Nobody Like Us (Like Us #13)

by Krista Ritchie

Yeah, I want to fuck her, but shouldn’t Lo be treating me different somehow? The way he’s been talking, he’s lumping me in with all the guys who could possibly date Luna, as if I’m just a mile marker on the road and not the destination.

“I’ll give you a hint.” I bow forward, hanging my arms on my bent knees. “It’s in the top five greatest places on my planet.”

Luna hasn’t emerged fully in the room. I only see her cute round face. Her amber eyes are sweeping me in slow, meticulous strokes. As though engraining the surface and depth of me for future memory.

“Your arms,” she says. Another smile edges across my mouth. “My top five,” I clarify. “Not yours.” “Your arms are likely the greatest place to be for lots of humans,” L...

I’ve never had someone believe in my worth the way that Luna does, and she’s staring at me with the same bottomless love she used to.

“I only care about my arms being the greatest place for you.”

She’d rather go out with me. My head whirls a mile a minute, recalling a talk I had with Luna pre-amnesia. She told me about a past I wasn’t a part of. Where she would sneak out. Where she would ditch her bodyguard. Where she would explore Center City late at night with no friend or family in tow. This time, it’s different. This time, she wants to do everything with me. And she has no clue she’s subconsciously replaying events of her life but including me in them. How do I even tell her? Am I supposed to? Don’t fuck up her recovery.

“Is that a yes? You’re coming?” I slip her a smile. “Beats hanging out here alone.” I snatch my jeans off the floor. “Plus, the blue alligator chick won’t stop staring at me.” Luna sees the X-Men: Days of Future Past poster. “Mystique is an intense bean.” “Think her yellow eyes have been trying to penetrate my soul.”

“In that case, she’s the mutant enemy. No penetration of Donnelly is allowed on my watch.” She crosses her arms in an X formation, the sweatshirt hanging over her shoulder. “You gonna fight her on my behalf?” I grin. “To the very death.” “No dying without me, Hale,” I say seriously and grin wider as she observes, with this adorable pensive expression, how I’m moving across the room.

“Not really, but I won’t tell if you don’t.” “Your secrets are always safe with me,” she says softly. “But maybe too well since I’ve forgotten three years of them.” “Nah, that just makes you the best secret-keeper around.”

She eases back against the seat, then after a minute of silence, she glances at me. “This is my favorite timeline—the one where you exist with me.”

Despite the pain we had to crawl through, all she had to endure with my family, I’d say the timeline where I get to see her smile and blush and hear the brightness of her laugh—that is, and will always be, my favorite.

“He always seemed uncertain of us.” Donnelly frowns. “What do you mean?” I stare off at the road, illuminated by the headlights. “I saw how animated he became around Eliot and Tom and the other Cobalts. Like their futures were glowing embers, something to stoke, something that could burn bright.” I blink, staring at my lap. “But with me and my brothers and sister—it felt like our paths were too dark to even touch.” I look at him.

“We had more chances to become addicts than they did. It just seemed like my grandparents knew we could all fall apart, so they didn’t want to invest in us.” I face the dashboard again. “I can’t really be envious of Eliot and Tom. I think there’s something catastrophic about nurturing a tiny fire into a raging inferno.” I tilt my head to Donnelly. “It’s the ways of the stars: burn too bright and a supernova will explode.”

“That’s just it,” Donnelly professes, eyeing the road, then me. “I was afraid of the unsure thing because I didn’t want to lose, but there’s never been a moment where I haven’t believed in you, Luna.”

If given the chance, wouldn’t most choose to associate with the family that doesn’t remind them of their own dark past? It would’ve been difficult for him to be a part of the Hales. Yet, here he is. Trying to be a part of my family.

“I’d say your species is intuitive and all, but I think that’s just you, Hale.” His quick compliments are some of the sweetest things anyone has ever said to me. “A great and terrible power,” I sing-song. “Never to be used recklessly.” “Unless you’re with me,” he grins. I grin back. “Unless I’m with you.”

“Let’s just say your mom kicked the Crow out of your brother’s wedding.” I’m confused. “The who?” It dawns on him: me not remembering. “Your Grandmother Calloway.” I laugh. “The Crow…who came up with that?” “Yours truly.” He lifts a couple fingers. “I like it. It suits her.” I cross my legs on the seat, and my smile widens picturing my mom ousting the pearl-clutching old lady from the biggest social event of likely that year. “My mom is awesome.” “Best mom around.”

I catch my breath and lift my backpack to my lap, conflicted on whether I should dig out my diary and read more about our past. I could even read it out loud to him…but maybe that’d be weird. He loves weird. He loves me.

Why is my heart still skipping several beats? My brows crinkle. Confusion begone! Mental powers are not working.

It’s the lie he’s supposed to spread around our family. I try to relax my strained shoulders. “What’d they say?” I ask him. “They thought you were a piece of shit. For leading the girl on.” I go blank-faced. “You serious?” “Don’t take it too personally. They act like they’ve got morals, but Kieve’s cheated on his wife about a dozen times in a year. He’d fuck a trashcan if it had a pair of legs.”

We’re dating. What else would I call this trip to a dive bar in the middle of the night? It’s not a casual outing of two friends. I’m taking her to Thirsty Goose with the implication that I might kiss her, might buy her a drink, might even fuck her later…slow down. Fuck me. Navigating the start of a relationship better be the hardest part of one.

She splays a calm hand on my thigh. “With the strength of Thebula, I compel you!” I choke out a sudden laugh. Smiling. I’m smiling. Almost instantly. “What are you compelling me to do?” “To feel better.” She shrugs. “It’s all I have.” I blink back more emotion. “It’s a lot,” I choke out, then clear my throat.

“You ready, space babe? Your universe awaits.” “Ours,” she corrects, opening the door. Our universe. My ruptured heart feels full.

“To Fizzle,” I say. “It’s the foundation of this reality. Without its existence, we’d be living in an alternate universe more shocking than Bizarro World. And…” I cling to his gaze that never shies from me. “I like my here and now.”

He could so easily be wishing and longing and pleading for OG Luna, for the past that was pulverized with her, but he’s been nothing but happy to experience this new beginning with me.

My heart swells ten-times too big, and this pressure inside my ribcage is new. It’s not anxiety or the weight of a burden. It’s a rush of going from empty to being filled to the brim. I could gorge myself on love and be satiated for all-time just being in his presence.

Plus, everything I’ve written doesn’t really have an end. It’s the hardest part, to close something that I just want to live forever.” Donnelly skims my features, then nods. “I get it. I’d be sad if the Thebulan saga ever stopped.”

I guess I never want to erase Original Luna. She’s not only in the diary, but she’s still within me. Somewhere.

“Will you do me?” I ask while tugging off my hoodie. Only in a lime-green tank top, no bra.

“I’ll do you.” His eyes lift to mine. “Carefully.” His deep voice is more hushed, and his glittered fingers slide along my flushed cheek in a slow, sensual stroke. “Gently.”

“What if I don’t want it gently?” I whisper. Donnelly stares into me, and I wish my mind-reading powers kicked in right now. Without much pause, he draws glitter lines across the tops of my breasts, then ascends to my collar, tracing the bone that juts out. And then higher, to the tender nape of my neck. I shudder, almost letting out a moan. He breathes, “Seems like you love gentle.”

“Then why do I fantasize about you grabbing me?” I ask and scoop out glitter from the jar. “Clutching me. Holding me. Hard.”

I skate my glittery fingertips slowly down one side of his face. His blue eyes sink so deep into me, I’d almost believe this is the defini...

“Not unkindly,” I say, and he shuts his eyes as I smear glitter over the lids, then down, closer to his lips. “But possessively. Like you’re the o...

His thumb brushes my eyebrows, then the bridge of my nose, painting me with glitter, and for a second, my aching breath is the only sound I hear. Until he whispers, “You ever feel like you’re falling, it’ll be in my arms.” He speaks against the pit of my ear. “I belong inside you.”

As my hands roam, I’m smearing glitter all over him. On his black shirt. Underneath his tee and on his abs, down his strong biceps. Likewise, he must be coating my cheeks, my hair, my black hoodie. We’re a shimmery, scorching mess, and I couldn’t care less who sees. I just want to be wrapped up in him.

A bold butterfly is tattooed on his abs, but the black moth underneath is more stunning, more vibrant. “The moth is more striking somehow,” I tell him.

“It’s the shading.” He sips the last of his vodka soda and watches me trace the moth. “It could be your true gift,” I whisper. “You have a way of making the darkness emerge into light.” I shrug. “It’s Star Wars stuff.”

“Have I…have I said that before?” I don’t remember. “Never mind.” I’m scared because I really can’t tell, but I glance at the kyber crystal around my neck. Likely, I did tell him. It makes the most sense. “Love your Star Wars thoughts, space babe.

He’s good at lightening the air and making my cavernous brain waves feel more poignant rather than heavy. I think I love him for that.

He’s the only one I really want. His stride towards me tilts my world on its axis, and I understand the phrase “weak at the knees” because of him, because my limbs want to turn to putty in his hands, because the mere thought of him touching me unbalances my physical hold on this universe.

The song he requested still blares over the drunken chatter, and he yells over the noise, “You like it?!” I nod repeatedly. I like you. “It’s a good one!” My heart pounds rapidly, and these urges slam at my body. Be bold. Be who you are. Do what you want. Who cares what anyone thinks?

No more wavering, I jump into his arms like one of the corny dance moves we did in the privacy of his bedroom. Donnelly catches me with the hottest grin, and my entire being sings as he whirls me in a circle. I raise my arms in the air, leaning back. Then I fly forward, my hair sheltering us. He laughs and sings against my lips, our foreheads nearly pressed together. I sing back, more off-key, and hold his neck. I rock my hips to the beat. He meets my rhythm with his own.

We’re the only ones dancing in a crowded bar. People are staring. They might even be snapping pics of us, and he doesn’t care about anyone. Except for me. It is one of the most powerf...

He’s kissing me. I could dance and kiss and love him for longer than a lifetime. I wonder...

We don’t end when the music switches. We keep going. We’re two glittery disco balls. Refracting light which pierces in every direction. And as we grow sweaty, as I bounce on him, as he holds me—the songs change and the melody of on...

This song. “Baba O’Riley” by the Who. I know it. I’ve known it since I was a kid, but I feel it like a boiling wave rushing over me. But…it’s cold. There are Christmas lights blinking in a rustic bar. It’s dar...

SCREAMING yes you do!!!!!

But she can’t remember any one-night stands or casual sex, and it makes me want to hoist a drawbridge, fortify the walls of her fortress, load cannons, feed the alligators in the moat.

And a good or bad impulse seizes me, and I ride it out as I say, “I’m not security.” His brows furrow. “What?” He scrutinizes my face and the ink on my arms. “No, you’re that guy. The ass-whatever.”