Unlucky Like Us (Like Us, #12)

by Krista Ritchie

A pit is sinking in my stomach, and I open my mouth to reply—just as the door begins to open. My heart skips several beats. Like I conjured him from my greatest desires, in walks Paul Donnelly.

“Why the fuck does she not have a bodyguard?” Ian hisses. “She does now,” I retort. “Why do you think I’m here?” I sidestep, about to push beyond him, but Ian catches my bicep.

Luna’s cheeks look flushed. Her gaze flits back to me, then away. Something is…off. My chest constricts. All I want is to close the distance and go check on her. See if she’s okay, if we’re okay. I’m not losing her to this stupid “waiting” period. I won’t.

I whisper with heat, “I don’t work for you. Don’t touch me—and you can get out of my fucking way.” “Last I checked, you’re a bodyguard,” Ian hisses under his breath. “You stand here. With us.” “I’m also her friend,” I say loudly enough that Luna can hear. “And my friend is bleeding, so move—” He blocks me again. I grind my teeth, my nose flaring. It feels like every time I try to get close to her, someone else is in my way.

Ian is pummeled to the left, and I make my move to Luna. Beckett studies me as I approach his cousin, but it’s hard to meet his gaze. Still don’t know what he thinks of me after the assault, and right now, first, I just want to ensure Luna really is okay. “You alright?” I ask again. She nods, but her hand shields her mouth. Even so, she’s so fucking pretty.

“Can I see?” I reach into my back pocket where I stuffed a half-empty bottle of water. The plastic crinkles as I pull it out. “It was an elbow to the mouth.” She lowers her hand, her bottom lip swollen and bloodied. “I just got in the way…I was trying to help.” “Consequences of being a ride-or-die, I know it well.”

“If you don’t want to swallow, you can spit in the plant over there.” Her flush inches higher with her smile, and it makes me grin back, especially as she says, “You never know what powers you might get by swallowing.” I smirk. “You seem pretty powerful to me already.” She grins into a gulp of water. “I am a swallower.” I make a rock on gesture.

“It’s a lot,” Donnelly says vaguely. Smart. Wise. He is a Ravenclaw after all.

“Great, I love excess,” Eliot says, still hunting for answers. “I love complicated, messy. Where’s the fun in safety?” “No fun at all,” Tom agrees and waves Donnelly on. “As you were.”

“Donnelly tell them,” I say. “It’s just security stuff.” He’s still locked on to Beckett as he says, “It’s always been about her. At least for me, it has been.” My heart suddenly swells, his honesty singing inside of me. Is this really happening?

“Luna?” I wonder why it’s so hard for him to believe. “Luna,” Donnelly confirms, and now my heart pitter-patters like he’s hugging me. “I asked her dad if I could date her. He said not until it’s safe with my family, so that’s what I’m doing. I’m trying to make it safe to be with her.” “Holy shit,” Tom mutters. “‘O me, the gods,’” Eliot recites a phrase from Shakespeare,

“Beckett!” I shout. Not again. I have flashbacks of Xander storming out of my room. He says nothing, almost in a trance. “Shit, you broke Beckett,” Tom whispers. “Beckett,” Eliot says in concern. “Brother.” Beckett opens the door. “See you guys in New York.” And he leaves.

“I broke him?” I ask Tom. I didn’t know Beckett could break. I pace and bite my thumbnail. “Donnelly broke him,” Tom corrects. Donnelly opens a pack of cigarettes. “I broke Xander,” I say, haunted. “Xander knows?” Eliot says with a slow-growing smile, feasting on the chaos. “You’ve been holding out on us.” Yes, I have.

“Hey, stop, Luna with No Middle Name.” Tom sees me pacing. He grabs my arm with his non-injured wrist, halting me so I don’t tunnel into anxiety. “Beckett will be fine. Let’s just focus on you.” Donnelly comes closer. Slowly, nearly affectionately, he slips a cigarette behind my ear, his fingers lingering against the strands of my hair, tucking them back.

Eliot is observing. “Seeing you do that to Luna now with this new context changes everything.” His lips rise. “You know what the most shocking part is?” “That you didn’t see it sooner?” I guess. “No, deception is strong with you. It’s that you asked for permission first.” His gaze veers over to Donnelly. “From her father. Why?” “Shits and giggles,” Donnelly says, fitting the cigarette between his lips. “I’d only be shitting myself confronting Uncle Loren with that,” Tom notes. “I’d just be giggling,” Eliot says.

“Lo knows I can’t have my family thinking I’m in love with her.” “Love?” Eliot’s grin has exploded. He buttons his slacks with an amused, delighted laugh. Tom is grinning now too. He told my best friends he’s trying to date me. That he loves me. It’s sinking in, and I feel my smile mushroom. Donnelly shares the grin. “You think I would do all of this just for a girl I sort of like?” “This is beautiful,” Eliot says, “and tragic all at the same time.”

Ughhh donnelly is my number1

“Maybe you just have slippery hands. Lemme see.” He reaches for my palm, and I start to smile as I let him hold my hand while he drives. Really, we press fingertips to fingertips, and slowly, his fingertips glide down my palm with featherlight affectionate touch. It’s electric, tingling my veins, and my breath catches in the quiet. “Verdict?” I ask. “More soft than slippery. Your phone definitely fucked you.”

“You really think it’s possible to outrun curses and bad luck?” On Halloween, after he confessed he coined the Hale curse phrase, he told me that it was. “Yeah,” he nods. “I’m not gonna let it catch us.” I breathe in his hope. He adds, “And so you know, I don’t care what they say about me online. People like to speculate and shit. It’s what they do.”

“Back off.” I hear Donnelly’s threatening tone behind me. I peek over my shoulder. Two middle-aged men hoist cameras, and their lenses would be pointed at my ass if it weren’t for Donnelly physically blocking them. Paparazzi.

Donnelly takes another bite of jerky. “How come you ditched Frog?” He’s not accusatory like Ian. He just sounds curious. I crunch on a corn chip. “Because the purple people eaters told me to.” “Hate those purple-people-eating bastards.” I nod. “They’re nosy too. Snuck into my bedroom in the middle of the night and mentally transferred their histories to me.” “Yeah, no one sneaks into your bedroom but me,” he says, hushed.

“What do they have against frogs anyway?” “Everything. After all the purple people were eaten, their world was cratered with darkness. Legend says, Jar Til, leader of the purple people eaters, was poisoned by amphibians. Frogs are the heroes of the story.” I hold out my Fritos.

Donnelly takes a couple corn chips and tosses them back in his mouth. “Frogs sound dope.” “They are,” I sing-song. “Then how come you don’t trust the Kannika Kitsuwon kind?” “It’s not that I don’t trust her.”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve snuck out without a bodyguard, Donnelly.” “I know.” There isn’t disappointment in his voice. No judgment. “Are there times when no one has known before though? Not security or your family?” I walk slowly towards the cashier. He follows as I say, “Would you be upset if I said yes?” “Upset? No. Worried about you, yeah.”

A long second passes before Donnelly finally asks, “You talk to any guys at the bars?” I shrug again. “Sometimes.” His face noticeably tightens, and his brows lift while he glances at the entrance again. His six-foot-three build has tensed, and I shift my weight uncertainly. “Your worry looks angry,” I say. His blue eyes rest gently on mine. “‘Cause you’re looking at jealousy.”

A little breathless, I ask, “You wish you could’ve been at the bar?” “Right there, right beside you, space babe.” He searches my eyes for something. “Next time, you planning to throw me an invite?” “Will you come as a friend or a bodyguard?” “Friend. I’m joining your secret rendezvous in the great state of PA.”

“And drink all the green shots.” “Only the green ones,” he emphasizes. “Right off my belly button.” He lets out a wanting breath. “Girl, hit me up already.” We’re both grinning, but my heart pangs. “Why does that sound like fan fiction?” “Because we’d both write it.” Isn’t that the truth. “Yours would be better written though,” he adds. “I’d read the fuck out of it too.” “You think we’ll ever get to live it?” He canvasses me, up-down. “You losing hope?”

“You can put your stuff up there with mine,” he says, digging out his wallet. His eyes signal for me to please let him, and I’ve started realizing buying me food means something to Donnelly, so I go ahead and combine my snacks with his.

“I have to catch myself not making excuses for him, for my mom.” “What do you mean?” He cradles my gaze for a fragile beat. “They were babies having a baby when they had me. Just fourteen.” It knocks air out of my lungs. “They were fourteen?” He nods.

“I think we’re all backwards,” I tell him softly. “With everything you’ve gone through, you should be the real-life cynic. I should be the one infecting you with hope.” “I’d still be in South Philly, in the same apartment, never meeting Farrow, never meeting you if I were the real-life cynic,” Donnelly says. “And I don’t believe you’ve been hopeless, sad alien.”

“You’ve just been beat down one too many times. Everyone has a breaking point.” “Even you?” I whisper. He searches my gaze again. “The way you look at me, Luna…” He seems overwhelmed. “How am I looking at you?” I’m trapped in his orbit, not wanting to be set loose. “I’m the hero of your story.” His voice drops to the same hushed sound as mine. “I don’t know if anyone has ever placed me there, but one of the things I’m most scared of is disappointing you.”

“I wanna be your hero—in every story you’ll ever write about me and you. I want that, but the honest truth is that…I’m not built to withstand it all. And I don’t know my exact breaking point yet, ‘cause I don’t really know how much I can take. I just know it’s a lot.”

“You’re right…when I look at you, I do see a hero. Not because I think you’re indestructible, but because you’ve chosen the light side despite growing up in the dark.” I let out a breath. “It’s just Star Wars stuff.” His smile is everything to me. The way it effortlessly inches up his lips. “Let’s hear it.” I’m caught in how he’s looking at me now. If he’s my hero, then I’m his queen.

And then he suddenly unclips his black wristwatch. “I don’t have much, but I wanna give you something too.” He leans further over the middle console, to reach me, and as his fingers close over my wrist, adrenaline seeps through my veins. I feel dizzy. Transported to another dimension. “It’s engraved and everything,” he says. “Fancy shit.” He grins as he shows me the back casing of the watch. A crudely scratched “D” is legible in the silver. He must’ve used a knife.

“To remind you of our future together,” Donnelly says. “Time is irrelevant when I’m always right here.” He hoists my wrist, the watch secured perfectly.

“You can’t disappointment me, you know.” “If I fail—” “Heroes fail all the time. It won’t change how I see you, Donnelly.” He looks uncertain. “It won’t.”

“Did he go through with it?” he asks. “You want me to spoil it for you?” “Hit me with the spoilers, space babe.”

Donnelly sinks back against his seat. “He succumbed to the dark side, didn’t he?” He did. I look over at him, my heart hurting. “You’re not Ulic. That’s his story, and this…this isn’t just my story, like you said. I hope it can be our story.” He comes forward, and his hand encases the edge of my jaw, the softness of my neck. “It is our story, Luna,” he breathes.

“In the Star Wars mythos, you’d be a Jedi Knight, but in our universe, you’re something else.” “What am I?” His lips are so close to mine. “Some noble hero of another galaxy? An alien warrior? Or well-traveled bounty hunter?” “You’re human,” I whisper. “You’re my human hero. And there is no one stronger than you.” We’re breathing one another in, and the distance is so painful. I just want him to—and then he does, holy…shit. He kisses me.

@StaleBread89: Seems far-fetched imo. Think Loren just hates Donnelly’s good looks.

LMAO

Today’s Focus: stop thinking about fucking your friend Luna. (I’m deadass now.)

Wallow. Jk. Wallowing is for weeping willows. I’m a mf-ing oak tree. Sturdy af.

Dinner with Xander’s dad at his Halway Comics office. Just him. Feels sus.

Lol

Water: Stop thirsting after Luna. Get a fuckin’ grip of your dick. ALSO! Drink actual water.

Question of the Day: Is Loren Hale a human lie detector by proxy of Connor Cobalt? How many broken promises are too many? Why is thinking about Qunnie’s belly button lint the best boner killer?

LMAO

Before I draw visuals in my head of fucking Luna against the wall, I catch a new sound. The door is opening. “Luna?” I crack the shower stall door and peek out. Yeah, she’s here. I try to cup a hand over my cock, but as soon as she sees me, her gaze falls to my dick.

“Howdy,” she mumbles, a tie-dye Fruit Roll-Up dangling out of her mouth like a long tongue. She throws up a nervous Vulcan salute and shifts the Roll-Up in her mouth to speak.

“You want me to walk Orion again?” I ask. “If it’s not that much trouble?” “It’s not.” I can’t take my eyes off her.

She slurps an inch of her Fruit Roll-Up in her mouth. With the sway of her head, she dangles the Roll-Up just below her chin. “Want some of my tongue?” She mumbles the words. I grin. “Whatever you wanna give me, I’ll take.” I edge closer, our knees knocking. I bite the other end of the Fruit Roll-Up, not hard enough to sever Luna’s end. It’s still attached, and I use my tongue to pull it further in my mouth. She does the same on her side, our eyes latched, and as the Roll-Up shortens, our lips are inching closer. Closer. I cup the back of her head with one hand, her hair and ribbon soft between my fingers. As the inches disappear, neither of us jerks away from the crash—and our lips meet.

“Careful what you wish for. I could so easily devour every last inch of you.” I clasp her cheek. “Then what’ll be left?” “Us,” she murmurs. “You with me. For longer than a minute. Longer than a moment.” Forever, I hear,

“Donnelly.” I hear the wait in my name this time. I pause, both of us breathing hard. Her lips are reddened, her hair ruffled. She’s trying to read my gaze. “Are you…are you sure?” “Not if you aren’t.” “I would…” Luna glances down at my hands holding her thighs, her black panties half torn down and in my grasp. “I want to more than anything, but not if you’re going to be upset you broke your promise.” “I won’t be. And I doubt it’ll come up in conversation anyway.”