Addicted for Now (Addicted #3)

by Krista Ritchie

I open my mouth to say something, but I can’t stop my eyes from grazing every inch of him. The way his light brown hair is styled, full on top, shorter on the sides. The way his cheekbones sharpen to make him look deadly and gorgeous. The way he reaches up and rubs his lips, as though hoping they’ll touch mine. He rakes my body with the same impatience, and then his head tilts to the side, our eyes finally meeting. “Hi,” he says, breaking into a breathtaking smile. His chest falls heavily, nearly in sync with my uneven rhythm. “Hi,” I whisper. A large distance separates us, reminding me of when he first left for rehab. Picking up a foot and closing the gap feels like crawling up a ninety-degree angle. I need him to help me reach the top. He takes a step near me, snapping the tension. All these sensations burst in my belly. I love him so much. I missed him so much. For three months, I felt the pain of being separated from my best friend while trying to fight my sexual compulsions. I needed him to tell me that everything was going to be okay. I needed him by my side, but I would never take him away from rehab for my benefit, not when it would be detrimental to his recovery. And I want Lo to be healthy more than anything. And I want him to be happy. “I’m back,” he murmurs. I try to restrain my tears, but they flow unwillingly, sliding from the creases of my eyes. I should be emerging from the doorway to greet him, and he should be the one lingering on the porch stairs. Why ar...

He edges back, and I cling harder, desperate and afraid. He’s a lifeline I cannot quantify or articulate. I depend on him more than any girl should depend on a boy, but he’s been the backbone of my life. Without him, I will fall. “Hey.” He gathers my face in his hands. His glassy eyes bring me back to reality. To the fact that he feels my pain just as I feel his. That’s the problem. We hurt so much for each other that it’s hard to say no. It’s hard to take away the vice that will numb the agony of the day. “I’m here,” he says, a silent tear dripping down his cheek. “We’re going to beat this together.”

“What’s going to happen,” he breathes, “is that I’m going to carry you through this door. I’m going to draw out every single moment until you’re exhausted. And I’m going to move so slow that three months ago will feel like yesterday. And tomorrow will feel like today, and no one in this fucking universe will be able to say your name without saying mine.”

But Connor rubs his lips to keep from smiling further. And when Connor smiles at my sister, I instantly straighten up and lean forward like two orbiting stars are about to touch and kiss. I want to be present when they do.

He brushes off an escaped tear with his thumb. “You’re sick.” I inhale a strained breath. The words from his lips are soul-crushing, even though they’re true. I try and jerk away but his hand slides down the back of my neck. The other one on my shoulder keeps me rooted here. “I’m sick too,” he says, “and there will be times where we’re weak. Where we beg for the things we can’t have. But you can’t be scared of that, Lil. You can’t live your life sleeping on a couch because of it. You just have to believe that you’ll be strong enough in the end. Even if the middle is all fucked up.”

He could be uncaring. But Ryke Meadows is many things—uncaring is definitely not one of them.

My only hope lies in Connor. He’ll have to foil Sebastian’s plans. He’ll have to prove to Rose that he’s the best man for her. I can’t warn him, but if I had to put money on a match between these two, I’d always bet on Connor Cobalt.

“And who sees Loren Hale and immediately thinks alcoholic? Your friends? Because I sure as hell don’t know anyone else in this fucking country who would give a shit.” Venom laces Rose’s words.

“I don’t know how to live without you.” And I shake my head quickly as tears pool. “And I don’t want to know how. I don’t want to find out.” He is my breath. My soul. My life-force. I have spent forever with him. Being apart is the most unnatural feeling in the world. Three months—I could handle that like a bad itch. Forever without him? Just kill me now. He slowly walks to me, and his hand skims my cheek, his eyes never softening, his sharp demeanor never changing. He’s Loren Hale. Ice and whiskey. Powerful and intoxicating. He’s my very best friend. His forehead presses to mine, his lips so near. In a low whisper, he says, “You’ll never have to find out, Lil.” I ache to kiss him, to solidify those words as truth. His lips nearly brush mine, but he teases, a sliver of space tempting me and causing tension to build between us. His amber eyes flicker to me. “I will never learn how to live without you. I couldn’t fucking bear it.”

“If the whole world says living without each other is what we should do, then this will be the last wrong I make.” Yes. We connect to each other fully, his lips touching mine in passionate desperation, as though two people are literally trying to pull us apart, as though we’re giving them the middle finger, telling them to fuck off. Fuck off. I love Loren Hale. I can’t live without him. However silly that may be, it is the undying truth. Even if he was with another girl. Even if we never could touch. I could not live without Lo. He is as much a part of me as the sun is a part of the sky, as the Earth is to the universe. I need him in order to wake up in the morning. I need him to feel whole.

He’s taking care of me. Only Lo can satisfy every part of my all-consuming soul. He is truly my everything.

Even thinking about letting her go puts a pain so deep in my gut. No one knows me like Lily Calloway. She’s my best friend, and without her—God, what’s the point?

Everything I ever wanted is right here in my arms. I wish I could stay like this forever, but eventually we come together—in a surge of bliss and longing.

“We all have secrets; the ones we keep, and the ones that are kept from us.” – PETER PARKER, THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN

“Who is it?” Rose calls from inside. “Lo.” I glance over my shoulder. Ryke and Connor watch me in curiosity by the balcony doors, not attempting to infiltrate the exclusive club that the Calloway girls have. For the first time, I’m a little nervous that the girls won’t invite me in. I’ve always been allowed to be with them. I’m Lily’s other half. But things have changed, I realize. Rose has a boyfriend. I have a brother. Two more guys have been added to our dynamic, and I could easily be grouped off with them. So when the door swings open and Lily grabs my shirt, pulling me inside, I can’t help but grin. I feel kind of fucking special. I kiss her almost immediately and while my tongue slides into her mouth, she pushes the door closed with her foot.

I know that if I didn’t care so much about Lily—or have Ryke here to glare at me—I would have already broken my sobriety. And then Connor makes me want to be a better person—however lame that sounds.

Regardless, I think being inside Connor Cobalt’s head would be both terrifying and strange, and yet the most expensive amusement ride there is.

“Hey, she’s a virgin, not a fucking leper.” I point a finger at him. “And if you dump her because of this then you’re a fucking prick. There are a million guys who would gladly be with Rose. For whatever reason, you met her incredibly high standards, and if you hurt her because she’s not experienced, I swear to God, Connor, you are going to wish you never met me.” I finish my rant, surprising myself as much as Connor. I’ve learned a lot about myself being sober. I guess I’m kind of protective of Lily, Daisy, and even Rose.

“I don’t know,” I say, “but I’ve spent more time seeing her with other guys than being with her, so I guess I can understand how it might be natural—for her—to just fall back into that.” “To cheat,” Ryke clarifies. I give him a glare. “Yeah,” I snap, “but if it happens, it happens, right?” Even the thought, though, devastates me. “I don’t think it will,” Ryke says. I jerk back in shock. He’s never been an advocate for Lily. “And why is that?” “Because I think she loves you more than she loves sex. And you love her more than you love alcohol, but you two just haven’t let yourselves believe it yet.”

I want to go back in time. I want to tell myself that I don’t need to sleep around to satisfy this emptiness in me. That the guy I love is right there in front of my eyes. That he can be more than a friend. That I don’t need anyone else in the whole universe but Loren Hale.

“One day, you're going to have to make a choice. You have to decide what kind of man you want to grow up to be. Whoever that man is, good character or bad, is going to change the world.” – JONATHAN KENT, MAN OF STEEL

I think the six of us—we’re all strong. We’re each just a different kind of strong. But we all have a different kind of weak too. And I’m figuring out how to bottle my weakness to help them all. I’m not going to be the villain of my own story. That shit is done.

Ryke nods to me. “You going to give me an out too?” “No, if I’m going down, you’re burning with me.” “Does that qualify as a brotherly obligation?” “For me, yeah.”

“Two weeks or one year, it doesn’t make a difference to me, Lil. I’d marry you tomorrow if it’d make you happy.”

As we walk towards the doors, he says, “And when I find the leak, he’s going to wish that he never fucked with our family. I can promise you that.”

Ryke is probably worried that I resent him. He wished I wasn’t alive. But truth is, I kind of did too. Until I looked at Lily. Until I talked to her. I don’t think I could have survived this life without that girl.

“Why do you love me, Lil?” “Lo, really, where are you?” Concern spikes her voice. “Just answer me.” I let out a long breath. “Please. Why do you love me?” I grip the phone harder, tears clouding my vision. “When we were eleven, we were at your house, reading comics,” she says, and for some reason I know exactly which memory she’s trying to draw for me. We were on my bed, surrounded by several open and splayed X-Men comics, and we would read the same one at the same time. She’d wait patiently for me to hurry up, her eyes skimming the panels quickly while I soaked in each line, each bleed of color. “Do you remember?” she asks after a long pause. “Yeah,” I say, my voice shaking. “We both knew you were kind of like Hellion. You make the wrong choices, even when you know where the right ones lie.” I nod to myself, tears spilling. I try to breathe a full breath, but the pain chokes me. “But that day, you said you aspired to be Cyclops. Scott Summers was strong. He took care of everyone in the face of crisis. He was a man that people wanted by their side.” Her voice shakes too, like she’s near tears. “Lo,” she says, “you’ve made it. You’re my Scott Summers, and without you, I wouldn’t be here.” I close my eyes and let that sink in. She doesn’t have to say, I love you because… The sentiment is attached to each and every word. She loves me because she believes I’m strong. She loves me because she’s a part of me. She loves me because I’ve become a better man through all of this.

“Underneath this rough, I-hate-myself-and-everyone-around-me exterior is a good guy. And I think that you have the ability to accomplish great things if you just start forgiving yourself.” “For what?” “I think you know what.” “Well, you’re so keen on giving personal opinions, why don’t you tell me,” I snap. He doesn’t. Instead he grabs his pen, leans back in his chair and clicks a couple times. “Sometimes the person we think we’ll become is the person we already are, and the person we truly become is the person we least expect.” He clicks his pen again and points it at me. “There’s your fortune cookie wisdom.” I think he’s telling me that I have a chance. That the life I imagined—where I become the self-loathing man behind a desk, where I become my father—doesn’t have to be the one meant for me.

“I can’t!” Ryke screams. “My mother fucking ruined your life! None of this would have happened if it weren’t for⁠—” And then Lo pulls him to his chest, for a hug. Ryke hesitates for a second, and I wonder if he’s going to release his aggression on Lo by punching him. Instead, he fists the back of Lo’s shirt, and they stay like that, with Ryke choking, with his body vibrating in agony and guilt, and Lo clutching tightly, not letting go. “It’s not your fault,” Lo says, holding onto his older brother. Many months ago, the roles were reversed. Lo would have never been strong enough to be a support for someone else, especially someone that hardly ever breaks down.

“Listen to me,” Lo breathes in his ear. “Meeting you was the best thing that’s ever happened to us. I’m sober and Lily’s in recovery. None of that would have been possible if it wasn’t for you.” He shakes Ryke, and a tear slips out of Lo’s eye. “You are the fucking reason I’m with the girl I love; you’re my brother, so don’t you ever feel guilty for what’s happened now. That’s not on you.” He holds up Ryke’s face to look him in the eyes.

I set my sights on Lily again. She is my past, my present, my future. So when I open the door and slide into the driver’s seat, I’m not surprised that it feels like I’m returning home.

Red petals decorate the bedroom floor while burning candles flicker on the dresser and nightstand. It’s simple and perfect. I drop to my knee. Her hands press to her lips, and I see that gaudy ring on her hand glinting back at me. It represents coercion and deception, all the wrong reasons for a marriage that should be filled with love. We have lived through lies for too long. I’m ready for this to be honest, not another sham. I’m so ready for her to take it off. Her eyes have already welled with tears and I haven’t even spoken yet. I pull out a small box from my pocket. Colorful and wrapped in comic book strips.

“Lily Calloway, will you marry me? For real this time?” I open the box, and a ruby cut into a heart sparkles back at her. Diamonds circle it. “Yes!” She jumps a little, tears seeping out of the corners of her eyes. I rise to my feet, and with one kiss, I have her planted firmly back on Earth. She tangles her fingers in my hair and lets me deepen the kiss.

“I love it, Lo.” Her eyes twinkle as they meet mine. “I love you more.” After all we’ve been through. Years and years of mistakes, it feels like a dream to be here in this moment. Right now. Sober. Alive. With her.

“I have another proposal. Or…more like a confession.” “Is it bad?” she whispers. “Terrible.” She doesn’t pull away from our closeness and her eyes flit to my lips. “I can handle it.” “I don’t know about that.” Her lips twitch as she recognizes the tone of my voice. Oh, how I do love teasing her. I nudge my nose with hers before my lips find her ear. I nip it softly before I say, “I confess, that I’d very much like to make love to you.” My heart flips at the last words. We never say make love. We fuck. We screw. We bang. Making love is for the soft-hearted without tar-coated pasts. Lily claims she doesn’t deserve to make love, but I’m determined to change her attitude. “Is it different than fucking?” she asks me with wide eyes. “Very much so.” Frown lines crease her forehead. “How?” “I’ll show you.” Her eyes brighten with possibilities, but she doesn’t insist, doesn’t ask or compel me for more. She waits for me. Just as I asked.