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A week ago we learned that Ryke’s mom leaked my sex addiction to the press, the reason I am now on the front page of tabloids and discussed across social media.
WOAH. THIS IS FOLLOLWING THE ADDICTED FOR NOW TIMELINE. why did i think it would start from kiss the sky omg. it'll just go through that, probably until hothouse flower. THIS IS SO FAR THOUGH. THAT'S CRAZY. in hothouse flower's timeline, this was TWO YEARS AGO. but the chapters have years under it, so this may be different....
“Not that I ever thought about you as just a dick. I mean, I thought you were a dick, but the metaphorical kind. Not the kind I would ride.” Holy shit. I just need to shut up. “You have some serious fucking issues, Calloway,” Ryke snaps.
this is actually crazy. they made serious development because ryke does NOT talk to lily like this anymore.
Someone bangs on the window by my ear, and I jump so fast that I knock my water glass over. Ryke curses under his breath and mops up the spill with a napkin before I have the chance. A cameraman raps the glass with his fist again, and my eyes gullibly follow the noise. The flashes go off like busted light bulbs. And then the table of teenagers erupts in laughter, their gazes flitting to our booth and back away. My nerves spike, especially as more and more bells clink together, signaling a rush of people entering Lucky’s.
I let out a defeated sigh. “Hot dogs,” I confess. “I wanted a hot dog for lunch.” I wait for laughter and the seriously, Lily? but it never comes. He stares at me for a long moment, processing, and his brows begin to bunch together in this frustrated manner. “I’m sorry,” he says softly.
He skillfully unbuttons my jean shorts and adjusts me so they slide off both legs. His slow pace speeds my heart, fearful that it’ll end at any second. “Don’t stop,” I whisper, practically panting for oxygen. “I’m not going anywhere.” And then he leans closer to me, one hand braced underneath my leg so I don’t fall, the other gripping the porcelain sink behind me. He pulls my panties to the side. I didn’t notice him unzipping his pants—not until his erection slowly (so, so slowly) eases into me.
“No more rules. Fuck the list. You’re strong enough to handle sex when I’m aroused and maybe even in public too.” He wiped my silent tears that fell. “How do you know that I’m strong enough?” “Because you’re better now,” he said, almost convincing me.
My cheeks start to heat with anxiety. “You think they’ll ever find out?” I whisper. With tension still constricting his muscles, he draws me to his body and wraps his arm around my bony shoulder. “We’re good at keeping secrets,” he murmurs. “How is this one any different?”
the thing is, if you have to hide something, you know it's bad. SO.... (i WANT it to work out, but i just know it won't)
My biggest fear barrels into me. Losing her.
Ryke openly checks the girls out, and they nearly shriek, their eyes bulging. “You’d think that you just gave them a ride in your Maserati,” I say to my brother. “I don’t own a Maserati.” It was a figure of speech. He stands up and tosses his napkin on the chair. “Give me five minutes.” Connor pockets his phone. “That long?” “Fuck off,” Ryke says easily before leaving to approach the girls. I think the redhead on the end is going to faint. They practically bounce on their bar stools, and Ryke slides in, using whatever game he has to pick them up.
“Cobalt,” Ryke shouts. “They want to know your IQ.” “Higher than yours.”
Turns out Connor does have a type, and she happens to be strutting through the restaurant right now. I let out an audible groan when I hear her five-inch heels and see her piercing yellow-green eyes. But Rose has zoned in on one person. She raises her Chanel sunglasses to the top of her head, and then occupies Ryke’s seat next to Connor. He greets her with a few words in French, and she replies back in the same language. His arm slides around the back of her chair, his body leaned towards her in possession.
i NEED them so bad. AND I GET TO RELIVE ROSECONNOR CRUMBS. lily and lo shared a wall with them, so we'll 100% get themmm ;')
“Yeah,” I say, “a blow torch to defrost my girlfriend’s sister.” I smile dryly. “Thanks.” “And I’d like a fly swatter so I can smack my sister’s boyfriend.” The waitress opens her mouth, partially, but no words escape. “A margarita is all,” Connor tells her with a warm smile.
When she leaves, my phone buzzes on the table. I collect it and open the text. See you tomorrow. – Daisy I go entirely rigid. I flip the cell over and notice the dark green casing, unlike my black one. I accidentally picked up Ryke’s phone.
“I’m trying to trust you,” I retort. “Yeah? You’re not doing a good fucking job of it.” My insides twist. You’re not doing a good fucking job of it—the words blare in the back of my head. It hurts that he’d even think that. I lean closer to him, my heart pounding in my chest. “You came into my life in a lie,” I say. “You weren’t honest about who you were, and when you came clean, I still let you take me to rehab. I still hang out with you, knowing that you could be lying about so much more. That is more blind trust than I’ve ever given anyone in my life. So don’t tell me that I’m not doing a
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I stay quiet. This is my role in my loud family.
Suddenly, my back bumps into a hard chest. I freeze. This is a man-chest. For sure. “I lost something recently,” he tells me. My heart swells at the familiar voice, and I spin around to drop-dead-gorgeous cheekbones, a ruby-red visor, and lips that pull into a breathtaking smile. “Found her,” he says.
“You can’t just take my whip, Richard,” she says. “It’s part of my costume. You’re breaking the convention’s protocol.” “And you’re making up rules. Are the fictional costume police going to jail me in their invisible prison?” “Ugh! You are so…” She growls.
MY PARENTSSSS. (*i'm gonna ignore the fact that connor took her costume's WHIP.) BECAUSE WHY DOES HE NEED THAT.
Rose stands with her hands perched on her hips, her black leather pants and leather jacket just as badass as her Catwoman eye-mask and ears. Her hair is sleeked back into a pony. Even in her stiletto boots, Connor stands four inches above her, appearing to have an advantage. Batman and Catwoman are flirt-fighting. The fangirl inside of me is singing right now. “You love me,” Connor tells her, still holding her black whip, the source of their argument.
Ryke asks, “Are we going to keep watching them?” He stands right beside me. Lo and I nod at the same time, fixated on the couple who provide too much entertainment. No one on this planet are like these two. “Maybe you’re right,” I whisper to Lo. “Maybe they are extraterrestrials.” “It would explain a lot,” Lo agrees. “Like why Connor never stutters.” “Why Rose makes babies cry when she walks past them,” Lo adds. I nod. “And why Connor never has a bad hair day.” Lo laughs. “That’d be his hundred-dollar hair products.” “Oh.” I pause. “Maybe his shampoo comes from space.” Ryke shakes his head at
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They’re only an inch or so apart now. “What if he did that to me?” she asks seriously. He stares in her yellow-green piercing eyes for a long, long moment, reading her gaze. I still wish I had that superpower—or that smart person ability. Finally he says, “I would’ve stepped in.”
MMM. the tension before they had sex is unmatched for some reason. IT'S LIKE WAITING FOR A WIRE TO SNAP.
Rose’s eyes narrow even more. Then she stomps forward, almost challengingly, and pauses for dramatic effect. With so much confidence, she grabs the back of his head and licks his face slowly, starting from his chin all the way to his nose—like a cat. Connor stands poised, unmoving and unblinking. But his grin could shatter the world.
“On the bright side,” Connor says, “Emma Frost doesn’t have a weapon.” He unfurls the whip and snaps it in the air. “That could’ve been your ass.” “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I banter. He grins widely, looking less like Batman and way more like Connor Cobalt. “So much it hurts,” he replies.
Lily and I break our gazes at the same time, and the moment I see Rose, my jaw just fucking drops. I laugh. “Damn, Rose.” She sewed the strings back on the corset, but it’s much smaller on her chest, pushing up her breasts, and the silver spandex shorts might as well be underwear, riding up her ass.
Connor hasn’t said a word, but I read the expression on his face really well this time. His eyes graze every inch of her, full of lust, like he’s saving the image for later.