Hothouse Flower (Calloway Sisters #2)

by Krista Ritchie

A NOTE FROM RYKE

OH? this is new omg

Because once you enter my life, I won’t ever let you leave.

i don't mind, ryke !!

I’d finally find peace and forget about all the lies that clung to me.

My mom was Sara Hale. My dad was Jonathan Hale. I was no one’s son.

I couldn’t believe I thought he was fucking cool when I was nine years old. He had acted like we were bonding, letting me drink his whiskey. Father and son. Like he loved me enough to let me break some fucking rules. But I wondered if it was all just some ploy to make me as miserable as him.

Our relationship balances somewhere between rocky and stable, but it was never meant to be perfect.

I can’t explain why I love him so much. Maybe because he’s the only person who understands what it’s like to be manipulated by Jonathan for his gain. Or maybe because I know deep down there’s a soul that needs love more than anyone else, and I can’t help but reciprocate to the fullest degree.

“Not fucking happening, little brother.” I don’t say it with scorn. I never do. And I never will.

AW

Friends aren’t forever. They’re not even for a while. They come into your life and they leave when something or someone changes. Nothing grounds them to you. Not blood or loyalty. They’re just…fleeting.

i would be daisy's friend

On the outside, we probably look like a couple, gently rising from the morning sunlight that peeks through my curtains. On the inside, there’s no touching. No kissing. Nothing beyond friendship status. Reality is a whole lot more complicated.

WAIT RYKE?

“The better fucking question is when did you go to sleep?” He stares at me with narrowed, accusatory eyes. Never. But he knows this too. “Good news, I finished packing in the wee hours of the night.” He rises and nears me a little. I tense at his closeness, reminded that he’s a man, his body easily dwarfing mine. It’s not a bad tense. More like the kind of tense that stops my breath for a second. That makes my head float and my heart do a weird little dance. I like it. The danger of it all. “Bad news, I don’t give a fuck about your packing,” he says roughly. “I just give a fuck about you.” He reaches across my chest to grab a pill bottle off my nightstand. His muscles constrict as he accidentally brushes against my boobs.

HE'S IN HER BED???

You know that theory I have about friends not being forever...or even for a while? Well, every theory has an exception. Ryke is mine. As I watched each friend call me a sex-addict-in-training and a media whore, stabbing me routinely in the heart, Ryke was the one who pulled out the blades. He even shielded me from them. He’s like my wolf—dangerous, alluring and protective—but I can never get close enough or else he’ll bite me. He’s my last real friend. But I know that’s not entirely true. He’s the only real one I’ve ever had.

OMG

“I don’t know. Right now, I’m really disturbed by the fact that I knew you didn’t sleep because you didn’t scream or kick me. If you don’t wake me in the middle of the night, it means you were up the whole fucking time.” He shakes his head as he continues to think. “When you’re in Paris, are you sharing a room with another model?” “No,” I say. “No, I wouldn’t.” Because she’d hear me scream, and I’d have to explain why I have these intense nightmares. And no one knows but Ryke. Not my sisters: Lily and Rose. Not Rose’s husband. Not Lily’s fiancé (who happens to be Ryke’s brother). Just him. It’s a secret he’s kept for half a year. When I graduated from prep school about four months ago, I moved out of my parent’s house and into a Philly apartment. Things got a little worse, so he spends the night. At first he just crashed on the couch. But I couldn’t sleep, and his proximity helped keep my anxiety at bay.

OMG

Ryke knows my fears pretty well because I never lie to him. Two years ago, when I was sixteen, he held out my motorcycle helmet, about to teach me how to ride a Ducati. He said, “For us to have any kind of friendship, you can’t pretend with me. I’ve been involved in lies most of my fucking life, and it’s not something I’m particularly fond of. So you can cut the I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m little and naïve bullshit. I don’t play that game. I never will.” It took me a full minute to process the gravity of his words. But I understood them. In order to be his friend, I couldn’t save face. I had to be me. It wasn’t a lot to ask. But back then, I’m not even sure I knew who I was. “Okay,” I accepted. So far, I’ve kept my word. No lies. And in turn, I’ve opened up more to Ryke than I have to anyone else. Plus, he’s been the only one here long enough to listen.

“Well, you have my number,” he says. “Don’t be afraid to fucking call me, okay?” I nod, and he climbs off my bed and goes to my dresser, searching through the bottom drawer for some of his clothes that he keeps here.

And his brows do this thing where they furrow hard, like he’s in a bad mood. But really, he’s just brooding. It’s his normal expression, one that’s insanely attractive in this possessive—I will protect you even if it fucking kills me—quality that I didn’t think I would like until I met him. And it drew me in like this magnetic pull or a moth to a flame. All those cheesy things people say about attraction. But below the physical connection (which I’m sure isn’t too hard for any girl to possess with a guy like Ryke Meadows) there’s something more strong and pure. A friendship built from three years of non-fucking. Of talking and laughing and yes, maybe a little bit of flirting. And below that. There is only need. I didn’t realize it was there—that need—until the nightmares of my dreams became the nightmares of my life. And he’s the kind of guy who wants to slay all those monsters for me. Too bad he can’t get to the ones in my head. Even if he tries.

OMG

He looks kinda like someone you’d dream about waking up next to but never really think you would. Despite this darkness that often swirls in his eyes, there’s a hardness along his jaw that’s dangerous, unapproachable, something that instantly hypnotizes me. I can’t look away. Even though I should. His eyes narrow with each ticking second. “Don’t look at me like that, Daisy.” “I’m not looking at you like anything.” “I can tell when someone’s attracted to me,” he says without missing a beat. “How?” I want that power that he has. I want to know if he finds me desirable. But maybe he never will. His gaze falls to my shirt that reveals a little bit of my stomach. He inhales deeply, and something switches in his eyes, a look that says you’re fucking beautiful. I want to touch you. He’s never stared at me like that before—and if he has, he’s kept it from me. I wish it didn’t affect me, but I can feel the back of my neck grow hot. I try to keep my composure, not wanting to be another silly girl that crumbles in his wake. He just barely licks his bottom lip as his gaze rakes me over. And then his eyes return to mine again, and they’re hard once more. “That’s the look you were giving me, sweetheart.” Oh. He called me sweetheart. I linger on that for a second, not hearing anything else really.

His lips twitch into an almost-smile. And almost-smiles from Ryke are practically grins. I’ll take ‘em.

My arm accidentally makes contact with his abs like his did earlier with my boobs. But he’s not wearing a shirt like me. So his warm skin heats my cheeks, and I feel his muscles constrict. I look up and he stares down. One of us has to step back first, but we both stay rooted. He ends up putting on the shirt that’s in his hand, but he stands so close to me while he dresses. I watch his muscles stretch as he fits his head through the collar and arms through the holes. When the cotton falls to his waist, hiding his abs, he meets my gaze once more, as though testing to see whether that helped eliminate any unburied tension. Nope. In fact, I only think it heightened the pull that says to connect with his body and elevated the strain that says don’t draw away. He fixes my hair that he just messed, combing the strands with his fingers so it doesn’t look like I had sex or something. “Daisy, are you in there?!” my mom shouts, worry lacing her voice. Go, I mouth to Ryke. He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear and then takes a moment to open the bathroom door.

OMFG

I have a habit of tossing things and forgetting about them.

real

“Then she can call me a ‘disrespectful degenerate’ to my face.” Yeah, she said that the last time she was here. Ryke was hiding in the bathroom then too, and he heard every insult. “Hey, I stuck up for you then and before that, and before that.”

i love the way they defend each other

I’ve been around too many half-dressed, nearly-naked male models to be that alarmed. But it’s different when you know the person. It’s different when you have a crush on a guy beyond just his body, when you like all of him. And I like all of Ryke Meadows.

I’m about to leave, to give him privacy, but he says, “Come here.” He’s by the sink. And I watch as he opens his toothpaste and squirts a line on his toothbrush and then a line on mine. He holds out my green Oral B. I take it gratefully, and we both brush our teeth at the same time, pretending not to look at each other through the mirror, even when we do. It’s like we’re a couple. But we’re not. And we never can be. Some things are too complicated to ever come to pass. I know this is one of those things.

WHAT IS HAPPENING

Try my absolute fucking best to stroke my cock without thinking of her long legs and that gorgeous fucking smile. Usually I succeed. Sometimes I don’t.

OMG WHAT

I should be used to this shit by now, but I’m not. I don’t think I can ever be, not after I watched a fearless girl go from being completely fucking fine to scared of the dark to traumatized. It’s not just the cameras and invasive media. It’s everything that comes with it—her fucked up old prep school friends being one of those.

Daisy probably had a harder fucking time getting to her sisters’ place than me. I should have left with her. She lives two floors below me in the same apartment complex. I could have distracted the paparazzi while she rode off in another direction, but I didn’t. I left late because I was researching about Ambien, cognitive fucking therapy, other sleeping medication—anything to solve Daisy’s problem. And I’m still at a loss of how to help her sleep without medication.

i swear he doesn't think of anything but daisy

“Why the fuck are they in the bathroom together?” Lo shakes his head at me. “I tried to ask and Rose rebutted with female menstruation. And then she slammed the door in my face.” Connor says, “I was smart enough not to question it.”

LMAO

“You too much of a princess to help Lo?” I ask, stealing a slice of apple from a fruit tray. “I offered to break the eggs, but Lo said I should beat them into submission,” Connor tells me. Now I do roll my eyes. “Might as well put your best skill to use,” Lo says, passing the bowl of eggs and whisk to Connor.

LMAO

It’s not the first time they’ve gossiped like fucking girls.

connor and lo are in love fr

“You’re going to have to be a little more specific, Lo. I can’t grasp what you’re saying with two words.” “Sorry,” Lo says dryly. “I forgot you aren’t Connor.” Connor smiles.

LMAO

I hate lying to him, and I’ve done it before. Each time never gets easier. I can see the thick fog I’ve created, the one that clouds my relationship with Lo. But I’m not my father, hurting his sons to protect his own reputation. I lie to protect Daisy. To protect Lo. I lie because it’s going to hurt less than the truth. And when the truth does come out, I want to make sure that Lo is strong enough to bear it. Right now, he’s not even fucking close. So I can’t say, Yeah, man, I’ve stopped dating for four fucking months because I’ve been busy taking care of your girlfriend’s little sister, spending nights at her place, even sleeping in her bed just so she can stop being so fucking scared. And I don’t miss those other girls, but I do miss being laid.

We’ve been through this for over two years. And he still looks at me like I’m one second from betraying him, like I’m going to choose a girl over him, like I’m going to cross a big fucking line that will destroy the relationships that matter to me. I wouldn’t. I fucking won’t. Because at the end of the day, if Daisy and I got together, if something happened and we broke up, I’d lose my brother. She’s like his little sister. He grew up with the Calloway girls. Daisy has known him her whole fucking life. I’ve known Lo for three years. For fuck’s sake, I am the thing that can be tossed aside. Everything’s confusing. Nothing makes complete sense. My dick says one thing. My head says another. I have morals. I have Lo’s constant warnings. I have five kinds of wrong and no kinds of right.

Maybe the point of my fucking life is to help my brother get on his feet.

ryke is such a good brother

“I’m going to go check on Daisy in the garage,” I tell them, avoiding any plans they have to convince me to see Jonathan Hale. And plus, I want to know what she’s fucking doing alone in there.

We each have our roles, and I know mine is to keep an eye on this girl and that guy. I just don’t ever want to be faced with the decision of having to choose between them. If that day comes, then fuck me.

he's so selfless

Her carefree nature always fucking draws me to her—even when I wish I could stay fifteen feet away. It doesn’t help that her legs are spread apart. I’m so fucking thankful she’s single right now. I hate her ex-boyfriends, and I hate how men look at her and all they see is a girl they believe they can mount. They can’t. She’s out of their fucking league, and yet, she entertains them, too nice not to. It pisses me off.

OMG

“It’s for your road trip to California,” she explains. “I marked some places that are supposed to be cool.” “You also drew a fucking smiley face over North Dakota.” “That’s because North Dakota is the happiest state. Everyone knows that.” She grins, brightness in her eyes that I haven’t seen in a while. It’s gorgeous beyond fucking words. But at night, that light starts to slowly wane. It’s like Daisy Calloway is powered by the sun.

“I’ve forgotten the source, but I’m sure it was credible.” “Yeah, says the girl who reads her horoscope every day.” She mock gasps. “How did you know that? Have you been reading my diary?” “No, I’ve just been sleeping in your bed.” “I thought that was some other guy,” she says.

i love that daisy is also an astrology girl

She likes to tease, to see how far she can push me, and I’ve never had a girl play with me like that, with confidence that radiates. It drives me fucking nuts, and I find myself wanting to be around her even more, seeking those give-and-take moments and her fucking joy.

THE TENSION

“You’ve let other guys in your bed?” I question with the rise of my brows. Anger burns my muscles as I imagine the losers she’s been with, all fucking her, all older. Don’t think about it. “Not lately.” Her oversized sweater snags on the handle behind her, almost flashing me. “Oops.” My body heats, and the only thing that stops any kind of arousal is the idea of another strange guy getting hard at the sight of her. I don’t want to be one of them. She adjusts her shirt, and I read the words stitched on her chest: Ooh la la. I think it’s been about a year since she started choosing clothes with sayings—kind of like her way of talking back to the paparazzi without speaking. It’s cute.

he gets so jealous and protective omg

I don’t dismiss her wild fantasies. Last week, we took the wheels off a skateboard and tried to balance on a sideways trashcan. It was more fun than it fucking sounds. But this—me on a motorcycle with her facing me—it’s an image that’s too fucking intimate. I don’t even know if she realizes this.

And with every daring event, I’ve been there, by her side, carrying her almost every time she’s fallen.

he's like her hero and knight

This doesn’t feel fucking good. And yet, I always end up back at this place with her because I love her company so fucking much. “You’re right. It’s kind of uncomfortable in this position,” she teases. “We don’t fit well at all.” Her lips lift in a mischievous grin again. “I know how we could fit better—” Fuck me.

AHHH

I just wish her first time wasn’t so fucking awful. And I kind of wish she stopped at the first guy and waited for someone better. Like…no one. I don’t think anyone is good enough for her. Yeah, it’s fucking selfish. I don’t care.

he's killing me

“So you like older women then?” “I like all women, sweetheart.” She wears a crooked smile. “You like me?” Fuck me. “Daisy—”

I try not to look at her as anything more than she can be. But she’s gorgeous, not because she has this natural fucking beauty—no makeup and bold green eyes, smooth skin and a delicate face. She’s beautiful because she can make the saddest person in the world grin. And she can make the loneliest guy feel something more. She’s youthful and wild. Primal and really fucking innocent. She’s all these things that scream big fucking risk.

“Connor also called you a dog,” I say with a crinkled nose. “Do you think I’m the cat to your dog or am I like a squirrel?” “How’d we get to this place?” he asks like this is the stupidest ‘fucking’ conversation. “I’m a hamster, aren’t I?” I stick out my bottom lip. “You’re not a fucking hamster.” He rolls his eyes and runs his hand through his hair. I don’t think he realizes how hot he is when he does that. “You’re a bird.” “A bird.” “Yeah a fucking bird that won’t stop flying or squawking.” “Like an eagle?” “You’re prettier than an eagle.”

OH

“Someone who’s scared.” I’m not as fearless as my sisters would like to believe. “You’re not a fucking coward. You’re just with the wrong guys.”

I’ve had that skydiving and racing my motorcycle down a steep hill alongside Ryke. That’s as orgasmic as I’ve ever been. “Sex is stupid,” I tell him. “It is when you’re with guys who can’t satisfy you.” I flush at his words. “Rose just told me to try it with more guys and see what happens.” Ryke looks ready to spring off the bike and go track down my sister. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

he's SO jealous omg

But I do care about Lo a lot. He’s always been another extension of my family in a sense. He started as Lily’s best friend. Then her boyfriend. Now fiancé. And she always brought him on Calloway vacations. He was her plus one. To say he’s like a big brother to me would be accurate.

i wish we saw more of daisy and lo's friendship