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Lo chokes on a sip of whatever’s in his flask, and I pat his back. “Excuse me,” Lo says. “You talked with Rose? Like had a fully formed conversation?” Connor nods. “I even invited her tonight.” Lo groans. “You did not invite the ice queen here.” “Hey,” I shoot back. “That’s my sister. She has a good heart.” I pause. “You just have to be liked by her first.” “Or be related to her,” Lo points out. True.
Being called weird by Connor is like a unicorn calling a horse magical.
Why can’t I have an addiction that people understand? It’s a vile thought—to wish for an addiction many die with. I’d rather have none at all, but for some reason, I never allow myself that option.
I always found a reason to start again. Maybe that’s my biggest fear—that I’ll find one excuse to move on from Lo. And I’ll be compelled to take it.
I belong in the shadows and the cobwebs. Connor clearly lives in the spotlight.
Someone hit him. I run towards Lo, all sensibility flying out of my brain. One of Thomas Jefferson’s Ninja Turtle cousins grabs me around the waist before I reach my boyfriend. “Hey!” Lo and Connor yell in unison.
“Blacklist me, then,” Connor says. “This is a terrible party. You didn’t even bother to serve food.” Matt’s head jerks back in surprise. “You’re going to choose them over us?” Connor nods, his muscles tensing. “Yes. Let’s see what we have here. Net worth of maybe”—he scans the mansion behind me—“twenty-five million combined.” He points to Lo and me. “Calloway and Hale. That’s every fucking soda can in your house and all your little nephews and nieces’ diapers. Billions. So yeah, I’m going to side with the two people that make your inheritances look like chump change.”
I’ve never allowed someone else to carry or help him. That job has been mine for as long as I can remember. And maybe I have been horrible at it, but at least he’s still alive, breathing. Here. With me.
“You two live together?” Ryke picks up a picture frame from the desk. “She’s a Calloway.” Connor leans a hip on the door frame, arms crossed over his chest. Ryke says, “That doesn’t mean anything to me.” “My dad created Fizzle,” I explain. “I know, that explains why Connor’s hanging around the two of you, but that has nothing to do with you two being together.” He puts the frame down. Connor raises his hand. “Just to clarify, I actually kind of like these two. Never a dull moment.”
“You both should leave. I’m kind of tired,” I say softly. Connor stands. “Okay, but I’ll be here in the afternoon to pick up Lo for the gym. He may not keep his promises, but I collect on all offered to me.”
“Leave me alone!” I shout, almost whining. I also hate the tone of my voice. “No,” he says adamantly. I clench my teeth, suppressing the urge to stomp my foot like a weirdo. “Why?” “Because if you thought Lo was in serious trouble, I don’t think you’d do a thing about it. And that fucking pisses me off.” He looks me over. “So deal with me.” He moves backwards to the door. There’s a huge part of me that agrees with Ryke. I don’t know how to help Lo without hurting myself. And I’m too selfish to find a solution to his problems. “I don’t ever want to see you again,” I say, honest and truthful.
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Being in a real relationship was supposed to fix the kinks in our lives. It should’ve made our problems easier. We no longer have to pretend. We can be ourselves. We’re free from one lie. Isn’t this the part where our love overcomes our addictions? Where our problems magically solve from a kiss and a promise?
No one told me you can love someone and still be miserable. How is that possible? And yet, the thought of walking away from Loren Hale collapses my lungs. We’ve been friends, allies, for so long that I don’t know who I am without him. Our lives intersect at every possible junction, and separating sounds like a fatal, irreparable cut.
A fist bangs on the door. “Loren Hale!” Connor calls. “You better wake up. You promised me gym. I want gym.” Lo reluctantly leaves my side and lets him in. “You’re on time,” he says flatly, going back to the kitchen. “Always am.” He watches Lo grab a bottle of vodka from the freezer. “You know, it’s barely noon. Brain cells generally don’t respond well to alcohol this early. Gatorade is the better option.”
My willpower starts dying out. I need him. I want him. I am seconds from crumbling and taking him for myself. Swiftly, he catches my sides in two hands. He leans down to my ear. “Please come.” His husky voice sends me to bad places. I hold in a noise. “I’ll make it up to you there.” He whispers exactly what he wants to do to me at the gym. I can’t say no to this. I can barely say no to anything. He’s buying his forgiveness through my weakness. It’s like me screwing up and sending him a gift basket full of expensive whiskey.
I pull my knees to my chest and catch Connor pausing his workout to argue with another guy over the television remote. “We should ditch him.” It’s the easiest solution to our problems. He’s the interloper, the guy forcing us to confront our problems, to truly stare and see them for what they are. I don’t want to think about any of it. I also blame Ryke for planting guilt-ridden seeds in my head. “He’s okay,” Lo says, bringing the handles to his chest again. He lets out a long breath and releases. “He’s probably the biggest prick I’ve ever met, but he’s not perfect, even if he thinks he is.”
“Shouldn’t I let you have boy time?” I’m the intruder, the needy girlfriend who hangs around. It’s hard to know the proper protocol for moments like this since we’ve always been each other’s only friend. Lo considers this for about two seconds before he grimaces. “Fuck that. Come on.” He motions for me with two fingers. I don’t think he’s being overtly sexual, but good God, he can’t do that to me right now. I look up, just as he spins around, and glimpse a fragment of a smile.
“Because, Lily Calloway, you seem like the type of girl who will never return my calls.” He motions for me to follow with his fingers, as though I’m a pet dog. “Let’s go.”
It hurts to see Lo drink so excessively. It hurts to watch him depend on one drink after the next, and I constantly fear the day where it becomes too much. But I always bury those worries with carnal pleasures and a natural high. My voice softens. “Why do you want to fix him so badly?” Ryke stares at me with more empathy than I thought he was capable of. “My father is an alcoholic, and I don’t want Lo to turn out like him. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”
“I want you to lie to your boyfriend so that he has a chance to get better. You think you can do that, Lily? Or are you going to be fucking selfish and let him continue this destructive path? One day, he may never wake up. One day, his body may shut down. And you’re going to think back to this moment and wonder why you didn’t agree to this proposition—why you didn’t try something else to help your boyfriend.” I stumble back, punched in the gut. “I don’t want him to die,” I murmur. “Then do something about it.”
“We have company,” I remind him. “Like I give a shit,” Lo whispers. He kisses me hard, stealing my breath, and my back arches to meet his pelvis. His hand slips into my jeans pocket.
His lips find my ear, and I have a feeling he’s glaring at Ryke as he whispers to me, “I’m going to take you so hard, you’re going to come with every thrust. And when you’re swollen and wet, all it’s going to take is me inside of you. I won’t even have to move for you to cry out.” Yes.
“Lily…” His amber eyes glass over. Is he about to tell me to stop? I frown in confusion. “What?” After a long moment, he whispers, “Nothing.” He releases his hold, and I watch his cheeks sharpen to ice.
Connor slides over a measly pawn. “Check.” “What?” Lo gapes. “But that…Oh.” He rolls his eyes. “There’s no way for me to win, is there?” Connor smiles as he picks up his beer. “I’d say you could win the next one, but you won’t.”
Rose holds up a hand to his face, as if pausing the argument, and sets her icy gaze on us. “You both really can’t be friends with this asshole. Actually”—she points at Lo—“I believe you can, but you, Lily, really?” Lo smirks. “Keep it coming, Rose. You’re just making me love the guy more.” Oh jeez. And to make matters more complicated, Connor looks amused by the continuation of this madness. He sticks his hands in his pockets, at ease.
I’d like Rose to give Connor a chance. If anyone can verbally keep up with her, he can. But she pushes men away as much as I used to lead them in. Her body language stays closed off—her face as icy as before. “That’s really funny. Nice joke.” Oh no, Rose, he’s not joking. I want to tell her that this isn’t some cruel trick to make fun of her. She has guards up so she won’t get hurt. It’s easier to be cold than to feel the sting of disappointment. “It isn’t one,” he tells her, taking another step. Her feet stay cemented to the floor, a good sign. “I have tickets to The Tempest.” I chime in,
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“You’re so weird,” she says. Her arm drops off her hip and her stance finally loosens. Yes! He takes one more step, officially inches from her, the closest I’ve seen her to a man—or child—in a long, long time. Lo whispers to me, “Are we in an alternate universe?” I nod. “Yep, we’ve definitely left Earth 616.” And I love it.
“About Rose…” “Yes?” “I like you, Connor. I do, but I also know you’re a social climber. I may look small and not put up much of a fight when it comes to words, but I’d find a way to hurt you if you hurt her. She should mean more to a guy than a paycheck and a last name.” Connor pockets his cell. “Lily,” he says. “If I wanted to date for a last name, I’d have a girl on my arm every single day. I would never be single.” He leans forward. “I promise you, that my intentions are pure. And I think it’s sweet you’re looking out for Rose, but she’s more than capable of taking care of herself, which
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“I have to figure out what I’m going to wear tonight.” “Are you serious?” Lo snaps. “You’re going on a date with the devil. All you need is some pepper spray and a fire extinguisher.”
“Do you want to break up?” I say bluntly. His breathing shallows. “No. I love you, Lil.” He holds my hand. “Look, I’ll try harder. We both will.” I’m not surprised by the sudden proclamation. We fight one minute and then try to make up the next. It’s why we’ve lasted so long. And I suppose, the fear of losing each other is always stronger than the pain we cause.
I need him more than he needs me. His vice is a bottle of whiskey. Mine is his body. So when we fight, I’m the one who loses out in the end. “Do you want to break up?” he offers me the same out. It’d be easier to let him go, to return to our regular rituals, but now that I’ve had him, I can’t imagine not being swept in his arms and being fulfilled to the highest degree. He’s my drug that I gladly consume, and I think that’s what he fears most. He enables my addiction. Always has. And the longer we’re together, he always will.
“You should go,” he suggests. “I want to apologize first.” “Why?” Connor’s tone stays flat and edged. I’ve insulted him or disgusted him in some way. The one person I thought was unable to be repulsed by me. “She needs to know I’m sorry.” “She sold her line to Macy’s and has an offer from H&M,” Connor tells me. “Don’t ruin that by trying to make yourself feel better. Just leave, Lily.”
“I’m sorry.” I touch my chest. “You don’t know how sorry I am. I promise I’ll be a better sister.” Rose shakes her head, brows furrowing. “Stop, Lily. I’m tired of your promises. You’ll always choose Lo. And the two of you will never give a shit about anyone else. You’re selfish, and unless I want to go through life constantly disappointed, I’ve learned to accept that character flaw. You should do the same.”
Only for Connor Cobalt can achievements wipe slates clean. Lo somehow squirmed back into his good graces too. After the fashion show stunt, I thought we’d be blacklisted from any events with Connor. But I think it all comes down to Rose. His one human weakness happens to be my sister. And if she’s forgiven me, then she’s probably ordered him to do the same.
Connor is the first to break the silence. “I’m going to make some coffee. If you want to go to bed, I understand, but I’d like to talk to you.” I don’t deserve friends, but I try to hold onto them because I fear the blackness and emptiness that waits if I let go. “Can you make me hot chocolate?” I ask. “Even better. You could use some calories.” I sink into the recliner, snuggling into a warm blanket and watch Connor mill about the kitchen like he owns it. I imagine if I ever had a brother, Connor would fit the perfect mold. A little conceited but deep down, even below his people collecting
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“Lily, what do you mean about not being good people?” I let out a short, crazed laugh. Why is it so funny? It’s not. None of this feels right. “We’re selfish and miserable.” I lean my head back. Being in a real relationship was supposed to fix everything. Our love should have mended all the pain and the hurt. Instead, we’re met with more complications, more consequences, more frowns and furrowed brows. “So you closed everyone off?” she questions. “You built a fake relationship to hide away from the rest of us?” Her tone sharpens, beyond hurt, but when I look at her, I see fear and pain and
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“Look at me,” she pleads. Hot tears scald, sliding slowly down my cheeks in fiery lines. I can’t meet her gaze. “You cannot get rid of me, Lily. Nothing you do or say will make me leave. If you don’t tell me now, then I’ll hear of it in a year…” “Stop,” I cry. “…three years, five years, a decade. I’ll wait for you to tell me.” She’s crying—a girl who never cries, who squirms at the sight of tears and a wailing baby. “I love you. You’re my sister. That will never change.” She squeezes my hands. “Okay?”
“You said you both were bad people. You’re helping each other keep secrets, aren’t you?” And then it hits her. “Oh my God, Lily. He never stopped drinking, did he?” When I don’t answer, she leans back in the chair, touching her lips. “Why hadn’t I noticed? He said he stopped partying because you didn’t like it. That was all a lie.” “We’re okay,” I say for the millionth time. “No, you’re not!” she shrieks. “You’re not okay. He got wasted at a bar and passed out while a guy assaulted you!” My face cracks. “It’s okay,” I whisper. Tears flow full-force now. The waterworks pour while I stare at my
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Before I pull away, she wraps her arms around me, squeezing harder, holding tight. “I love you.” I almost start crying again, but I bottle the feelings. I love you too. “I’ll be okay,” I murmur.
“Goddammit, Lily,” he says through clenched teeth. “Just fucking ask me!” “Why?” The word knifes me. A tear escapes and he says, “Because I can. Because when I was eleven-years-old and tasted my first drop of whiskey, I thought it’d bring me closer to my father. Because I felt empowered.” He touches his chest. “Because I never hit anyone. I never drove. I never lost a fucking job or lost any friends that mattered. Because whenever I drank, I didn’t think I was hurting anyone but me.” He takes a shallow breath and rubs a shaky hand through his hair. “That is, until last night. Or maybe for the
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should have been there. I should have stopped the guy. I should have held you in my arms and told you that everything is going to be okay even if it wasn’t. That was my job, no one else’s.” “Where does this leave us?” I ask. Please don’t leave me, I selfishly think. It may be one of my more abhorrent thoughts yet. I bury my head in my arms as the tears avalanche. I can feel him leaving me, drifting away like a breeze.
“I’m an alcoholic.” He’s never said that out loud, never admitted it in that way. “My father is an alcoholic,” he continues, tears spilling down his cheeks and onto my arms. “I can’t just will it away like some fairytale. It’s a part of me.” He rubs my tears with his thumb. “I love you, but I want to love you enough that I never choose alcohol over you. Not even for a moment. I want to be someone you deserve. Who helps you rather than enables you, and I can’t begin to do that until I get help for myself.”
“You’re a bastard child?” Ryke cringes in hurt, and he shakes his head once, so terse and pained that a tear flows from his eye. Lo points to his own chest with a trembling hand. “I’m the bastard?” Ryke nods once. Lo lets out a strange choking sound, and I try to step forward, but Rose holds me back again. Lo wipes his eyes with his arm and inhales strongly.
“You knew about me for seven years? And you didn’t think to meet me?” Lo frowns in deep hurt. “I’m your brother.” “You were also the thing that tore apart my parents,” Ryke says, his voice shaking. “I spent years resenting the idea of you. My mother hated you, and I loved her, so what the fuck was I supposed to believe? And then I went to college, and I gained some distance from her. I started thinking things through, and I came to peace with you. I’d leave you alone. You’d be some sort of wealthy prick that Jonathan Hale would raise. And then I saw you.” Ryke nods to himself, his eyes
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Lo rubs his eyes again. He can’t stop crying. I see the hurt coursing through him like jagged tidal waves, crashing and crashing until he loses breath and focus and drowns beneath the rapids. He screams into his hand—angry, pained, pissed. He slowly drops to his knees and puts a palm on the carpet. “Lo,” Ryke says, bending to him. He tries to help, but Lo swats him away with wild, watery eyes. “Where’s Lily?” he asks, frantic. “Lily!” He whips his head. “Lily!” he cries, searching for me. Rose finally lets me go, and I run into Lo’s arms. He holds me tightly and cries into my shoulder, his
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He clutches onto my dress, and he cries until there are no more tears. I try and pray to hold mine back—to be strong for him. He whispers to me, in a dry voice, “I feel like I’m dying.” “You’re not.” I kiss him on the cheek. “I love you.”
“I don’t know what to do.” “You’re going to rehab,” I say assuredly, even though a pain weighs on my chest. I know this is the right thing. For both of us. “I can’t leave you.” He drops his hand. “It could be months, Lily. I don’t want you with another guy…” “I’m going to be strong,” I tell him, taking his hands in mine. I squeeze. “I’m going to go to therapy.” “Lily…” His pained voice sends daggers to my heart. “I’m going to move in with Rose.” He shuts his eyes and more tears spill.
I’m not surprised when Rose tells me that Lo stepped away from the money. She says it’s the most heroic thing he’s done in his life. The irony is that he’s not saving some damsel in a castle, he’s not rescuing a baby from a burning building—he’s helping himself. Maybe a little bit to save our relationship, but mostly, for him. And that’s the best reason there is. Beneath my fear, I am so, so proud.
Rose rubs my back, and I spin to face her fully. She looks at me with more concern than I thought possible. In the end, it was not a boy who helped me. It was my sister. I hold her hand and say, “Thank you.” Tears build. “I don’t know if I can do this without you.”
“You’ll be able to. Not now, but you’ll get there.” “I’m scared.” My throat hurts. I inhale a strained breath. “What if I cheat on him? What if I can’t wait?” She squeezes my hand. “You will. You’re going to get through this, and I’m going to be there every step of the way.” I wipe my cheeks and then wrap my arms around her, hugging for a long, long time. To say thanks, I’m sorry, and “I love you,” I whisper. She strokes my hair. “I love you too.”
