Misfits Like Us (Like Us #12) Read Online Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire Tags Authors: , Series: Becca Ritchie
Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
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Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 174544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
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@hehecallowayxx: Idk about this theory, but Luna should go for Quinn. He’s so hot.

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

@lilysandroses4evers: This might be a stretch. Donnelly has been on Oscar and Farrow’s socials way more than Luna’s. Just seems like Luna-Donnelly have been okay friends. Why would Loren all of a sudden be upset about them now?

@BurnBabyBurn323: We should keep Luna out of this. The beef is between Donnelly and Loren. She’s been through enough lately.

@lalaland_11: Has anyone actually read her leaked fics? There’s literally tentacle penetration. It’s fucking gross. Stop making excuses for her. Deleted by mod-bot for breaking forum rules.

@PuffClaws12345: LunaQuinn is such a perfect match. I’ve been saying this from DAY ONE.

DONNELLY’S DAILY PLANNER

FRIDAY, NOV 23RD

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

To Do:

Ice cold shower. Need it asap.

See which detail I’m assigned to today.

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.

Notes: Another day I’m hoping Xander decides not to hole away. His teachers keep sending all his school assignments over email, so he has no reason to return to Dalton. Don’t even know how he’s been faring post-homecoming with Delilah. Worse: I think I’m the reason he’s hiding at home. If he doesn’t leave the Hale House, he won’t need a bodyguard, and he hasn’t requested one to be at home like he sometimes does. Don’t know what’d hurt worse. This. Or him requesting Gabe to replace me.

Been in contact with my dad. Saw him for brekky one morning and then a walk (smoke break) another evening. He’s 100% bought the fake article. Believes I’m on the brink of being fired. He said Loren is a prick anyway and he tried comforting me, I think. He even bought me a bagel. Not sure how I feel. Still haven’t gotten any helpful info for security. He’s said I look good tho. Healthy. Fit and all that. Was he always this nice? Can’t remember.

Worried about Luna. She’s rippin’ a page from her brother’s hermit handbook and hasn’t left the penthouse since I drove her home last week.

Good news: haven’t sleepwalked in weeks. Not since I made cereal in the bathroom sink I share with Luna.

Meals: Might pick up breakfast/lunch at Wawa. Dinner with Xander’s dad. Probably gonna eat my tongue.

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?

16

PAUL DONNELLY

My nipples could cut glass. Fuck cold showers. I last a second, then switch the handle to a scorching hot setting. Steam gathers around me, and I let the warm water pelt my head and taut shoulders. It’s not that I’ve got zero willpower. I’m just not putting myself through that torture when I’d rather rub one out.

Eighties rock blasts out of my phone, which I left on the bathroom counter. Music bleeds through my hot veins, and while water slips down my build, I push wet hair out of my face.

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. I flex my muscles to avoid a raging hard-on, but my blood is pumping straight to my head.

“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. “Uh, I just was going to grab some nail polish. I didn’t think you’d care.”

“I don’t care.” I skim the length of her. She’s in black baggy sweatpants and a green cropped top, my watch still on her wrist. Tiny strands of her long hair are tied with glittery ribbon. “You going to Penn?” I can’t tell if it’s an outfit she’d wear on campus. Maybe, but maybe not.

“Uh-uh. Not today.” She squats to the cupboard and searches for nail polish.

Not today.

Not yesterday or the day before either. Not since her fics leaked, really. What Charlie told her—to drop out—races back to me. I hesitate to influence her too much, but I’m praying she doesn’t give up this fast.

I close the shower door and rinse off some soap. “You quitting school?” I ask over the water and music.

I can’t hear her response, and it’s killing me. So I cut off the water and reach over the stall to swipe my towel. Holding the fabric at my waist, I kick open the shower door.


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