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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Frog nods. “Oh yeah. That’s like her favorite show right now. I can’t get into it, but I love her passion for it.”

It’s a coincidence.

It can’t be her.

It’s wishful thinking.

What are the odds…?

I can’t breathe. All I know is that I have to go. Have to leave this room.

I have to find her.

25

LUNA HALE

Most accurate costume award goes to Eliot, who enlisted his mom’s help in recreating Pyro’s ensemble for the evening. My Polaris dress is not accurate. Mainly because my dad texted me right after he sent out the costume list.

Please make sure your dress is not see-through and absolutely no cleavage. This is my birthday, not my funeral. Thx. Love you. – Dad

I didn’t even hesitate before typing out my reply: But then it won’t be comic book accurate

LUNA – Dad

What? I replied. I’m with Eliot and Tom on this one; sometimes it is fun to see our parents squirm a little bit. Just a little.

Most of the people at this party are family members. They would also like your costume to be less comic book accurate. TL;DR: Don’t scar your little brother – Dad

Okay, so he totally used Xander as the ace card. I smiled and replied with a peace sign emoji.

So while my dress isn’t as sheer as Polaris’, it still has the wide bell cut at the bottom that I love, and I got to spray my hair a dark green shade.

Honestly, I’m really happy my dad assigned me this costume. It feels so much like me, and I’d like to believe he really sees me.

In a little study, Charlie is leaning a hip against an antique grandfather clock. He’s sipping on a golden-colored drink. “You’re writing a lot,” he tells me. “You’re bound to make mistakes.”

I found him alone here, searching through the dusty old books on the shelves, and I apologized for all the errors in my last fic.

He had more edits than ever before. I messed up the present and past tense in certain scenes. I never do that. Maybe I’m just getting worse.

“If it’s getting too annoying to edit them, just give me the signal and you can jump ship.” I’m offering him an out on a silver platter.

He sips from his champagne flute. “If it keeps some anonymous troll from being a cunt to you, I’m going to keep doing it.”

I blink for a second, taking that in. “Thanks.”

“You can stop thanking me, too,” he replies swiftly. “I’m not doing it to pocket gratitude.”

“No thanks, then,” I nod strongly.

He raises his glass in cheers. I smile and then my phone buzzes.

Get over here. We’re doing a séance in the attic and there are for sure ghosts lurking – Kinney

Did she mean to text me? I’m usually not high-up on her invite list. I frown and reply back, This is Luna. She’s quick to respond.

No duh. Come up to the attic – Kinney

I smile more and glance up at Charlie.

He’s back to perusing the novels on the shelves. I wave, “May we meet again.” It’s a farewell from one of my favorite sci-fi shows.

He nods to me but doesn’t say anything else, and I take my cue to go.

Now…I have to find the attic.

Easier said than done in the maze of the Frey Manor. I do remember seeing my parents in the ballroom, so I backtrack first, and sure enough, Mom and Dad are near cascading red fabric and a taco table.

They’re making googly eyes at each other. At least, that’s what I’ve always called it.

Their love is undeniable, but tonight, a pang fills my heart seeing it—and I canvass the ballroom with a strained neck and glimpses this way and that.

I don’t see him.

I don’t see Donnelly. I don’t know why tonight would be any different than last night. Hallow Friends Eve IV was filled with the kinda angst I didn’t think would belong to me. Side glances in the darkened living room while A Nightmare on Elm Street played.

Moving our beanbags closer, even when we shouldn’t have.

How Orion curled up on his lap, and he didn’t even move my heavy dog off him. He just let him lounge like it was also his puppy, too.

He snuck him pieces of a jerky stick.

He whispered to me, “This is my favorite part.”

I stole some of his popcorn and hid behind his arm during the jump scares.

And still, nothing more happened. We shared a fragile knowledge that this was it. This is all we could be.

With a heavy breath, I push onward towards my parents. Slipping past my Aunt Rose and her diamond-stranded dress, she’s outfitted perfectly as Emma Frost. Like me, she’s not exactly comic book accurate since it’s not as revealing.

I try to bounce over to my parents. Though, the bounce doesn’t feel as springy. When they spot me, they both begin to smile.


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