Thrive (Addicted #4)

by Krista Ritchie

Connor and Rose are full-on making out. Like passionate, powerful kisses that would occur after pent-up emotions from a fight. He’s in control, one hand on her ass, their lips never disconnecting as he walks her backwards. Her shoulders hit the wall.

At first I think she’s talking about Connor and Rose. To me, it means that their nerd love is in full orbit. Where it should be.

“I’m doing this, Lo. With or without you. So if it’s without you, then we’re not going to be seeing each other all that much for six months.” Six months without her. It’s never happened before. I try to wrack my brain for a memory that doesn’t consist of Lily for that period of time, and I can’t come up with a single one. The only future I want is the one that ends with her.

Apparently the girls have to wear clothes from the Calloway Couture line—for promotion. Thankfully she doesn’t look like Rose.

She still has that delicate round face, the gangly arms and legs. She’s adorable. In every sense of the word. And she’s all mine to take care of. I take a step closer to Lily and rest my hand above her head. When I stare down at her, she parts her lips in questioning like are you flirting with me? I force back a smile. Yes, I’m flirting with you, Lil.

“Didn’t you hear?” My lips curve upward. “I’m the biggest tease in Princeton.” I pause, smiling wider. “And Philadelphia.” She lightly punches my arm. My brows rise. “Is that a love tap?” She hits me harder. I rub my arm and mock wince. “Are you working out, Lil?”

I stare right at Brett and ask, “You want to know how I satiate a sex addict?” When I shift my gaze to Lily, she already holds her breath. I tilt her chin up, forcing her eyes to mine. And then I kiss her. Deeply. Passionately. Like we were born to share oxygen.

It’s a hunger that only compulsives and addicts know well. It’s why people look away when we kiss.

I’m going to love Lily how I want to love her. Overwhelmingly, uncompromisingly.

Jesus, maybe this reality show will actually do some good.

“What do you want at the wedding?” Our wedding. Now I really grimace. Shit. I train myself not to glance back at the cameras. We’re being married for appearance’s sake, even though it’ll be real. I love every single part of Lily, but I hate that this day is being dictated by her mom and my dad. I’d rather just elope. But that’s not part of the “image rehabilitation” plan. “I don’t really care,” she says in a small voice. I shrug. “Me either. Just tell her to choose.” Lily nods, her shoulders drooped. When she finishes texting back, I pull her close and wrap her in my arms. I don’t say anything. I just hold her. Six months until our wedding—yeah, shit just got real.

I gasp. “You can read my mind now? Your superpower finally kicked in.” “No,” he breathes, staring down at me. “I just know you too well.” Oh. “Will you let me know when you get your superpower?”

“I’m six-foot-three,” Ryke corrects with hardened brows. Daisy shrugs. “Same thing.” “No,” Ryke says a single word. Daisy tries not to smile. “I’ve also never shared a shower with a guy before.”

Lo clutches my hand as we walk. “Maybe they found mold or something.” Good theory. “Maybe a turtle had babies in the bathtub.” Lo considers this and then says, “And the shower is definitely full of snakes.” “Monkeys,” I add. “There’s a monkey nest in the cabinet.” I picture Jumanji, a full out zoo inside the bathroom with ivy and deadly plants. Killer bees come next. “Monkeys don’t have nests,” Lo says. Where do monkeys live then? “You two are fucking weird,” Ryke says. Our imaginations are vast. It doesn’t help that we love comic books more than reality.

“It’s not going to happen,” Lo cuts him off. “Connor already ran a background check on him.” “I don’t have as much faith in Connor as you do,” Ryke whispers. Lo actually pats his brother’s back and says, “Then have faith in me.”

gid help me.

“Are you sure you can’t read my mind?” I whisper, the humor lost in my voice. He hugs me close. There is nowhere safer than in Loren Hale’s arms.

“Do you jack off in the shower?” Daisy asks casually to Ryke, a smile to her voice. It instantly causes Lo to tense. She’s become almost too open around his brother. Ryke doesn’t miss a beat. “I don’t have to jack off, sweetheart.” “Wow, the pent up frustration must hurt then,” she says with sarcasm. “No wonder you’re so moody.” “Fucking hilarious.” And then he undoes her bun, sliding her hairband on his wrist and messing her long locks with a rough hand.

I know what it feels like to be so magnetized by someone that you forget about your surroundings. My lips part at a sudden realization. Ryke may be actually falling for my sister.

“Have you dated a fan?” she asks. Lo interjects, “Yeah he has. Twice so far. And they were his age.”

I’ve considered dating a fan, but most of mine are too old.” “Like twenty-three?” Lo wonders, his voice biting. I wince. That’s Ryke’s age. “No, more like thirty-five.” I’m pretty sure Daisy is picking up all the hints. She’s just dismissing them with ease.

“She likes you way too much,” Lo says. “Look, I’m trying to shut her down without hurting her fucking feelings,” Ryke retorts. “But she’s my friend. I’m not going to push her away completely.”

“No, I’m not doing great. I just feel sorry for you, man. For six months, you’re going to watch us drive our expensive cars, attend our exclusive parties, and fly our private jets. And when it’s all over, you’ll go home to your one-bedroom apartment in LA and realize that you’ll never have our lifestyle. You’ll never amount to anything other than a second-rate producer of a garbage reality show.” I touch my chest. “That just makes me feel so fucking sad for you.”

God, drinking is so much better than dealing with this bullshit.

If I’m being honest, I’d prefer my brother over her sisters.

“I’m thoroughly surprised you two haven’t jumped on each other yet,” he says, his gaze pinned to the painting. “It might be a new record.” “You don’t know us,” Lily combats. “You’re a sex addict,” he says. “You want the short definition?” He licks his lips. “You like to ride dick.”

I hate that he embarrassed her. I hate that he’s shaming her. More importantly, I hate that nothing I say does any fucking damage to him.

This is the point where I’d walk away and start fucking with his life. I’d ruin him from the inside out. His career. His money. I’d utilize the tools my father gave me to destroy a man. But I can’t. I can’t do that this time.

do it no balls

“Skip tomorrow, fine, but I’m going to have to start being careful when I come on you.” She frowns. “You haven’t done that in…” “A long time, I know.” Crazy sex has been out of the picture for a while. She glances at her boobs like she’s visualizing the event. “Lily,” I snap. “What’s wrong?” “I was just thinking…” She turns red all over. “…about your plans.”

I’m on my way. – Ryke I’m about to pocket my phone, but it vibrates again. Don’t drink. – Ryke

Fear of failing Lily—it motivates me in ways that no one can understand.

Halway Comics, Superheroes & Scones, his father breathing down his neck, alcohol…and me. It hurts to realize that I can’t take away his pain today and that in a small way, I may be contributing to it.

“You have so much going on,” I say softly. “I don’t want you to constantly worry about me too.” He frowns. “I’ll always worry about you,” he tells me. “It’s impossible not to.” “In a future,” I whisper, “I’d like to think that you just know wherever I am, I’m smiling…and content.” No agonizing. No stress over my wellbeing. “It’s just whether that future is ours or someone else’s.”

“But we’re in Earth-616, love. We’re going to have our happy ending. It just may take us awhile to get there.” My chest lifts at his rare optimism, stirring something powerful inside my heart. It fills me with so, so much hope.

“It wasn’t like she tugged at my heart in that moment.” Of course not. “I just knew I had the power to save her life, so I did.”

“Fuck me,” he curses. “Fornicating with the rats already?” Connor asks with a grin. “Fuck you, Cobalt.”

I’m pretty sure that Ryke can handle Connor’s digs. Even when Connor pisses him off, it seems like the comments never really eat at him. Ryke is the strongest person I’ve ever met. Stronger than me. It’s why Connor taunts Ryke and praises me.

“And she medicates her anxiety with sex, which means I’m not getting laid for the next week, and she only gets my fingers.” I find the nearest camera, hanging on a ceiling rafter, and I wave my fingers. And wink, just for further effect. Maybe it’ll distract Connor.

“Lo,” he says. I spin to him, my eyes flashing hot. “This conversation is over.” “I’m trying to imagine what Lily will look like pregnant.” His tone is conversational, not spiteful. “Would her entire body swell or just her belly?”

I’m selfish. But I don’t ever want to be that kind of selfish—to have a kid, knowing he or she could be plagued with this lifelong struggle.

“If this is your way of getting Daisy to room with you, you can forget it. I’m just barely tolerating your friendship.” “Are you fucking kidding me?” Ryke retorts. “There were rats in her bedroom, she’s living near mold, and your first assumption is that I want to fuck her?”

“You can’t censor a girl who’s nearly seventeen, especially not a high fashion model,” he says to me. “She’s heard and seen everything you have, if not more.” So it’s too late for her then. She’s all grown up.

I breathe heavily and both guys stare at me like I’m the crazy one. Because I’m the addict. Because I think irrationally. But I’m a person. I can feel. And there’s only so much I can put up with before I begin to drown.

Rose’s yellow-green eyes are practically radiating heat, and her body is shifted towards Connor. He stares at her like she invented the sun, a look I’ve seen a million times when they have their epic nerd battles. Connor leans over to whisper in her ear, and it sets her off, her cheeks concaving in anger. She shoves his arm and he grins.

Get inside the Calloway sisters this February. Dirty. That was dirty, and I don’t have to be a sex addict to know it.

22% Loren Hale 78% Ryke Meadows …no.

Dear Ms. Collins, I don’t know you personally, and you don’t know me personally, which is why I’m writing to you today. This is your fifth or so article about me and the supposed Ryke/Loren rumors floating around the media. These rumors are NOT TRUE. I would gladly appreciate you focusing on another topic. Hell, I wouldn’t even care if you still have to write about me (though, I would prefer you not). But just stop claiming that I’m sleeping with my boyfriend’s brother. Thank you, Lily Calloway

All the while, my pelvis “accidentally” grinds against the edge of the counter. It was an accident. I think. I don’t know anything anymore. I let out a strained breath and back away from the counter, taking the icing with me. After I open the lid, I dip a spoon into the container and let out a relaxed breath. The chair looms close to me and a sudden image bursts into my head. Me. Rubbing up against it. Just like the counter. Only maybe this would be better. I step closer, changing my mind just as my crotch brushes against the wood. I suddenly back away, my face burning. I whip around. There aren’t any cameramen but there are still cameras in the rafters. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

god my poor girl

The sad thing: I am a little dramatic and a lot sensitive.

Zero. Which is also how I rank to my parents.

There’s only one place I should go. To my bat cave! (my room).