Misfits Like Us (Like Us #11)(111)

“Not cuter than you.”

This swells inside me while he feeds Orion a tiny strip of pork, his tail wagging. “That’s a good fluffy boy.” He scratches behind his ears, pats his belly, and then rests his blue eyes on my amber. “Someone made you feel like you aren’t cut out for it?”

For being a girlfriend. “He just made me realize I’m not the right person to be a girlfriend, maybe.”

Donnelly looks pissed. “Just so this is in our universe”—he outstretches his arms to my bedroom—“I, Paul Donnelly, severely dislike Luna Hale’s bitch of an ex. Thank you, rug. Thank you, walls. Lava lamp.”

“Lava lamp wasn’t a fan of my ex either.”

“Lava lamp is my new friend.” He blows a kiss to the purple lamp.

I laugh and nod. “Andrew?” I name my only relationship, figuring he’s talking about him.

“Yeah, he’s a bitch,” Donnelly says plainly. “A prick, asshole, whatever. And if you think I’m biased, then you can ask Farrow. He’d say, fuck him for making you think you’re not good enough to be someone’s girlfriend.”

Donnelly knows where I got this uncomfortable feeling. Because he saw Andrew with me. I nod again, more confidently, even if it feels kinda like a false confidence. I still can’t tell if I’m cut out to be anyone’s girlfriend, but I want to try with Donnelly.

He takes the cigarette out from behind his ear. “I should be upfront too.”

Now I stiffen. “What about?”

“If we do this, I just…” It takes him a long second to find the words. “I don’t think I could handle seeing you with other guys.” His chest rises. “Korey was hard enough for me, honestly—and before you say anything, I didn’t go into this thinking I’d make that stipulation because I always thought I’d give someone the chance to look around before committing to me, but I already have feelings for you, Luna, and I just can’t…I can’t do that. If that’s a dealbreaker…”

“It’s not,” I say with a strong shake of my head, my heart in my throat. “It’s not at all. I definitely couldn’t stomach seeing you with other girls either.”

Joana was his fake date and that hurt enough to kill me.

He eases, then scratches the back of his neck. “I haven’t been seeing anyone for a while, actually.”

“Like sex or…?”

“Yeah, sex.” Hearing Donnelly talk about sex again is blanketing me in an inferno. I pretend we’ve landed our spacecraft onto a molten planet. “I haven’t been with anyone in…” His brows crinkle, unsure of the exact time. “It’s been long. Longer than I’ve ever gone without getting off with another person.” He searches my eyes as he says, “But I’ve been tested. All negative.”

I go quieter, nervous. Not because of tests. I’ve been to the doctor recently, and the tests were negative too. I want to mention it, but I’m hung up on something else.

He tenses. “You okay?”

“Um, I…haven’t gone without sex for that long.” Guilt churns, but it’s not like we were together. It was just sex. I tell him, “It’s been recent. Not that recent, but it hasn’t been a long time, I guess.”

“Korey?” He looks heartbroken already.

“No,” I say fast. “No way. It was before Philly Comic-Con. Before the yacht trip, the one around the Baja Peninsula, when Sulli got engaged.”

His muscles loosen, but he must see the guilt eating at me because he says, “Don’t feel badly about it, Luna. If this were reversed, you know, I’d feel worse thinking that you didn’t get laid when you could’ve.”

This makes me smile. “So I should feel badly for you then?”

“Nah, never pity me.” He leans forward, just to slip the cigarette behind my ear. His fingers brush a strand of my hair and the softness of my cheek.

I feel like I’m rising off the rug. Like we have the power of flight together. “Why didn’t you have sex then?”

“I just got in my head about it.” His eyes dart through mine, and the unsaid words, because of you, thicken the room with electric tension. Slowly, he leans back from me. “You might think you’re not girlfriend material, but I’ve wanted to take you out for a while. I just couldn’t.”

My pulse ascends again. He’s wanted to take me out, unearthly reader.

He’s wanted to be with me for longer than now.

After the Wawa rejection, hearing this is celestial music to my ears. I am someone he’s seen as more than a one-time experiment and a hookup.

I’m someone he’s wanted to date.

I think things through. “It still sort of feels like we’re playing with borrowed time or something,” I tell him. “Like we really can’t, but we’re pretending we can.”

“Yeah, I know,” he breathes. “But I’d rather take this moment for what it is than be afraid of tomorrow.”

Hope surges. It’s scary to be hopeful when everything could come crashing down, but I’ve learned with him that I want to be less cynical today. I want to believe that good things can happen, and I don’t want to miss out on the windows that we could fly through.