Sinful Like Us (Like Us, #5)

by Krista Ritchie

I can barely blink, and I can almost feel her curious hands sliding across my waist. I can almost see her rising smile peek around my body, and her chin perched on my side. Her eyes glimmering up at me with uncommon strength. I want to turn around and lift her in my arms. To press my forehead to her forehead and stare into the bluest depths of her gaze. But she’s not here. She’s back at the townhouse. The sound of a leaking shower bleeds into the quiet. Drip. Drip. Drip. It drives me insane. I scrape a palm down my wet face. My hand is shaking. Christ, I just want to hear her voice. I should compartmentalize my feelings and shove off. But I pull my phone out of my pocket. Without much thought, I’m calling Jane. Like this is an ingrained reaction. Jane picks up on the second ring. “Thatcher? Is the meeting already over?” I can’t move. I stare at the faucet. “Thatcher?” Her voice pitches in worry. “It hasn’t started yet.” I grip the sink with one hand and swallow a rock. And then I rehash everything that happened with the team. I promised myself I’d never hit another bodyguard, and even if I was provoked, I shouldn’t have pushed O’Malley. With every word I say out loud, I’m sure that I’m painting myself as the biggest villain. “It’s good that he got a punch in,” I continue. “I just don’t want my brother in the middle of it.” I don’t want her in the middle of it either. But she’s on the phone, and I don’t want to hang up. I just want to hear her. “You don’t deserve to be punc...