Thrive (Addicted #4)

by Krista Ritchie

I thought there was no fucking way Connor Cobalt would hurt me. He was designed to be there for all of us. He made me feel worthy of love even if he never truly loved me. “Our whole friendship feels like a lie,” I tell her. “It’s not,” she says. “I’ve known him since I was fourteen, Loren. I’ve seen his superficial friendships and the ones he creates to further himself in life. You’re not one of those. He’s more himself with you than he usually is. You have to believe that.”

“He’s incredibly intelligent,” she says, “but that comes with a few quirks. This is one of those that I’m okay with. I don’t need him to love me because it’s not as though he’ll ever love another woman. Not if he doesn’t believe in it.”

Connor won’t apologize or say he’s wrong, not if he believes he’s right. But the fact that I frazzled him in some way—that means he cares about something other than just himself. It has to mean that our friendship is real.

“I’m not going to butter it for you.” I take a bite of my bagel and only glance back once. Yeah, I made the guy breakfast, a small, small sign of peace between us. I watch as his lips pull into one of those genuine smiles—one that holds no trace of arrogance. I add, “It doesn’t mean that I’m not still mad at you.” I won’t let him off the hook that easily, but I doubt this fight will last much longer. “I prefer my friends angry,” Connor says. “It makes me look better.” “Too soon,”

The words leave my lips before I can stop them, “Can I give you a blow job?” “No,” he deadpans. I raise my hands. “You’re right. You’re so right. Blow jobs are so ‘89.”

“And how about we wait in here for a while, see if we piss off Brett enough that he’ll ditch us for Ryke or Rose?” “I like that idea.” “Yeah?” I nod. “And maybe a virus will infect everyone, turning them into zombies, and when we leave the bathroom, the bookstore will be completely deserted.” “Nice,” he says, “but I’d rather not be inserted into the plot of 28 Days Later.” Damn. He’s good.

“I love you,” I suddenly say. I mean it. Because who else would stay in a bookstore bathroom with me, just to hide out for a little while.

And Connor can never be added into any equation without hurting my head.

The biggest event of the trip, in my opinion, was Rose losing her virginity.

“Since when do you want to talk about sex?” True. I’m usually tight-lipped and rosy red about the subject. “I’m trying to be better about it,” I admit, “and shockingly, it’s easier talking about someone else’s sex life.”

I never pegged Connor to be rough. I thought he was the sweet, gentle type. Like a friendly giant.

“How’s that ground, Calloway?” “Hard,” she banters with a mischievous smile. “It’ll probably leave a mark.” “That’s usually what happens when your ass meets something hard, sweetheart.”

Ryke shakes his head. “I sincerely thought your personality was the product of jerking off one too many times this past year.” He touches his chest. “For fuck’s sake, I’d be a dick if I didn’t get laid for twelve months. But obviously, being a prick is just programmed into you.” “You’re still not understanding,” Connor says casually, “being a prick is a choice. The same way you being rude to Julian is a choice. It’s not that hard to take responsibility for your actions.” Ryke groans. “Just fucking shut up.”

“In a public bowling alley, yes.” He begins to delete all of our names. “All the bowling I’ve done has been at someone’s house.”

“Why don’t we let Julian go first?” I say with a half-smile. Just saying his full name out loud makes me grimace. He shouldn’t be allowed to share it with my favorite X-Men: Julian Keller. It’s fucking sacrilege.

Ryke clears his throat like he’s trying to swallow an insult. “Excuse me,” he coughs into his hand. “I’m going to get something to drink. Dais, you can take my chair.” He rises, and Daisy walks towards his open seat. “Thanks,” she whispers. He nods stiffly, and she slumps down onto the chair. “Make it a double,” I call out to him.

“This is just confirmation of what we already know,” I say, “Rose is a witch. Witch fingers are supposedly very skinny.” Rose rakes me with a long yellow-green-eyed glare. “I hope you get athlete’s foot.” Lily’s eyes widen. “Don’t curse him, Rose.”

I groan from the impact of her bottom, and she gasps. “I didn’t hurt it, did I?” she whispers with fear flickering in her eyes. God, I love her. “My dick is fine,” I say and scoot her over just a little so that the bony part of her bottom isn’t digging into my cock. “How’s your ass?”

I motion for her with two fingers to come closer. Her lips immediately part, dead-locked on those fingers. Yes, Lily, I’m teasing you for later.

“I’m going to slide deep into your ass tonight, love.”

“Lo…” she whispers. “Maybe…” I wait for her to collect her thoughts. “Maybe…we should do it both ways tonight,” she says, watching my lips.

“You’re that wet?” I whisper, forcing myself not to harden at the thought. She nods quickly. “Yes.” She squirms. “Or do you think it’s too much to do both?”

“Bumpers are the best,” Daisy concurs. “You can throw the ball really hard and try to zig-zag it into the pins.” “Yeah,” Lily agrees. “Then you two go play on that lane.” Rose points to the empty one beside us. Lily springs to her feet. “Fine. We’ll be having more fun anyway.” Daisy hesitates for a second before rising, and then she nudges her douchebag boyfriend’s leg, who’s texting. “Do you want to come?” “What?” “Bumpers or no bumpers,” she briefly explains. “I’m not playing with the kid bumpers. They’re dumb.” “Hey, they’re grownup bumpers,” Lily says, “for grownups who don’t like gutter balls.” Julian looks at Lily like she’s a complete idiot.

I can’t help but give him a hard time. It’s like a busted function in my brain.

Daisy even covers Ryke’s eyes so he has to bowl blind. He’s actually grinning. My gaze shifts to Lily. She practices her bowling stance by the swivel chairs and every time she goes to mock throw, the weight of the ball causes her to careen unsteadily on her feet. Her brown hair hangs in her eyes and she brushes it away before trying again. I love her. The world seems empty whenever I watch her. It’s a peaceful existence. But I know a life with just the two of us, alone, is a future better as a fantasy. Friends. Family. They’re not easy to leave behind anymore.

“Hey!” Julian shouts. Shit. He storms over to my older brother. “I’m sick of you always hanging around my girlfriend, man.”

He takes a couple steps in a safe direction. “Daisy…” Julian says. “Play with me.” It sounds like an order. Ryke grips Daisy by the waist and flips her right-side-up, her body meshes with his, sliding down his chest slowly before her feet touch the ground. She breathes heavily, her lips parted. Ryke has a way with women. There’s no denying that. He fixes her shirt that rides up her stomach. “What do you want?” She swallows hard like she’s never been asked that before. And then she shrugs.

After the girls are gone, Julian says to Ryke, “You want to fuck her, that’s fine. Just stop getting in my way.” Ryke charges forward, “You motherfucking…” And then Connor steps between them. “We’re in public,” he announces. “Let’s go outside then,” Julian says. “He wants a fight⁠—” “You’re not fighting my brother, Julius. Leave it alone.” I grab Ryke by the arm. “We’re going.” I drag him towards the exit.

Between Scott and Julian, I’ve reached my limit on dealing with people I don’t like. That’s Connor’s game, not mine.

@DaniellaESP: #LilyCalloway’s vagina has to be huge.

“Lily, Lo!” Rose calls from the bottom of the stairs. We both turn our heads. Her expression flips between concern and pure rage. Any momentary smile just vanishes in an instant. “Can you come up here for a minute? We need to talk to you both.” We?

It’s not true, but I have no fucking evidence. Why would my word hold up? I’m the addict. I’m untrustworthy. Anything I do or say won’t matter because it could all be a lie.

Just leave me alone. Let me go. “No…” she says, eyes wide in horror at her scattered papers. My throat almost closes at how crazy she’s become. I stare dazedly as she breathes sharply, hyperventilating. Connor approaches quickly and bends down to her, whispering in her ear. Then he lifts her by the waist. She screams frantically, “No!” Rose kicks out to try to reach the papers. I’m going to throw up. Sickness rises from my stomach.

Cold washes over my body, guilt squeezing my lungs. Why can’t you just hit me? I deserve that.

Ryke sets his hand on my shoulder. I can’t look at him. “Hey, it’s all right.” It’s not. “Look at me.”

And then I make the mistake of finally looking to Lily, who’s on the edge of the bed. She is frozen in confusion, which is why she never intervened. She wears a haunted expression, like I betrayed her. I guess I did. I swallow hard.

“I just…I don’t understand why you wouldn’t get your pills to prove it,” she says in a small voice. “So you’re going to take their side over mine?” I choke. Stop being defensive. It’s one of the very few positive voices in my head. “I’m not taking sides.” She stares at her hands while she thinks hard. “I just want the truth, Lo.” “I didn’t drink.” I shake my head over and over, my eyes clouding. “But I can’t prove it. I stopped taking Antabuse months ago.” The truth doesn’t free me—doesn’t lift a weight off my chest. I am strapped with baggage so heavy that there’s no hope to reach the surface. “You did what?!” Ryke shouts. “They were driving me nuts!” I yell.

“We’re in a fight, just so you know,” she whispers. “I’ll sleep in Daisy’s bedroom.” Pain contorts my face. “You haven’t had sex in three days.” It’s the truth. She’s been cramming for an exam in May, and she falls asleep before we ever get that far. It’s been good, but she won’t be able to keep the routine up for long. It’s just not how her brain works. “I was going to…” I trail off as she shakes her head. “I don’t care about sex. I care about you being healthy and not drinking.”

Lo and I are in the bookstore—the day that people, in general, started to freak me out. I watch myself drag Lo into the bathroom and then shut the door closed on the camera. Anxious heat builds across my skin. In the video, I say, “Can I give you a blow job?” I can explain. My hand shoots in the air, about to gush forth all the excuses that are surprisingly truths. “I was having a bad day,” I start. “Shhh,” Lo says, frowning and really glaring at the camera. I’m sure that look is meant for Scott. And as we just watch the door in the video, sound effects start playing…of moaning and male groaning. They never showed how Lo rejected my request? Or how I took it back too? My frown deepens. “What is this?” Lo asks, his hand slipping in mine before I have a chance to bite my fingernails. “Is this some kind of fucked up joke?” “You tell us,” Ryke refutes. “You’re fucking in a public bathroom in the middle of the afternoon.”

I wish, so badly, they could just believe I’m doing okay. But only Lo truly sees my progress. He’s the one wrapped so closely with my sex addiction. The others just see glimpses here and there, and the bad times seem to stick out far more than the good.

“I thought you were in a fight,” Ryke says to us. “We are,” I say softly, not taking my eyes off his. No one is going to hurt us: I read in his gaze. No one is going to pull us apart.

If someone sinks us, it’ll be ourselves. That, I’m sure of.

“Surprisingly, the clothes that Lily wears have the most sales, but she also has the most air time, so that’s probably a factor,” Rose tells me.

“You hate me,” I say, “but you put up with me for Lily. It must be hard, right?” I’m no easier to be around than this guy. That’s the sad truth that tears at me. She reads between all the lines, her eyes flitting to the screen and then back to me. “You’re not Julian,” she says like I’m an idiot. “You don’t even come close.” “I made you cry,” I say, my voice hollow. In her bedroom. I pushed all of her buttons on purpose. “I forgive you,” she says easily. “How?” She’s not soft. She sits up straight with barriers hundreds of feet tall. “Because I know you’ll never forgive yourself,” she says. “Your guilt is punishment enough, don’t you think?”

“But you and Lily—you two love each other. It’s not that difficult to put my feelings aside when I can see how happy you make her.” Her honesty surprises me, and I know, in this moment, I have to reciprocate it. She deserves that at least. “Regardless…” I say. I’m sorry, Rose. The words stay trapped in the back of my throat. Still, she nods in understanding. “As long as you keep my sister safe, we’ll be even.”

She nods, and after a brief minute, she focuses back on the television. Our rare, honest moment ends just like that.

We’re waiting for Scott to apologize for all the mean things he’s said plus altering footage of us. It’s different than handing me porn and passing Lo a bottle of alcohol. He’s actively trying to turn our friends and family against us. That’s a new low.

“Maybe I can convince Connor to bring me a Pop-Tart.” “No chance,” Lo says, his chest lowering to the ground. “I texted him to bring me a Fizz, and he started lecturing me about anatomy and how bipedal mobility works. All in a damn text. If I wasn’t so irritated, I would have been impressed.”

Secretly, I just like looking at the gifs. Many people have created them from videos of Lo kissing and flirting with me. We’ve been called OTP (one true pairing) so many times that I literally have to stop myself from producing happy tears. I never thought we’d make it into a fandom. It’s not something I sought, and now that it’s happening it feels more surreal than anything. I have to admit, I love this side of pop culture much more than the paparazzi. Maybe because Lo and I have always been fans at heart.

“I’m looking at chaste gifs,” I blurt out. “The kind with you and me kissing.” “You can’t even watch us making out on TV without getting wet,” he reminds me and resumes his workout. “You shouldn’t be looking at gifs of it either.” “I’m getting better at it,” I admit truthfully. “Okay,” he says, “but what happens if you stumble onto gifs of naked men and cocks. You’ve abstained from porn for so long, Lil. You don’t want to ruin that by accident.”