Tangled Like Us (Like Us, #4)

by Krista Ritchie

My mom is a brilliant, ball-busting woman who takes no shit from anyone, especially not from her husband. My dad acts like her rival, but they’re equals in every way, shape, and form. I love them dearly.

Six years later and he’s still one of the few people who tongue-tie me.

I understand the rawness of painful moments that, without realizing, soon become painful pasts. Most of the time too sore to touch or talk about.

Words aren’t my strong suit, but I’m here.

Speaking with so much heart—there’s never any question how much she means what she says.

I’ve learned to love my body. Because it’s mine and there is only one of 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.

Thatcher. Thatcher. Thatcher. His name is a heartbeat in my head.

“I’d do anything to keep you safe, Jane,”

I’m honored that I get to be the one to keep her safe.

“You’re meant to be in my arms, Jane.”

Her ability to be comfortable in her own skin—it’s gorgeous.

Most people find my constant chatter grating after a while, but he makes me feel so very desired. And safe. And terribly beautiful.

“I didn’t want to be anywhere else that night but next to you.”

There are so few people I trust in the world, and since we learned to talk, Maximoff and I shared everything.

You being comfortable enough to say what’s on your mind in front of me—and to me—is something I don’t take for granted.”

You’re safe with me, honey. That’s a lasting promise I’ll always make.

But I’m here. Beside her. And there’s really nowhere else I want to be.

“Ensemble,” I tell him. Together. All four of my brothers repeat the word. And then Eliot grins, mischievous twinkle in his eye, and he says something I’ve heard him recite a thousand-and-one times. But tonight, it’s never felt truer. “‘Let me play the lion too…I will roar.’”

There aren’t many people that get off on other people’s happiness. Other people’s interests. Jane is that rare kind of person.

you don’t know me and you sure as fucking hell don’t know my type. If you did, you’d realize it’s the girl right next to me.”

I’ve compartmentalized so much of my fucking life in order to push through. Built walls that I can’t even break down. But I think compassion deserves compassion, and I want to be deserving of her.

It’s my honor to be with you in everything.