rookies of SFO, Loren Hale's nemesis, and Xander's wise one.
But nothing means as much without Luna Hale. The sci-fi-loving writer. A weirdo. Sister to his client. The only one he's fallen for.
To be with Luna, he has to ensure it's totally, completely, unmistakably safe. That starts with taking care of his family-the family he walked away from as a teenager.
He knows he'll survive. He can survive anything. But this time, he just wants to survive with her.
Take an epic cosmic journey with Luna & Donnelly through heartache, hope, darkness, love, and an unceasing light-where the bonds we make are what power us through time.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

PART ONE

“The will to win and the power of war are given by the dark side—or, as dawn throws back the night…they are given by the light!”

- Tales of the Jedi: Knights of the Old Republic (Ulic Qel-Droma and the Beast Wars of Onderon #1)

1

LUNA HALE

If I could stay on the shingled roof for another lightyear, I would. I’d never unplant my butt from this very spot. I’d just wait here until my dad changes his mind and gives Donnelly permission to date me.

I think I have a better chance of rotting away on the roof.

Donnelly has disappeared into the dark of my parents’ backyard. After fighting to see the last outline of his body, he’s just…gone. Instead of glancing up at the twinkling stars, I gaze down at the sketch he just drew for me.

Black pen bleeds into the ripped paper: him and me kissing among whirling planets and stars, all fancifully drawn in one continuous line. Like we’re forever connected to the galaxy of our dreams. I clutch the sketch protectively. It’s the embodiment of us. Of what we could be.

Of what I hope we will be.

I hate that it still feels so out of reach. Like this happily ever after version of us lives in another timeline. But I know what Donnelly would say. I can practically feel the warmth of him beside me, murmuring the loving words against the pit of my ear.

“Believe with me.”

I whisper in the night, “I want to.” Oh, how I want to. The cynical pieces of me struggle to cling on to that light. Reality is darker. Sadder. Bleaker.

I try to take a breath. The savory smell of meatloaf wafts through my open window. Joining a family dinner is the last thing I feel like doing. An ache has blossomed in my chest, and I don’t know how to temper the pain other than to transplant it with anger.

We didn’t need my dad’s permission to date. Not really.

Donnelly and I are both adults. We’re not stuck in some medieval romance where he has to beg the king to wed the princess. It’s not like that at all. Though, here on this planet, I am considered an American princess. Fame and media are usually the bigger considerations when dating anyone.

How much privacy will they lose?

How much media attention will I gain dating so-and-so?

Will the public hate them or love them?

We haven’t even breached that stage of deliberation. We’re trapped in the beginning.

I do understand that Donnelly wants this to be easier for both of us, and that means having my dad on our side. It’s a rational plan. A good plan.

Especially if my dad’s hatred of Donnelly somehow becomes a headline: Loren Hale Disapproves of Daughter’s New Boyfriend! I could see the press eating up the rivalry like it’s a seven-course meal.

I just hate this shitty outcome where my dad told Donnelly to live in purgatory until his family is no longer a threat. Tears prick my eyes. Because I know, deep down, that Donnelly’s family might always be a threat. And what then?

We’ll never be together.

“Luna?!” my sister calls out. “Mom told me to come get you for dinner!”

With the sketch in my fingers, I hug my knees to my chest and blink repeatedly to keep the waterworks at bay. My throat swells too much to talk.

“Luna?!” Kinney’s voice grows louder. I imagine she’s walking deeper into my room. “Are you on the roof? You’re not trying to get beamed up again, are you?” There’s a sharpness to her voice like she thinks the idea is completely absurd.

Some of my very first trips to my roof were in pursuit of being taken away by extraterrestrial life. By you, unearthly reader. Not only to see a new planet. New galaxy. But I felt like the only way to escape my problems was to leave this planet. The idea of being kidnapped and swept away somewhere better had this dark allure.

I guess it doesn’t seem as cool now.

Donnelly probably wouldn’t be beamed up with me, and I don’t really want to live on a planet where he’s not there.

“Luna, did you hear me?” Kinney steps closer to my window and sticks half her body outside.

I turn my head a fraction, and her narrowed green eyes fix on mine. Dyed black hair is chopped at her collarbones, bangs shading her brows.

“The aliens aren’t coming for you,” she deadpans. “But if you fall off the roof, you will turn into a ghost.”

She sounds so much like our dad. It just enlarges a rock in my esophagus. Words are lodged.

“I’ll be down in a sec,” I say so quietly. I’m unsure if she hears.

Her black-painted lips draw into a thin line, and her vexed expression is riddled with blistering concern. Kinney wears worry like a dress made of razor blades. Unapproachable, untouchable. It’s as hard for me to near her as it’d be for any enemy.

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Advertisement Misfits Like Us (Like Us #11) Read Online Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie http://www.books2020.com/misfits-like-us-like-us-11-read-online-krista-ritchie-becca-ritchie Wed, 10 Aug 2022 01:10:01 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/misfits-like-us-like-us-11-read-online-krista-ritchie-becca-ritchie Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Romance Authors: Becca Ritchie, Krista Ritchie Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
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Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 132933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >135

Read Online Books/Novels:	Misfits Like Us (Like Us #11)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie
Language:	English
Book Information:
As the eldest daughter of famous parents, Luna Hale is anything but normal. She escapes most days inside the fandoms she loves and the fics she writes, and she’s accepted that real life just sucks more than fiction. But there is someone who could rival every swoony man inside her imagination. And he only lives three floors below her. Too bad he’s incredibly off-limits. Her brother’s bodyguard, eight years older (okay, sometimes, nine), and the son of meth addicts—the tattooed, shameless bodyguard is the only one her dad really hates. But Luna isn’t sure exactly why. She’s trying not to be hung up on him. Paul Donnelly is trying not to be hung up on her. With his life among the security team and his friends at stake, he doesn’t need to make waves among the Hales, especially the notoriously overprotective Loren Hale, the self-proclaimed Emperor of Petty. But when Donnelly’s two best friends set a time and place for a double—no, a “triple” date—the countdown to finding a date is on. Donnelly has no idea who he should bring. He just knows it can’t be her. Luna finds herself in the same predicament as bad luck unfolds. Find a date. And it can’t be him. Yet, the more they try to stay away, the more the universe has other plans. Nowhere in Luna’s wildest imagination could she have predicted what happens next. The slow burn heartache, feel-good fandom chats, lifelong friendships, and epic cosmic love of this next installment in the Like Us series will send your hearts into orbit with Luna & Donnelly, and you won’t want to make a landing without them. The Like Us series is a true series, one continuous timeline, that follows a family of wealthy celebrities and the people that protect them.
Books in Series:	Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Books by Author:	Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie

1

PAUL DONNELLY

SEPTEMBER

Life isn’t something complicated to me. Been living for twenty-nine years. Think I can survive for one more. I’ve got that ruthless confidence that makes love to merciless independence, and my head isn’t in the clouds with some over-hyped optimism. I just know if I’m in the dark, I’ll dig my way through shit to find the light.

Self-reliance is the best drug my parents ever gave me.

Elbowing the front door shut, I’m quiet as I enter the Philly house. Eight bedrooms. Plenty of bathrooms. House is a funny way of saying mansion.

Though, not that many call it one. It’s not swimming in crystals and marble like the Cobalt Estate. It’s cozy with furniture you’d see in family sitcoms. Shelves aren’t stocked with first edition novels in different languages. Just comics.

Lots and lots of comics.

It’s still strange being here and not with the Cobalt Empire. I protected two Cobalt brothers before I was assigned to protect a Hale. Thought I’d be assigned to every Cobalt before I was put on a Hale’s detail.

Mainly because of their dad.

Mostly because of him.

Goals—I make them often. Most people probably think I have none. But I got ‘em.

Goal: Don’t run into Loren Hale.

It’s Friday. I’ve succeeded all week. I deserve a cheesecake, thank you very much. Might go get one tonight. What’s stopping me?

Her dad.

I push back the nagging thought. He’s not stopping me from eating cheesecake. He’s not. And no one likes a nag. The kind that poke at your brain and make you rethink yourself at every turn—those gotta be the worst. I don’t like rethinking everything.

I just like doing.

“I’m at the Hale House. Where you at?” I ask in a whisper, phone propped to my ear with my shoulder. It’s the ear without the tactical earpiece. My hands are full of Earth’s greatest nectar.

Wawa coffee.

Two steaming to-go cups warm my palms.

“New York. Trying not to wake up my baby sister,” Oscar tells me quietly and spits in the sink, probably brushing his teeth this early a.m.

“Need some diapers?” I ask lightly, a grin forming. I hear his grunt, like he wants to retort but can’t with a mouth full of toothpaste, so I go on. “Gotta get the pureed chicken and gravy for your baby, man. Can’t let her starve. Only the best for Baby Jo.”

He mumbles out, “You have recent experience eating baby food?”

“Nah, that shit’s expensive.” I did once look up the cost of baby food. When I thought I got a girl pregnant. Baby wasn’t mine. Didn’t even sleep with her. Turns out, the baby belonged to my uncle in prison, and now that baby has been adopted by Farrow and Maximoff Hale.

Life does have happy endings that way. I have to believe in them. Or else what’s the point, right? Some great endings just take an arm or a leg to reach.

I hear the faucet.

Oscar spits again. “You say any of that around Jo and she’ll have your nuts rolling on the floor ten-feet away from your dick, and I’ll watch and laugh.”

I will too. “Sounds like your sister just wants in my pants.”

“No, no, no. Sister jokes are officially off-limits. Legitimately, you’ve met your quota, which should be zero.” I don’t usually bring Joana into things.

“All I’m saying is she’s not a baby. Isn’t she twenty-one?”

“Almost.”

I know her birthday is in the fall. Late October. Next month, actually. I try not to forget things like that when it comes to the people who matter to me. Oscar matters. Which means so does his almost twenty-one-year-old sister.

“And she’ll always be my baby sister to me,” Oscar concludes.

“Yeah, I know.” Even though I’m an only child, I understand the power and bond of a sibling. And not just because I’m surrounded by families.

Families that I’m dedicated to protecting.

While I walk through the Hales’ foyer, I’m still trying not to be loud. So I don’t ask much about Joana living at his Hell’s Kitchen studio, which security (aka Akara Kitsuwon) pays for. I’m guessing she’s not moving out anytime soon. Free place to crash. Extra time spent with her big bro.

Who would leave?

Oscar is at his studio only when Charlie Cobalt is in New York, and then when Charlie is here, Oscar stays at the Philly apartment he owns with his husband, Jack.

The life I lived in New York, rooming with Oscar and protecting Beckett Cobalt while he protected Charlie, that doesn’t even feel that long ago. Though, I know it’s been almost two years.

In two years, my best friends both got married.

Amazing things.

And then the bad:

In two years, I wiped out my bank account for an uncle that I don’t even like.

In two years, I’ve sleepwalked more than I have in the past ten.

In two years, I haven’t been able to stop thinkin’ about her.

Fuck me, right?

Oscar keeps chatting. “I have ten minutes before I go chase Charlie around Manhattan with my husband.” I heard Jack is filming some kind of travel project for Charlie while We Are Calloway is in post-production. Editors are tweaking the Summer Olympic footage for the newest season.

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Advertisement Infamous Like Us (Like Us #10) Read Online Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie http://www.books2020.com/infamous-like-us-like-us-10-read-online-krista-ritchie-becca-ritchie Thu, 21 Oct 2021 00:11:58 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/infamous-like-us-like-us-10-read-online-krista-ritchie-becca-ritchie Genre: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance, Sports Authors: Becca Ritchie, Krista Ritchie Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
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Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 162567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 813(@200wpm)___ 650(@250wpm)___ 542(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >162

Read Online Books/Novels:	Infamous Like Us (Like Us #10)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B08M499P5C
Book Information:
22-year-old Sullivan Meadows knew dating Akara & Banks would be complicated, but now that her relationship is public, everything has been put on blast: @HeatherB: Can’t believe Sullivan Meadows is dating TWO men and they’re like all together. Like OMG. Totally didn’t think the rumors were true. @YuiK: anyone know what happened to Sullivan Meadows? News is saying something bad went down. Seems bad. @PaulieP: Why is there no reporting on the thing that “allegedly” happened to that Meadows girl? They aren’t saying whether her boyfriends were there??? @TiffanyW: Y’all I can’t with Sullivan’s boyfriends. They just sandwiched her in PUBLIC to avoid cameras lmao @RiverT: Banks Moretti & Akara Kitsuwon are totally banging. I don’t make the rules @CarlaR: OMGOMGOMG Sullivan Meadows qualified for the Olympics! THIS IS NOT A DRILL! @LacieA: Celebrity Crush is saying ALL the families will be at the Olympics to root for Sullivan. Im dead #HalesMeadowsCobalts @GeorgieO: Dude no way she wins a gold medal. Sulli the Slut is too busy screwing anything that walks @VenusQ: I bet her boyfriends will distract her. Last Olympics, she was single. This one, she’s a MESS. Messiness isn’t getting gold #sorrynotsorry With danger, Olympics, and unexpected life twists on the horizon for Akara, Sulli, and Banks, the only way out of the rising tide is to swim harder. Infamous Like Us is an MFM Romance and Book 10 in the Like Us Series.
Books in Series:	Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Books by Author:	Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie

1

SULLIVAN MEADOWS

Fireworks blast off into the California night sky. I don’t see colorful bursts of light, but the noise thunders around me and vibrates the ground. Even the bathroom stall rattles from the cacophony—a very real reminder that I shouldn’t be squandering my time here on this fucking toilet.

Or as Banks calls it—a shitter.

My lips rise as soon as I think about one of my boyfriends. Boyfriends. Not such a bizarre fucking concept anymore. At least to me. I’ve lost a lot of faith that the world will ever understand. I told Akara that I bet they’d only approve if I died.

In my death, they’d accept my love of two men because I’d be gone and there’d be nothing left to criticize or hate. Or maybe they’d just keep on hating.

We’re not letting anyone get to us, Akara reminded me. It’s been our motto since we confirmed our relationship to the world.

We’re not letting anyone get to us.

They won’t break us apart.

They won’t hurt us.

They won’t win.

I’m fucking competitive, but I never imagined the harder race would be against anonymous faces and internet hatred than swimming an actual Olympic event.

They won’t hurt us.

But fuck, does it hurt some days. Thick skin comes and goes like armor I’m renting from the Cobalt Empire, but Moffy says that the painful parts just make me human. Jane says Cobalts hurt too.

Beckett tells me not to worry—that all my family are here for me. And they are. Literally. Cousins, aunts, uncles, plus my mom, dad, and sister are in the packed stands somewhere outside this bathroom. Even Beckett, my notoriously busy best friend, has taken a couple weeks off ballet to cheer me on.

And here I am, holed up in a fucking toilet stall. Hoping my current mega-crisis will shrink to a mini-one. My pulse climbs, knees jostle. Boom!

I flinch.

Another firework bursts.

And then another.

It’s just a firework.

It’s just a fucking firework.

I blow out a measured breath and try to let my pulse decelerate. We arrived in Los Angeles over a week ago to frenzied crowds, aggressive paparazzi—more pushing and pulling—and I want to blame this fucking city for the extra mayhem, the extra stress, the invasive questions and blistering spotlight.

But it hasn’t just been a week of fame I can’t escape, can’t circumvent, can’t outwit, outplay, or outlast.

It’s been six months.

Six months since I climbed into my childhood treehouse with my boyfriends. Six months since I announced to the world that I’m in a poly relationship with two bodyguards.

Six months since everything changed.

Sitting on the shut toilet lid, more worry crawls under my skin, but the source isn’t from brash noises or impending danger.

Nerves swarm me as I stare hard at the slim white pregnancy test in my hand.

Boom!

I jerk my neck. You’re safe. You’re fine, Sulli. Fireworks are like a ticking clock, telling me I need to hurry. I need to go. Join the festivities.

Delight in all the hard work that brought me here.

The Summer Olympics.

Be with my boyfriends, who are no doubt a little fucking freaked out that I’m taking so long. But I can’t leave until I have this one answer.

“Sulli, get your fucking shit together,” I coach under my breath. My legs jostle more as I stare hard at the test.

I already pissed on the stick and recapped it.

Thirty-seconds through the 5-minute wait, and I swear I’m already sweating through this thick navy Ralph Lauren blazer.

“It’s the Opening Ceremony to the fucking Olympics,” I whisper. “And you’re in a bathroom talking to yourself while you wait for…” I can’t finish the words.

Not that I think someone will overhear. Akara and Banks searched the bathroom stalls before I even entered. All clear. Now my boyfriends stand guard outside the door, and my stomach is in knots.

I check my watch. “Three more minutes,” I say to myself. Hearing my own voice calms me a bit more. Noise is a constant background whenever I’m in public, and I haven’t been swimming in this much quiet during make-it-or-break-it, stress-induced situations in a while.

I could call Akara or Banks in here.

To wait with me. To be a shoulder to lean on. To comfort me. They both would. But here’s the fucking thing: I haven’t told them.

When I realized I missed my period recently, I didn’t want to bring up the issue to Akara or Banks. We already had one scare months ago after the condom ripped. And fuck, we’ve been careful since that slip-up at the end of January. I took Plan B. I got my period.

Not pregnant.

Now it’s the tail-end of July, and I’m in a worse situation. Too late for Plan B. A pregnancy test in hand.

The Olympics literally starting now.

Even buying a pregnancy test took Harry Potter levels of sorcery—exactly what Luna said to me when she slipped the pregnancy stick in my pocket like a badass James Bond.

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Advertisement Fearless Like Us (Like Us #9) Read Online Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie http://www.books2020.com/fearless-like-us-like-us-9-read-online-krista-ritchie-becca-ritchie Sat, 29 May 2021 22:37:25 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/fearless-like-us-like-us-9-read-online-krista-ritchie-becca-ritchie Genre: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance Authors: Becca Ritchie, Krista Ritchie Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
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Total pages in book: 170
Estimated words: 168980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 845(@200wpm)___ 676(@250wpm)___ 563(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Fearless Like Us (Like Us #9)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B08M49GW63
Book Information:
Twenty-one-year-old Sullivan Meadows just unleashed the biggest bomb-drop on her overprotective dad. She's dating a ruggedly handsome Banks Moretti and a swoon-worthy hot Akara Kitsuwon. Two men. Two bodyguards. One polyamorous relationship. Nothing can prepare Sulli for her dad's hot-tempered reaction. And the fallout isn't the only explosion Sulli, Akara, and Banks are facing. More family drama leaves them at odds with people they love, and Sulli finds herself striving to prove that she's all grown up. Her determination comes at--knock knock. The Royal Leaks are here. We reveal all the truths about the American Royals. These are verified and come directly from the source. No American Royal is safe. ROYAL LEAK #1: We know everything. Fearless Like Us is an MFM Romance and Book 9 in the Like Us Series.
Books in Series:	Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Books by Author:	Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie

Character List

Not all characters in this list will make an appearance in the book, but most will be mentioned.

Ages represent the age of the character at the beginning of the book. Some characters will be older when they’re introduced, depending on their birthday.

THE MEADOWS

Ryke Meadows & Daisy Calloway

Sullivan – 21

Winona – 15

THE COBALTS

Richard Connor Cobalt & Rose Calloway

Jane – 24

Charlie – 22

Beckett – 22

Eliot – 20

Tom – 19

Ben – 17

Audrey – 14

THE HALES

Loren Hale & Lily Calloway

Maximoff – 24

Luna – 19

Xander – 16

Kinney – 15

THE ABBEYS

Garrison Abbey & Willow Hale

Vada – 15

THE SECURITY TEAM

These are the bodyguards that protect the Cobalts, Hales, and Meadows.

Kitsuwon Securities Inc.

Security Force Omega

Akara Kitsuwon (boss) – 27

Thatcher Moretti (lead) – 29

Banks Moretti – 29

Farrow Hale – 29

Oscar Highland-Oliveira – 32

Quinn Oliveira – 22

Paul Donnelly – 28

Gabe Montgomery – 22

Price Kepler’s Triple Shield Services

Security Force Epsilon

Jon Sinclair (lead) – 40s

Greer Bell – 30s

…and more

Security Force Alpha

Price Kepler (lead) – 40s

Wylie Jones – 40s

Tony Ramella – 29

…and more

1

SULLIVAN MEADOWS

So, Dad, I’d like you to meet my boyfriends. Akara Kitsuwon and Banks Moretti.

Those words hang in the air like the smoke cloud after a bomb drop. I can’t close my eyes. Can’t look away from my dad whose brows furrow in utter fucking confusion. Before I have a chance to explain—like really fucking explain—he speaks.

“I didn’t hear you fucking right, Sul,” he says. “Say it again.”

Oh fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

How am I supposed to say this twice?!

My mouth dries, and I instinctively look behind me at Akara, who usually comes in with the save. When words fail me in social settings, he takes over…but usually not with my dad.

Usually, I can manage to form some kind of coherent sentence in front of him. My dad is the last person to really care when I struggle to say what I mean, so typically, I try to reach the point. Fucks and all. But his intensity right now, in this moment, is setting my feet on fire.

I want to run away, but I stay still and let the heat scorch my soles.

Akara picks up my distress signal, then looks to my dad. “Ryke—”

“Wait, let her fucking talk.” He zeroes in on me. “Sul?”

God, my dad is so fucking intense.

Feel the moment.

Yeah, feel the fucking moment—what was I thinking?! There is no back-peddling, no laughing this off with poorly placed dick jokes. Swimming forward is all that makes sense, and I hope the man who taught me to float as a baby isn’t about to see me drown as an adult.

And if Akara and Banks wished I didn’t explode this news to my dad first, I can’t tell. All of us are stopped at the base of the rock face, and they remain completely guarded, like they’re on-duty about to protect me from an enraged horde of so-called fans.

Only that horde is one person, and I’m hoping with everything in my soul and body that he’s not soon-to-be enraged.

“Um…” I have two fingers to my lips, lost in contemplation, and I drop my arm fast. “Fuck…so what I said was, I’d like you to meet my boyfriends.” I wave my hand from Akara to Banks, like this needs actual physical indication of what I mean.

His death-stare burns into Akara, then Banks, with more confusion than anger, I think. And I’m also hoping. Please, fucking please.

“Boyfriends?” He shakes his head, brows knotting. “I don’t…fucking understand.”

“The three of us are together,” I say quickly, my pulse speeding out of fucking control.

His confusion is setting me on the cliff’s edge—the one that we just climbed in the quarry. Like I’m no longer grounded. Like I’m falling forward without a harness. I wonder if my dad feels the exact same.

Like he’s being pushed off the same cliff.

By me.

He holds up a hand. “Wait, so you’re with Akara?” He shifts his weight, an angry fucking shift. He runs his hand aggressively across his scruffy jaw. His eyes nail into Akara. Both men are unblinking.

“Dad, Dad,” I call out until he looks at me. Once he does, I tell him clearly, “I’m also with Banks.”

He tries to shake his head, but the movement is cemented. His neck is tight. “What?” His face hardens to stone. “What the fuck, you can’t…you’re…” He exhales roughly, painfully. “You’re fucking with me. The three of you are playing some fucking practical joke on me.” He’s waiting for one of us to jump out with the punchline.

Banks hangs his head slightly so he’s not towering over my dad. But his eyes lift up with his brows as he tells him, “We’re not joking, sir.”

Without falter, Akara adds, “Sulli is telling you the truth.”

My dad is barely breathing. His carriage is barely rising. He’s just rock burning from within, and he turns to me. “This better be a joke, Sulli.”

Hurt builds pressure on my chest. “You know me better than that,” I say. “I would never make this into a fucking joke.” Winona, maybe. She likes trying to get a rise out of him. But me?

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