Nobody Like Us (Like Us #13)

by Krista Ritchie

Eliot mimes holding out a microphone. “Paul Donnelly, where do you see yourself in five to ten years?” Tom mimes stealing the microphone. “And has Eliot Alice broken his three-date maximum? Because it’s depressing.” Eliot leans into the fake mic. “I think Tom is referring to his own unrequited crushes.”

“But remember,” Eliot says with a loving hand on the back of Tom’s head. “‘The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.’” Tom strums on his guitar just once, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Robert Burns.” Luna snaps her fingers like she’s in a coffeehouse. And I realize the three of them have their own thing. A cadence. A rhythm to their friendship. It makes me think of Farrow and Oscar. My friends. My smile softens as I down the rest of my whiskey. It’s cool being involved in her friend group.

Eliot straightens. “Why would our brother know?” “Um, my diary.” She takes about fifteen minutes to explain the Unearthly Reader and her new memory guardian. Eliot and Tom are supportive, genuinely good-hearted friends, and they’re both smiling by the end. They see how this’ll help Luna. Plus, Eliot adds, “You know what this means? You now have the power to pester Charlie at all hours. I would abuse the fuck out of it.”

Truth be told, I could fuck in front of an audience. I have before, but it doesn’t turn me on any extra. I’m just not bothered by voyeurs.

Donnelly please 🥵

I never really wanted Eliot or Tom to see me as broken. Never wanted anyone to. I don’t even view myself that way. How do I go back to just being the cool, down-for-whatever older guy in his eyes? Is that even possible? Was this inevitable by getting closer to Luna? Her family and friends are going to get a good look at all my flaws, even the ones I’ve sprinted miles and miles away from.

I’m in the happiest place on earth. ‘Cause the lake house does rival Disney World in my head.

“You’re shivering,” Luna breathes, scooting closer. “You should use my heat. Your species still hasn’t perfected temperature control.” A laugh rumbles from the depths of me. God, I am so in love with her—I don’t think I’m ever gonna stop. It’s the first overwhelming thought that warms me.

I think I’m sliding. Slipping. But I like this. Being with her. The comfort of Luna Hale is enough to thaw my blood. I think about kissing her. I think about holding her. I think about loving her for all eternity and then some.

“I’m feeling a wee bit jealous of her.” I pinch my fingers and squint at the invisible jealous matter. “Just a wee bit.” Donnelly grins. “Just a wee bit.” He shakes his head. “You shouldn’t be. I’m gonna fuck you harder than I ever did.” It’s a promise said so casually that I nearly buckle at the knees. Holy shit. His grin widens before he puts the cigarette between his lips.

“Yeah,” he nods, “but you gotta understand, we weren’t friends. I barely knew you at the time. You’d just turned eighteen, and I was twenty-six. I had no business hanging around you before that as anything other than a bodyguard. And I didn’t really wanna be alone with you then. I know what people think I’m willing to do, and it’s just not who I am, you know? Not when you’re that young.”

“Yeah, I get it. You wanted to give it some time before befriending me, for the freshness of my eighteen to wear off a bit.” He shakes his head. “It’s not like I was looking to ever befriend you, Luna. I was just kind of…drawn to you.”

“Your twenty-one,” he whispers, “smells ripe.” He pulls back just to caress my gaze with his. “Like you’re ready to be eaten.” Please. “Yep. I’m ready,” I rasp. “Eat me out.”

“What’d I seem like? Like mentally?” He stares off for a beat. “It seemed like you were searching for a feeling. I can’t say what it was, but maybe you figured doing drugs, having sex, drinking alcohol—anything, everything, that you felt like you couldn’t do before you turned eighteen—was gonna help you find it.”

I contemplate the past that I can recall. “I did feel trapped,” I whisper. “Like I couldn’t spread my arms high enough. Boxed in. Maybe I was searching for the feeling of being unraveled…it’d make sense why I’d be that careless with drugs.” “I think you learned that unraveled feeling is better felt without the drugs.”

My lungs expand in a deeper breath, realizing I’ve already stretched my arms to the galaxy and come undone and felt so perfectly inside myself—like just being me is home. I haven’t felt the urge to embark on some intense drug-fueled exploration this time around. Because I’v...

“There was one line I wrote about you, and it’s kinda stuck with me.” “What was it?” he asks in a near-whisper. “I wrote about how comfortable you make everything.” I try to remember the exact words. “You make it seem like ‘living is just as easy as breathing, and sometimes I do wonder how it can feel that easy. Because in my head it’s not easy at all.’”

“Do you just make it look that way?” I ask him. “Nah, I’m not pretending.” He slips me a slanted smile. “Living is as easy as breathing, Luna. It doesn’t have to be hard, but I know it can be.”

“When I was eighteen, I thought about it a lot too. I’d started getting out of the bad situation with my family. I was up at Yale with Farrow. I met Oscar. I made more friends who wanted good things for me. And it became easier and easier and easier…until I didn’t notice it was hard at all.”

It floods me, this luminous hope beyond the darkness. It’s the effervescence of Donnelly. And he’s telling me it’s not just uniquely born to him. It’s something to discover. I wonder how long he’s been guiding the way for me. Ho...

“I know it hurts at times, what we’ve gone through together,” I say quietly. “But…” I dive into his gaze. “This is easy. ...

“Yeah, but should I be less…?” Wild? Aggressive? Needy? He’s shaking his head. “Be yourself, space babe. That’s all I’ll ever want.”

“And it has to be me—I have to be the one to make you come, or else…” I near his lips, or maybe he’s nearing mine. “…I’ll faint.” He clutches the back of my head. “How you feeling now?” The husky rasp to his voice is so attractive, I could listen to him talk the whole time we’re fooling around. “Woozy.” My thighs instinctively tighten around him. He kisses me, another sensual, deep kiss that steals oxygen. I’m glad he pulls away or else I would’ve stayed glued to him, and I must proceed with the mission. “You better suck my cock,” Donnelly tells me, his grin too sexy. “I’mgoingI’mgoing,” I slur together in a hot rush, and I pretend I’m in zero gravity and drifting down our cryopod. He leans back on his elbows, but with one hand, he combs back my hair.

His hand is back on my head. “Open your mouth.”

“Fuck,” he grunts out, and he pushes my head down. Oh my God. I pulse, especially as he says, “You have to take way more of me than that.” I have to. It’s a necessity. Our intimacy. Our existence depends upon it.

I can see how much he loves me, just by looking, and it feels like the world is bestowing a gift upon me: To see love so fully expressed and to be its lucky recipient.

His grin is my whole universe, it feels like. It contains every vibrant planet, every beautiful constellation, all the wishes made upon every shooting star.

Somewhere deep-down, I know that I’ve never felt closer to Paul Donnelly than I have this night.

Farrow is standing three car lengths away. Far enough that the gap should feel infinite and cold, but the space between us has never felt cavernous. It’s felt like he’s always been right there, beside me.

I love Farrow. It hits me—it hits me so hard that I look away from him. It’s not the first time it’s crashed against me this hard. I was eighteen and he offered to answer my dad’s phone calls. Like it was some simple thing. He never made a big deal out of it. Never even wanted a thank you. Sometimes I wonder if he’s the first person I truly loved. Because loving my parents never felt like this.

“Merry Christmas, you blue-eyed shameless motherfucker.” I grin. “Merry Christmas, Dr. Kale.” “Hale.” “Right. Maximoff Hale’s main man.” “Only man,” Farrow corrects and flips me off.

And then the light of my fucking life slips effortlessly beside me. Luna wears a baggy sweatshirt over her nightgown, and immediately, I wrap my arms around her body and draw her back against my chest. She smiles up at me. This is the new part. I’ve never had a girlfriend. I’ve never looked up and seen so much family. So much unconditional love. On Christmas morning. My eyes burn again, but with a feeling that’s easy to welcome. I want this. I want this to last. I hope, and hope, and hope.

Xander splats the cinna-cake slice on a paper plate. “So a matching tattoo?” “Uh-huh.” I smile more. “He already has the design. I kinda hope it’s something galactic. An otherworldly link from him to me.” “You pretty much already have that without the tattoo, you know?” Leaning against the counter, Xander picks up the cake like a cinnamon roll. Pinched between two fingers. “You fell for him twice after you couldn’t remember him. Like, that’s fucking insane and on par with the sci-fi greats.”

Xander and I are smiling because that’s our brother. The rising star of the Hales. The one person who we can point to and say, We’re not all fuck ups. See. Except the world will try to claim he’s not one of us. He’s a Meadows. That must be why he’s so different. So much more athletic. So much more skilled.

Xander continues, “I figured he’s a Hale outlier, you know? That it’s not attainable for the rest of us, but I don’t know, lately I’ve been thinking—why not? If it’s in him, shouldn’t it be in us too? I mean, look at you.” He turns to me. “You’re by far the strongest person I’ve ever known. Maybe stronger than Moffy. It makes me feel like I can be too.”

“Our motivations are similarly aligned, earth dweller. Though, I really don’t want you to have it. I am your nemesis, watch out.” I narrow my eyes into devilish pinpoints. “I’m so afraid, ahhh,” he says with the loose wave of his hands.

“Kinney could help you with the intimidation factor. She told me I smelled like Cheetos this morning, which hurt me to my core.” I can tell it didn’t affect him at all.

“Okay,” I murmur. “Okay?” His brows spring. I nod, knowing he just wants to keep me safe, and I want that too. Swiftly, his arms curve around my shoulders, and we’re hugging so fiercely that I pretend our spacecraft is experiencing unexpected turbulence. And we’re keeping each other stable with the mighty force of our love, with the enduringness of two cosmic entities. If death occurs, it’ll be in each other’s arms.

Charlie: Why? Luna: Idk…I guess I want to believe I chose wisely and that I saw something in Keagan that I liked. But I doubt it’d make me feel any better to know. Luna: Donnelly is the only one I really want. Luna: If that wasn’t clear. Charlie: It’s clear. Luna: Phew. I was worried I’d need to spell it out in the sky. Luna: I still might do that.

“I’ve seen the video,” Frog says. “And it’s really cool that Luna memorized the dance from The OA.” Ohhhhhkay. Now I understand, and Frog truly is a godsend for providing that morsel of info so effortlessly. She’s beauty. She’s grace. She’ll claw you in the face.

Stassi lets out a low whistle. “No way.” She sizes Frog up. “No wonder you think Luna’s cool. You’re paid to think that.” Frog glares, clutching angrily to her Stanley. “That’s not true. The only thing I’m being paid to do is not throw this water bottle at your face. So be lucky—ugh.” Quinn kicks her under the table. She shoots him a fierce look.

LUNA My professor already hates me. I think if he were to wish upon a star, it’d be so I’d explode into ash. In one text, I can feel Luna’s dejection. Like she bottled it up and sent it across electromagnetic waves from her cell to mine. It hits me hard. I text back: If he hates you then he’s not looking up at any stars. What’s his name? Gonna find his address, hunt him down, egg his door.

His tie is undone, and the silver chain of his necklace dangles over the book he’s devouring. On the end of the chain is a silver pendant of a broken sword. It’s the same weapon Isildur used to cut the One Ring from Sauron’s hand in Lord of the Rings. I know this ‘cause I did my research before I bought Xander the necklace.

Xander lets out a long groan, his hands flying to his head. “You can’t be serious.” He glares at the bookshelves like they’ve accosted me somehow.

just like Moffy 😂

Hell hath no fury like a librarian scorned—I’ve never said until now. I love librarians. I’ve met my fair share growing up and all of ‘em let me eat while using the computer. They didn’t care if I greased up the keyboards, as long as I wiped them down before I left.

Xander is glaring at the librarian all the way back to her casket—I mean, desk.

As Luna’s boyfriend, as the person who loves her down to the last molecule of her being, I want to give her the tools that’ll protect all of her. How can she defend herself if she doesn’t even know why someone is coming at her?

“I run,” I emphasize. I know who I am, but she sees me in a different light that I can’t always make sense of. That scares me. I love how overwhelming it feels when she looks at me. But what if she only views me as this “human hero” because she doesn’t have all the pieces of me? As soon as I give more of my past, as soon as she realizes I am a cockroach, will she even love me the same?

“You would run…” She’s processing it. “When people try to beat me down, I don’t stick around for more.” Luna blinks, staring past me. “…sideways…” She’s scrounging for words. “…people think they’re kicking me down…but all they’re really doing is kicking me sideways, away from them—you said that to me?” My pulse skips. “Yeah, I did.” “I can’t see it. I just hear you…I hear you saying that to me.”

Her concentration face looks like Eleven using her powers in Stranger Things. “Don’t burst a blood vessel trying to remember me.”

Orion woofs at the door, then settles down. He must’ve heard footsteps. Luna scratches his furry belly and tells him, “I still can’t believe you were an accomplice in a crime.” The pet-sitter bugged his collar, which was how the Rochesters got info to leak. “I missed your unlawful activity.” “If he stands trial, I’ll go down saying our boy’s innocent.”