Infamous Like Us (Like Us #10) Read Online Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie

Categories Genre: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: , 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)
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I push my hair back a million times. Smelling bacon and pie from the kitchen. Pots clanking together. Coffee steams from four cups, and Sulli gazes at a plate of sugared donuts.

No one has touched the donuts in the three minutes they’ve been sitting there.

“You can eat,” I tell her.

Sulli doesn’t move, but her gaze pins to me in concern. “Kits…I think that was the first thing you’ve said in hours.”

Was it?

It’s okay, Nine.

It’s not.

She’s gone—and she didn’t tell me. And I’m mad.

Mad that I didn’t get to say goodbye. Mad that she wouldn’t let me.

I tense more. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.” My words sound hollowed and bitter, and I wince. “No, I know what I want to say, and it’s not going to be great—so I should just keep my mouth shut.”

Banks chews on a toothpick. “That’s the last fuckin’ thing you should do. It feels better once it’s out.” I remember the concert, how he told me about Skylar, and how weightless he seemed—and that seems so unattainable for me right now.

I’m fixed in anger.

Shit, I don’t want to be mad. Especially not at her.

She’s gone.

I remember the phone call again. I hadn’t braced myself for the impact, and the sheer blindside feels almost like…betrayal. I fight back hot tears. “She could have called. Could have told me that she was getting worse. Then maybe…”

What?

She didn’t want me to visit her. I tried. She knew I would’ve dropped everything for her. I would have missed the Olympics for her. I would have missed the proposal for her. I would have dropped my life to be with her.

She knew that, Nine. I let my dad’s voice in again, comforting me.

“She knew that,” I whisper out loud. “She knew I’d leave my life behind to be with her. That’s why she didn’t want me to see her. I would’ve known she was getting worse.” I glare at the ceiling. “The least she could have done is let me say goodbye.”

Sulli reaches out for my hand. I let her take it, feeling her thumb glide softly over my knuckles. “Maybe it was too hard for her. Or maybe she knew it would be too hard for you.”

Frog nods in agreement. “Auntie Mint was like that. She was always looking out for everyone else. Even…me.” Her face falls. She runs a finger around the rim of her coffee cup. “She was a kickass woman. Literally. She kicked my ass multiple times during training.”

Something aches in my chest. It feels like grief, but I don’t want to let it in. “Yeah?”

She nods. “Frog, your teep kick is so weak.” She mimics my mom perfectly, with some New York bluntness.

Memories flood that I try to shut. “She used to tell me the same thing.”

“I know,” Frog says. “She’d talk about you a lot. How she trained you too. How proud she was of everything you accomplished. She kept saying how lucky I was to have you as a mentor.” She nods over and over. Eyes glassing as she drills her gaze into her coffee.

My own eyes feel raw even without tears in them. With my free hand, I rub at them. My other hand, I keep tight in Sulli’s. “Can we talk about anything else?” I ask under my breath.

Banks nods to Frog. “I’ve been meaning to ask about your nickname.”

Frog removes her gaze off her coffee, and I’m glad to see her smile. At the funeral, I wasn’t the only one looking lost and alone. I realize quickly she wasn’t friendly with anyone there other than her parents and us. In fact, our cousins kept staring at her like she had a scarlet letter on her dress.

“My dad loves the old traditional Thai superstitions,” she tells him. “A lot like Akara’s dad.” She tips her head to me with a soft smile. “Anyway, there’s an old folktale that evil spirits are always on the prowl for newborns, so unconventional nicknames are used to trick them. No evil spirits want a frog. Even cute little green ones.” She rips open a sugar packet. “My mom isn’t Thai, but she loves the nickname the most.” She smiles, thinking about her mom who I know she misses, then she winces at me. “Sorry, is that insensitive?”

“What? Talking about your mom because I just lost mine.” I put a hand to my chest. “I’m not that sensitive, Frog.”

She sees that it’s fine. “Okay, good.” She exhales. “I mean, you can be sensitive. Cry if you need to.”

“Tears aren’t coming.” I sound like an ass. I grimace. “They’re just dried up.” If I could cry, I would, but I’m wrestling with so many feelings.

Frog rests her temple on her fist, turned towards me. “You know my dad always gave your dad shit about your nickname.”



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