Misfits Like Us (Like Us #11) Read Online Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors: , Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
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Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 132933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
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Anger.

Sadness.

Lust.

Those three are the most common ones.

“Callie is a Lust Dominant,” I finish my explanation to Eliot. “A lot of viewers hate her for stupid reasons. They think Frost, the leader of the eldest ‘evolved’, shouldn’t be with her. He’s already controlled his emotions, even being an Anger Dominant, and people think he’s too good for her… it’s a whole thing…” I wave a hand, watching as Eliot’s face scrunches up like I lost him. I’m either terrible at summarizing or it’s hard to explain this particular show to non-viewers. Maybe they just have to see it for themselves.

It’s probably me.

Eliot listens intently like he’s at least trying. I’ll give him that. I smile. “You should watch an episode.”

“It’s on HBO?” he asks.

I nod. “At least so you can become a Callie stan with me.” My stomach sinks. What if Eliot doesn’t like Callie? Ugh, that’d break my heart. I wince. “On second thought, maybe you shouldn’t. I don’t know if my heart can withstand more Callie hate.”

His brows furrow, and his blue eyes drive deeper through me. Like he can read me too well. Like I’m one of his audiobooks on three-times speed, already racing to the end. Is it that obvious why I relate to Callie so much, even to a non-viewer?

So much empathy lives and breathes inside that one look that I have to turn my head away from Eliot. Back to the computer screen.

I don’t want to bring up my mom. I don’t want to bring up the rumors about me. I trust Eliot and Tom with my deepest secrets, and I’ve spoken to them before about being Luna Hale: Daughter of a Sex Addict. But the more I go out and party, the more paparazzi catch me kissing random guys at bars, the more I shut down. The more I don’t want to talk at all.

“I’m sure I’d like her,” Eliot assures.

My belly tightens into fiercer knots, knowing he’s just saying this to assuage my feelings. And then I see the comment underneath mine. The one nice one.

StaleBread89: Have to agree with OP. Callie isn’t likable which makes her likable. You guys don’t get it. #ProtectCallieAtAllCosts.

I bite the inside of my lip, holding back a grin.

Eliot continues to read over my shoulder. “Someone agrees with you.”

“StaleBread89 has taste,” I say into a hearty nod. “I’m going to message them.” I’m already clicking their username to send a DM.

Concern is radiating off Eliot almost instantly. “Just be careful.” He rises from the nook behind me. “With a name like StaleBread89, he sounds like some creepy old guy in a rancid basement.”

“Or it could be a metaphor,” I say while typing. “Stale bread goes unloved. It’s not moldy, so it’s not immediately discarded. And you never know bread is stale unless you eat it, and that’s when you usually toss it away.”

“Unless it’s your only piece of bread,” Eliot says thoughtfully. “Then you’d eat it no matter what.”

The sadness of that statement surges through me. “Unless it’s your only piece of bread,” I agree into a nod.

Eliot laughs. “This guy’s not thinking that hard about his username. Believe me, Luna.” He saunters across the room to his bookshelf. “He’s probably been told his breath is stale.”

Maybe.

Or maybe it’s not even a guy.

I don’t know. I don’t care. And I usually don’t message people on Fanaticon, but today has been unusually off. With Charlie’s edits, a looming triple date, and now my downvoted comment, I just want to put positivity out into the world in the hopes that maybe I can feel it too.

So I type: Hey, thanks for the comment about Callie. Glad you like her too 💖

Send.

6

PAUL DONNELLY

High school. Never thought I’d be back here, but I’m in the empty hallway posted outside Xander’s British Lit classroom. Nothing much to see here.

Dust bunnies could be rolling through the pristinely clean hall, the row of lockers a Dalton blue. My eye catches a banner hanging closer to the rotunda. Seahorse drawings and glittery pearls decorate the aqua paper. It says, Homecoming: Under the Sea, September 28th

It’s the week after my triple date, but Xander is still on the fence about going to Homecoming. So I’m not sure if I’ll be working or not yet.

“Seven days to find a girl,” I mutter to myself, unpocketing my phone. “Already wasted a whole week, Paul.” Procrastinating is a colleague of mine. Say hello to him every now and again. Shoot the shit. About everything but the things I need to do.

I could scroll through my TikTok DMs, see if anyone has slid into mine for a hookup. Not that I’ve hooked up with anyone lately. It’s been…a while.

A year?

Longer, I think.

Expelling a heavy breath, I unlock my phone and instantly see a notification from Fanaticon.

Illyana_Dallas222: Hey, thanks for the comment about Callie. Glad you like her too 💖



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