Headstrong Like Us Read online Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie (Like Us #6)

Categories Genre: GLBT, M-M Romance, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: , Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
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Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 136029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
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I’m not afraid.

“I’ll go first,” I tell Farrow.

He nods, an amused grin spreading. “I’ll let you.”

I still can’t help it, I smile. “Thanks for that.”

“Anytime.”

A light chuckle breezes through the guests, and then Farrow rubs water off his face, eyelashes collecting beads, and he looks me over more seriously. Surprise shoots up his brows. “You didn’t write it down?” he asks under his breath.

Another bolt flashes, and rain descends heavier again. I tell him, “I’ve learned a thing or two from some guy I know.”

“Some guy,” he repeats.

“Yeah.” I nod. “Don’t overthink it. Just say what I feel, what comes to mind.”

He lets out a breath. Raw fondness spindles between us.

I brush water out of my eyes. “I’m going to quote a philosopher, just to warn you, man,” I say softly.

Farrow’s gaze sinks into me. “I was hoping you would.”

Goddamn.

My eyes burn, and I blink back tears. I think about Plato, and I say, “‘Love is born into every human being: it calls back the halves of our original nature together; it tries to make one out of two and heal the wound of human nature.’—I never understood this quote until I met you. Until you filled the incomplete parts of me.” Tears surge up and drip down my jaw, mixing with rainwater. “I was empty. So empty, and I didn’t even know it, Farrow.” That strikes me. How I could’ve gone my whole life without him. Without knowing what this feels like.

I can’t stop crying. I don’t want to. “You’re the person that my soul has been searching for because my head was too stubborn to do it.”

He smiles, a wide breathtaking one. Emotion digs into my chest.

“Farrow, I love you.” Lightning cracks the sky, and I’m not sure he heard me. So I scream it, “I love you!”

His grin practically explodes. “I love you, too.”

Our knees knock together, foreheads almost touching, and I whisper, “Your turn.”

He laughs into a smile. “Wolf scout.” His reddened eyes stroke my features. “You said that you didn’t know how empty you felt until you met me.” His fingers tighten on mine.

I hold on, realizing this is completely off the cuff. Didn’t expect anything less.

His gaze bores into me. “Well, I’ve been searching for you my entire life, and if someone told me that we’d been together before, in another time or place, I wouldn’t question them. I’ve longed for you before I even knew you, and now that I’ve found you, there’s not a single day I want to live without you.”

I’m crying.

He’s crying. “Your love is the most precious, valuable thing to me on the face of this fucking world, and I’ll love you today, tomorrow, and decades longer. When we’re old men and smiling about yesterdays, I’ll still love you and your pure heart and your good soul.”

I nod a lot, our chests pressed close, rising together in heavy breath, and I barely hear Oscar tell us to exchange rings.

Drenched, Farrow pushes back my sopping hair, and I’m a maple tree. Officially. Sap has become me. I push back his hair. I sniff a bit, I don’t know why—I’m already soaked with tears and rain.

I pull the black tungsten band off my finger, the one I’ve been safekeeping. The one I’ve worn for almost a whole year.

Farrow pulls the gray, grooved titanium band off his finger, the one he’s been safekeeping. The one he’s worn for almost a whole year.

He’s faster and takes my shaking palm. He helps steady my hand. “This is yours, wolf scout.” His eyes are on me while I watch him slowly slide the warm band onto my finger. Rainwater beads up on the ring.

My breath hitches, and I’m about to take his hand in mine. But he squeezes his left fingers in a fist first, trying to ease the quake. Seeing him emotional just amplifies my fucking emotions.

I hold his left hand firmly. Steadying his fingers like he steadied mine. I wait a second. Just a second, and out loud, I say the words etched on the inside of the ring, “Dum spiro, spero.”

He wipes his eyes with his right hand, overcome.

Dum spiro, spero. While I breathe, I hope.

I slip the black band on his tattooed finger, and as soon as I finish, Oscar declares, “By the powers vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and husband.”

I don’t hear anything else.

Farrow’s hand is on the back of my neck. Mine on his, and we unite in a soul-bearing kiss. All around us is clapping and lightning and thunder.

And I’d like to think Plato was right. That in the beginning of time, it was Farrow and me, and we were once whole together. Our souls united. But like all humans, we were split down the middle. Separate halves wandering around this universe.

We found each other.

And finally, together, we became whole again.


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