Misfits Like Us (Like Us #11)(120)

I’ve sent her fifteen Bass memes.

“Fuck,” I curse under my breath.

We can record it.

We can watch it later.

She’ll understand. It’s not like I’m cancelling to go clubbing with friends. It’s her brother I’m protecting.





34





PAUL DONNELLY





We reschedule the Beneath a Strong Sentiment viewing for the next night. Her bedroom. She’s not upset about it, but on this peak Tuesday night, after we’ve angled her mounted TV towards the bed, she confesses that she got spoiled for the finale.

“It sucks.” She face-plants on her bed like a pancake.

“The finale sucks?”

“No, that I got spoiled from the Bass Fanaticon forum. I wasn’t even on the forum, Donnelly. I was so careful, and then some asshole—”

“Mega asshole,” I interject.

Her smile tries to appear, and to look at me better, Luna rolls onto her back and perches on her elbows. “The mega asshole posted a spoiler without a spoiler tag, and it appeared in my feed on Fanaticon. I’ve been avoiding Twitter because I knew it’d be a spoiler minefield, but Fanaticon was supposed to be safe, and now I can’t even be surprised by what happens.”

I jump on the bed with the remote. Standing on the mattress, my feet are planted on either side of Luna’s waist, and I stare down at her pouty face. I try not to grin too much because I get how shitty it’d be to run into a spoiler, especially for a show that we’re not bingeing all at once. “I feel you. This guy—”

“Mega asshole,” she corrects for me now.

I grin and lower on my knees, straddling her. “Mega asshole just earned himself a millennium of shit luck. Sucks to suck.”

Her smile peeks, and she sits up, closer to my chest. Her lips rise higher at the sight of the orange knitted, cropped sweater I’m wearing. The one with an alien making a peace sign. She was shocked I hadn’t thrown it out yet, but I wouldn’t chuck out my favorite piece of clothing.

It even beats my Van Halen shirt.

I was lucky that none of my shit got burned in the townhouse fire. Security’s place didn’t get as much damage since the fire department stopped the blaze before then.

“I guess there’s some good in all of this,” Luna murmurs.

I rest a hand on the headboard behind her. “What’s that?”

“I get to see your virgin reaction to the finale. Untouched by spoilers.”

I look into her. “I hate that you’ve been fucked by spoilers.”

“It was a brutal fucking,” she says softly, still morose.

“That’s it; me and spoilers are at war.”

“Kill them all,” she quips.

I whisper against her mouth, “You know it; no one fucks my space babe but me.” Pressing a tender kiss to her lips, Luna deepens it. Our tongues wrestle, and I slide my hand against her soft, round cheek. She’s warm against my palm. Flushed. My pulse hammers, tasting her on my tongue, feeling her for real. Not just late at night in my head while I’m sketching.

She was right—there is still something about being together that feels like we can’t. Like this is all on borrowed time, but I’m scavenging for every last second to be with her.

Shifting my knees, I pull her legs around my waist and then I lift Luna onto my lap, hands cupped on her ass.

She runs her fingers back and forth through my hair that’s grown longer. I’ll buzz it short sometimes. Leave it longer other times.

“How big was the spoiler?” I ask, rasp in my voice.

“Asteroid-sized.” She nods glumly. “It’s basically why the cast said the finale would blow everyone’s mind.”

“Bad twist? Good twist?”

Her eyes go big. “No, Donnelly, I’m not letting you be fucked by spoilers, too. Only one of us can be ruined.”

I would’ve rather it been me. Especially since I’m the one who postponed the finale-viewing. Before I can mention that, Luna speaks quietly. “You think I’m overreacting?”

“Nah, you can’t get back the experience of seeing the show you love in its purest form. You lost that. I get it.”

Her gaze sinks further into me, her desire fisting me. And then Luna grips my length that’s bearing against my black cotton pants, and she squeezes. Fuck me. Breath scrapes my throat and heavies my lungs.

“Luna,” I whisper, my lips ghosting hers. I pull off her black baggy shirt. No bra, I massage her small breast while she grinds against my dick and then begins lifting off my knitted sweater.

She nips my lip, and I harden more, my fingers lost in her long hair. Her nails graze my bare chest, and I bear my weight on Luna, her back thumping to the bed.

I hear her tiny cry of pleasure as I grind against her pussy, and blood rushes to my cock. I blanket her slender frame, and while I’m on top of her, we make out for what feels like an hour of boiling torture. Me grinding, her clawing at my back.

Her soft moans are going to live in my head for eternity.

All we’re doing is kissing and dry-humping, and her hips suddenly arch into me, her legs quaking as she gets off. My muscles are flexed and contracted, burning alive, and seeing her come almost sends me over a cliff.