Addicted After All (Addicted, #5)

by Krista Ritchie

“Soliciting again?” he banters with an arched brow. “How much for a blow job, darling?” “As much as you’re worth,” I reply, opening the passenger door. “How about you, Ryke?” Connor asks as my brother climbs into the backseat. “I’m not for fucking sale,” Ryke says roughly, slamming his door shut.

LMAO

The reality is this: Lily is pregnant. Rose is pregnant. Daisy is hanging onto her sanity. And the media is as caustic as ever—spreading rumors, trying to snap photos of Lily and Rose’s bodies, and harassing Daisy about her relationship with Ryke and his relationship with my girlfriend. I’m not the smartest one of us. Or the strongest. But I fucking know everyone has a breaking point. And sometimes I wonder if our limits are going to be tested now that Ryke is with Daisy, now that I’m about to be a father, and Connor will have a child with Rose. These things stretch us further than before. A misstep will feel fatal. Because it’s not just myself that I’m hurting. It’s Lil. It’s our kid. There’s literally no room for mistakes anymore. I wish I could be full of conceited optimism, but to be honest, everything just scares the shit out of me.

I’m like a tortoise, slow and steady. I’m not one-hundred percent able to talk about sex without flushing. I’m not sure if I ever will be that comfortable without feeling like someone’s going to hurl a dildo at my face. That happened two weeks ago outside of Lucky’s Diner. Not fun. And I thought being pregnant would give me some sort of reprieve like: don’t throw sex toys at me and my unborn baby. Not so.

Wtf

I would’ve liked either one she chose, but this one is a very good option. I’m getting Loren Hale tonight. My most favorite thing in the world.

He stares down into me and says, “I’ll keep her safe.” My eyes well with tears while my lips pull high. “Against the world, Loren Hale?” “Yeah,” he nods. “Against the world, Lily Calloway. I’m familiar with that battle.”

“Hey, bro,” I say, not adding anything more since Daisy’s here. It’s normal for the three of us to talk about the girls and sex, but not when they’re around. And I have a pretty good feeling they do the same to us. Ryke turns his head, and I give him a look like what the fuck happened? I thought he had a plan in motion. “She’s not Lily,” he suddenly tells me. My eyes narrow, my blood heating. “What is that supposed to mean?” “Yeah?” Daisy asks Ryke with a frown. Ryke lets out a frustrated groan. “Just drop it.” “No,” I snap. Now my mind is reeling. “You started it. You finish it.” “Words to live by,” Connor smiles. He’s completely at ease with no information about this argument, but maybe he has everything he needs by observing us. “All I fucking meant,” Ryke says, extending his arms, “is that Lily will do almost anything in bed.” The fact that he talks to Lily about sex often still unnerves me. “Daisy won’t, and I’m not going to force her to have sex when she doesn’t want it.” Daisy’s mouth has dropped, her face reddening in embarrassment. She glances quickly at Connor and blushes even more. “This is not happening,” she mutters. “It’s happening,” I tell her with a sardonic smile. “Don’t be a fucking dick,” Ryke snaps, trying to close the subject now.

Oh no

The parts of me that I love the most are the parts that belong to her.

She studies my expression for a long moment and says, “It’s a boy.” I am flooded with temperatures below zero, and I pass the paper to her, so she can verify what she already knows is real. Her eyes travel eagerly over the words and then she delicately folds the paper. “You can smile, Lil.” Please smile. A tear rolls down her cheek. No. I lean forward and cup her face in my hands. “Lily. I’m happy.” Somewhere. In all the good places that belong to her. There, I know I am. Her lips are chapped as she licks them, and she glances back at the paper to reaffirm that we’re really having a boy. I wipe her tears that fall. “Say something,” I breathe. Smile, Lil. “I’m…really, really happy.” Her voice trembles. And then she laughs into a smile, one that’s half-pained. For me. On the precipice of two polar opposite emotions. “It’s better this way, with a boy,” I whisper, her glassy eyes flitting between me and the paper. “You have to believe that I believe it.” All I want is to sense her joy and rid the tar that’s seeped from me to her. I ruin most things I touch, and she’s the best thing I have left.

Wooo

again. “Let me go, Richard,” she says, finally switching to English. “Rose,” he forces her name, his voice so cold that the hairs on my arms rise. “Connor,” she says just as icily. “Stop.” Her yellow-green eyes assault him. He releases her arms, and I notice the white envelope clenched in her fist. “We’re having a girl,” she states like it’s a fact. It’s definitely not one. And then she starts opening and closing kitchen drawers, searching for something. “Rose,” Connor says again, his tone more even and temperate. “It’s okay. Just stop and breathe for a second.” She’s tuning him out. “Rose.” I shake my head as I watch Rose slam the fourth drawer shut. “She’s lost it.” “Shut up, Loren!” Rose shouts.

flinch. I honestly didn’t think she was listening to me either. And then in the fifth drawer, she finds a packet of matches. “Rose!” Daisy and Lily scream in unison, but Connor is beside his wife before her sisters can swarm her. She’s already lit a match and holds it to the paper. The flame eats the document quickly, and Connor steals it out of her hand and tosses it in the sink. He holds her from behind, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, and as he murmurs in her ear, her rigid body starts to uncoil, like he’s expelling every volatile, toxic emotion and leaving her bare. My face is stuck in a permanent cringe again. Her breakdowns happen more often since her pregnancy.

and she says, “Maximoff Hale. He’s going to have the coolest parents alive.” She holds her fist out to Lily, who actually smiles brightly now. It falters only a little when she glances at me—to make sure it’s okay. I hate that she worries about upsetting me. For smiling. I nod to her and try to relax. Lily fist-bumps her sister. Then Daisy raises her fist to me with a sunny expression that makes my life seem better than it is. I look up at my brother who meets my eyes. I get it. Why he loves her. She’s a light in a dark place. Even when she’s going through deep shit too. Daisy and Ryke are the definition of selfless. In comparison, I’m the monster, the asshole, the villain. But in Lily Calloway’s eyes I’m the hero. That has to count for something.

The seatbelt has dug hard on my belly, and I feel more wetness between my legs. I solidify, wondering if it’s something worse than just pee. Ryke has to pull over into a nearby gas station with the Trailblazer, especially since the Audi is driving strange. “I think the wheels are fucking bent,” Ryke says. Daisy turns off the stereo and brushes some of the glass out of Ryke’s hair. I should do the same to Lo, but my eyes are just too wide, transfixed on one issue. I open my legs and peer down, but I can’t see much since my leggings are black. “Lil?” Lo says, worry edging his voice. I can’t move. Ryke tries to open his car door, but it’s jammed. Daisy climbs out of the Audi first, then Ryke crawls over the middle console and exits. I’m next. I can’t move. “Lily,” Lo forces my name and cups my face, turning it to him. “What’s wrong?” “I either peed or…” My eyes burn. Lo glances down at my lap. “You’re bleeding?” “I don’t know,” I say in one tight breath. He lifts up my sweater and tugs at the band of my leggings to peer down. After pulling at my panties, we both see a few droplets of blood. “Lo…” I say, tears welling. “It’s probably nothing…” But he already has his phone out, dialing a number. I’m guessing 911. He kisses my temple and then whispers, “Climb out. I’m right behind you.” I swallow a lump and step out of the car. Police sirens blare in the distance, and glass sprinkles the pavement. The Trailblazer isn’t as beat up as our smaller car, but the driver is still inspe...

Oh fuck

“He’s looking good,” Dr. Adams affirms. “Vitals of both mother and child, no internal bleeding, everything in check.” He quickly stands up, wiping the gel off her stomach with a towel. “I suggest consulting your Ob/Gyn within the week, just as routine, but it all should be fine. I have to do some paperwork, and I’ll have a nurse release you when you’re free to go.” He speaks so fast that he’s out the door, and the weight of this good news hits me harder. My life wasn’t rerouted again. Not this time. I sit on the edge of the hospital bed, and Lily immediately flings her arms around my shoulders, her forehead to my chest. I hug her closer, my heart pounding so hard that I wonder if she can feel it. I want him. Goddamn I want this kid more than I’ve wanted a lot of things in life. And I know it’s because he’s a part of us. I’d never want to destroy a piece of Lily. No matter if the road ahead will be rougher. Without her, it’d be unbearable. We’ve crossed a point where losing our son would hurt more than actually having him.

“What’s with the papers?” I gesture to the stack in Daisy’s hand. “Oh…” Daisy pauses for a second, and she glances between me and my brother. “Guess what?” She waves the papers theatrically in the air and outstretches her arms. “I’m pregnant.” Then she bows. The room is dead silent. My brother’s face falls. I go utterly still. “What?” Ryke says, his hands resting on his head. Lily’s jaw has dropped to the floor. And then Daisy straightens up with a playful smile. “Just kidding.” Ryke lets out a long breath that turns into a growl. “Fucking hell, Daisy. I’ve had about five heart attacks in the past fucking hour.” “It was a joke,” she says quietly. “You know, the ones where you laugh at the end.” “I’m not fucking laughing.” “Wrong crowd,” she says. “I must’ve missed the room with the boyfriend who would’ve laughed.” “Must be the boyfriend who doesn’t know you that well.”

Oh my lord

He grabs the papers out of her hand and flips through them. She used the “I’m pregnant” announcement to deflect whatever those papers are about. Ryke’s features turn grave, and I understand how serious it must be. “What is it?” Lily asks Daisy. She shrugs weakly. “They want to put me on some medication again.” Ryke folds the paper, which must be prescriptions that she’ll need to pick up, and he stuffs it in his back pocket. My phone buzzes, but so does everyone else’s. We all check the group text. Please, one of you, fucking call me. We’ll reschedule the meeting. I just want to know if my grandson’s alive. – Dad He’d probably be here if traffic wasn’t gridlocked from the wreck. I’m the first to text him back. Yeah. I hesitate on what else to add, my body binding with more emotion. I try to smother these feelings on instinct. I swallow and type: He’s okay.

With my other hand, I cup the spot between her legs, and she writhes beneath me, a breathless sound leaving her lips. My cock throbs a couple times. I’m about to put the apple between her lips, but the moment I lean forward, our window suddenly shatters. I flinch as a projectile thuds hard on the floorboards. What the hell? Lily goes rigid in fright, her fingers gripping my biceps. Climbing off her body, I instinctively position her behind me. “Lil, stay back.” My command is muffled through shouting outside, alarmed voices that echo into our bedroom. “Come on, go, go!” “Run. Run! He’s going to see us!”

Oh shit

My pulse is racing with blood-red heat as I start to piece together this incident. A prank. I grind my teeth. A stupid prank. I immediately stand off the bed, and Lily crawls to the edge. I give her a warning look. “Lily, stay back.” Too much glass litters the floor, and I don’t want her near it. My eyes fall to her abdomen. I have someone else to look out for too. This must trigger a maternal impulse in Lily. She remains still, not following me. With a pit in my stomach, I step around the sharp shards and pick up a brick, a note attached with a rubber band. I head to the window before I read it, my muscles in taut strands. Right outside, I spot about five teenagers in black hoodies, sprinting across our yard. Floodlights still illuminate the grass.

Only one of the guys turns to look back. And his eyes meet mine. Dead on. I feel how severely sharpened my face is—I sense the malice in my eyes. But it all bleeds away the moment I see the same exact expression in this teenager. The same guy that I grabbed in the street during the paintball prank. I shake my head at him. He inhales heavily. And then he sprints away, following his friends. My gaze falls to the cold brick. I snap off the rubber band and unfurl the white paper. “What does it say?” Lily asks. Roses are red. Violets are blue. Fuck your slut. We all know your brother will too. With white knuckles, I crumple the paper, my veins on fire. I suppress this irritation. I hate the three-way rumors, but what I hate more are the ones about our kid belonging to Ryke. “Lo?” she says. And what I can’t stomach—is Lily’s reaction to these things. It tears her down, and I want her to rise above it all. But it fucking hurts. I know it. So I’m going to do my best to shield her from this shit.

Wtfff

I’m not wandering around, but I eat chocolate chips out of the bag next to Rose, which I’d like to think helps in some way. I’m taste-testing the food. It’s edible. Just in case someone out there is wondering.

LOL

He is my soul. I am his. The moment we give up on each other is the moment that neither of us exists.

Lo climbs two more stairs before the front door bursts open and bangs against the wall. He cranes his neck over his shoulder, and every muscle in his arms and abdomen tenses against me. I peek from the crook of his bicep and make direct eye contact with a stern, severe man. Dark brown hair that’s grayed by the temples. A jaw as hard and intimidating as Ryke Meadows’ and a glower as deathly as Loren Hale’s. Jonathan Hale is the scariest parts of both his sons. “Meeting,” Jonathan Hale says roughly, his voice husky and foreboding. “Now.” My arousal still exists. I can’t just extinguish it because of Jonathan’s worst timing. So I recognize that I’m in serious trouble.

Oh no

Ryke would endure hell for eternity if it meant that I could go to heaven. Once upon a time, I think I would’ve let him. Not anymore. He deserves his paradise. So I’ll fight against my brother. I’ll fight against Lily and Daisy for this position. The winner is the loser. And this cage has my name on it.

Ryke stretches his arm over his shoulder and lowers his voice. “Daisy would freak out if I fucked her while she was half asleep,” he tells us. “She’d think I was someone who broke into the house…” He can’t finish the rest, but his face twists. She’d think he was raping her.

Daisy :(

He gives me oral almost every day, but I recognize the difference the moment something hard presses against my other entrance. Oh my God. Please, yes. My eyes burn with tears. “Lo,” I cry. Pleasepleaseplease let this be true and not in my mind. I constrict in excitement and impulse, and then I wince at the pressure. Oh God. His lips leave me, and I groan into the comforter. “Relax, love,” he reminds me. We’ve had anal sex enough that I should know not to tighten so much, but my body responded on its own. Lo massages my thigh again, stirring my arousal. My mind is a mixer right now, blended with lust and longings. Our doctor advised against anal sex while I’m pregnant, a restriction that’s left me more than bummed. Which is why I ask, “Are you using your fingers?” “No,” he says. And his eyes carry the answer. My eyes widen, my jaw unhinging. Sex toys. Oh my God. I tingle all over, imagining something long and hard inside of me, even though it’s most likely just a small plug. “Are we allowed?” I whisper. “I asked your Ob/Gyn. She said yes.” “Don’t move,” I blurt out. “Or I mean, move but…don’t take it out, okay?” Fear surfaces—fear of this ending too soon. “Shhh, Lil,” he says. “Breathe slowly.” I can feel my ribcage jutting out with these sporadic inhales. I lie back more and shut my eyes. He’s going to fill me both places, at the same time. It’s a craving that I’ve wanted satiated for a while.

A sheen of sweat coats his shoulders, chest and forehead, our breath ragged. He is grinning, his eyes full of knowing. Yes, Loren Hale. You are enough for me.

“We’re trying not to be disrespectful,” Daisy explains about her situation with Ryke. “It’s really fine if we stay in separate rooms.” It’s her birthday. She deserves the orgasm that I had last night. That and more. I wish I could trade with her, but it’s not looking possible.

LOL

Rose is focused on the guy below, resting her forearms on the railings, maybe in part to battle her seasickness. She shouts, “I hope you get a third degree burn and drown!” What? My brows crinkle, and that’s when the body stirs. Oh no. Oh no. He sits up, bare feet dropping on either side of the lounge chair, and then he leans forward, in plain sight. Connor Cobalt. I just got aroused from my sister’s husband. Someone I’ve never been attracted to like that. I’d like to say that pregnancy is awesome and beautiful, but this part is doing a number on me. I roast in embarrassment, unmoving, a statute on deck.

Oh my

I have to get out of here. I’ll submerge my whole body in an ice cold pool. Maybe it’ll rewire my brain. Plan concocted, I step forward to dart away, my concentration back on the deck. And then my chest instantly collides with Ryke. I flinch back. “Sorry!” I shout nervously, hands raised. I catch a glimpse of him, confusion knotting his eyebrows. “Why are you fucking red?” Oh my God. “It’s hot out,” Daisy covers for me. She knows very well that this is a different sort of hot. And yet, she’s on my side, sticking up for me—it’s kindness that I love and cherish with all my heart. But guilt sinks low because I’m flushed partly from her boyfriend. It’s all screwed up. I shield my face with a sweaty palm. “Yeah, it’s really hot. Imheadingtothepool,” I slur quickly, spinning on my heels to go to the stairs. “We’re right behind you,” Ryke tells me. And I suppress a shudder that borders fear (of myself) and something worse. “Not like that, Lil.” I hear the concern in his voice. “IknowIknow,” I mutter. I skip a couple steps on my way down to the main deck, and I round the corner towards the pool, tugging on the fabric of my one-piece that molds a very tiny baby bump. When the cool blue water comes into view, I ignore Lo on a lounge chair, and I’m prepared to just spring in. I channel my inner-dolphin. Here I go.

“Like Professor Xavier,” I smile at the image. But it fades quickly. “Do you think…do you think he’ll forget about us, if we’re just human and he’s something more?” Beads of water roll down my temple. Lo’s hand rises to my arm, and he rubs my skin soothingly. The embrace comforts me more than it arouses. “I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I guess we’ll see.” Yeah. I guess we will. I’ve drawn closer to Lo, I realize, my ankle hooked over his, but it’s not a sexual action. It’s just a natural one.

“Lily, did you…” Even though his chair is propped up, he sits even straighter. “You joined Twitter?” “Just for two seconds,” I say, raising my hands again. It was really hard finding a username since variations of “Lily Calloway” were already taken by fans. I ended up with @lilycallowayX23, and I sent a total of three very important tweets. “Right now?” he asks. “You joined Twitter five minutes ago, while we were all sitting here?” I squint. “Is this a rhetorical question?” Rose snatches his phone to confirm. “I don’t understand why you always use that OTP thing.” “Because it’s awesome,” I say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I had to let the Twitterverse know that I am one-hundred percent in support of Team Raisy.” Our publicists should’ve thought of this strategy months ago. I’m only helping. And these should clear up my stance on the matter. Tweet 1: This is the official Twitter account of Lily Calloway. Hooray! I had to announce myself. Tweet 2: #Raisy is my favorite OTP. I ship it. Tweet 3: Ryke & Daisy are cuter than cute right now. #Raisy is alive. I will make this trend. No more stupid “Raisy is dead” anymore.

LOL

“Greg is still hoping Ryke can be trained.” Lo kisses my cheek, a random kiss that surprises me. I cling to his side and rest my head on his chest, water droplets rolling down his skin. Connor goes quiet before he says, “Some people are better as they are.” My eyes grow in shock. Connor doesn’t want Ryke to change. Not that much at least. I don’t think any of us do, but there’s no question that he’s going to have to follow some of my father’s rules. If he doesn’t, I’m afraid it’ll put an irreparable strain on his relationship with Daisy. And they just have to last. Raisy is alive. I won’t believe in anything less.

Even on vacation, to a country I love, my dad never lets me forget reality. He emailed me profiles of every Hale Co. board member with their likes and dislikes. He’s trying to give me an advantage over Lily, Ryke and Daisy. I rarely attempt to change people’s perceptions of me, to kiss ass. I’m afraid the minute I step through the Hale Co. glass double doors, they’re going to say, what is this fucking kid doing here? He’s an alcoholic. He was expelled from college. He’s a loser. I’m a natural-born failure. But I don’t want my son to grow up and have these same impressions of me. I want to be known for more than all of that. I just don’t know how. Part of me believes it’s impossible. I can’t move mountains, no matter how hard I push.

I’d like to believe that I’m better now. But it’s easy to say that I am. It’s harder to prove it. I want to. God I want to. “I think…we’re both in agreement that neither of the girls should take over Hale Co.,” I say. Ryke nods adamantly. Lily is about to have a baby. Daisy should be outside or whatever she likes to do. They’re only trying to win this because they know that neither Ryke nor I want to live this life. They’re trying to protect us as much as we’re trying to protect them.

“Because you’re my brother,” I say without pause, “and I’d rather be with you than against you.” I can’t fight with Ryke. I need him on my side until the very end, until one of us is chosen. Maybe one day Connor and Ryke will pull away from me, and I’ll no longer lean on them for support. But it’s only been four months since I last drank alcohol, and their fears have become mine. Of relapsing. I need him. I need my brother.

I sit up and pull my shoulder back. “So how about it, Ryke Meadows, you want to be miserable with me?” This is difficult for him to accept. I see it in his eyes. By agreeing, he’s willfully subjecting me to a certain torture. He’d rather beat me. I’d rather beat him—but I’m not sure I can at the beginning: when I first walk through those glass double doors, when I meet the board’s judgment. Before I run on my own, I need a crutch. It’s either Ryke Meadows or a bottle of booze. And I can’t let it be the latter. So this is what I have to do. Please. Say yes. He rises to his feet, and I do the same, my heart thrashing in my chest. And then he grabs my hand and hugs me, setting a palm on my back. “Okay,” he says. “Let’s do this together, little brother.” My muscles finally loosen. For the first time that night.

“I’m nineteen,” Daisy retorts. “Nice try.” My smile overtakes my face. That was awesome. I raise my hand for a high-five, and Daisy smacks my palm. The shock passes through his features quickly. “That doesn’t mean much to me,” he says, “other than your pussy being tighter than your sisters.” All of our mouths simultaneously drop, except Rose who is about to punch him. But she can’t. Hands swoop around her waist from behind. Connor. And Ryke suddenly appears beside Daisy with a murderous glare, directed at the bartender. Oh shit. “Lily,” Lo says my name in my ear. My chest rises. They’re all back. Unharmed it seems. Even Sam, Poppy’s husband, his jaw unshaven like Ryke, and his features just as masculine as the rest of them. Ryke has a paper bag in his clenched fist. Cigars, I think. To the bartender, he growls, “I don’t even know what to fucking say to you.” “I do,” Lo sneers; then he motions between Ryke and Daisy. “They’re together, you dumb fuck. So swallow your tongue. And consider yourself lucky that only three out of eight people pray you choke on it.” I’m guessing that’s Ryke, Lo, and Rose. The hot-tempered triad. I smile again, even though this is not the time to be smiling like a dopey fool. I just never really saw the three of them as a team like that until now. “I say we cut if off,” Rose threatens. Connor, standing behind Rose, puts his hand to her forehead like he’s checking her temperature. She swats his arm away. He says, “I’m just seeing if rage can boil a ...

Nah wtf mr bartender

“My horns aren’t encrusted with diamonds,” Lo says. “So we’re not the same.” Rose’s lips slowly rise. Loren Hale made Rose Calloway smile. This is a first if there ever was one.

Oh my gosh

After a few minutes, the song dies down, and we ease to a slower sway. I want to hear his answer, even if it doesn’t make much sense now that we’re moving to the music. I grow the courage to ask anyway, “Will you dance with me?” For some reason, I still fear that rejection, the familiar response that always comes. He cups my round face, his fingers lost in my hair, and his lips curve. Very softly, he says, “Yes, love. I’ll dance with you.”

Cutiessss

“My favorite position is Connor’s least favorite position,” she says. “This isn’t called lie or dare, darling.” Connor fixes her hair over one shoulder, her neck bare. Rose purses her lips, her collarbones protruding from her black dress. “Fine…my favorite position is missionary.” She pauses briefly. “With a few alternations.” And just like that—Connor looks ready to fuck her across the couch. I can’t shut my mouth. Habit. “Meaning handcuffs, whips and yes sirs.” Rose lunges for me—what the hell. I instinctively flinch back while Connor seizes her around the waist—right before she catapults across the fucking table. She’s incredibly pregnant and acting like she’s a pole jumper in the Olympics. I give her a weird look. “Way to sacrifice your baby for payback.” It was such a low blow that I regret it the moment it leaves my lips. My heart clenches like it’s skipping five beats at once. Connor shoots me a single expression that says drop it. He’s holding the back of Rose’s head, and she says something fiercely to him in French.

Damn

Connor is too conceited. Rose is too high-strung. Daisy is too wild. Ryke is too aggressive. Lily is too awkward. I’m too hateful. Sam and Poppy are just right.

“When Connor walked in, and Ryke came on your face—how embarrassed were you?” All of Daisy’s sisters’ jaws unhinge. Daisy slumps down in the couch, her eyes wide in complete horror. I may have unleashed one of the few secrets still kept in the group. I hear Sam mutter to Poppy, “Where am I?” He’s shielding his eyes with his hand. He’s known Daisy practically forever. Connor is smiling into his wine glass, and Ryke looks like he wants to tear off my head—or maybe Connor’s. “You fucking told him?” Ryke growls at Connor. “Maybe a month ago,” Connor admits. “It was a good story. I felt guilty for keeping it to myself.”

Oh my

Rose smacks Connor’s chest. “You walked in on them?” “It was unintentional,” Connor says easily. “Though the timing was bad—or perfect, depending on the way you look at it.” “There’s no good fucking way to look at it,” Ryke retorts. “Had I not walked in right then, I don’t think you would’ve come on her face at all.” Ryke groans. “Just stop fucking talking.”

Connor takes his hand off Rose’s and rubs his lips, as though trying to hide his irritation. But I can’t tell for sure. “I pick the only choice you’re giving me.” And then Ryke says, without missing a beat, “Kiss Loren. For thirty fucking seconds.” Yeah. He got us both back in one strike. My stomach has caved. And my eyes flit up to Connor, who is studying me, mostly. I can’t read his expression, but he’s definitely not uncomfortable like most people would be. I’m confident in my sexuality enough to do the dare—I just worry about the cameras pointed at us and how this’ll affect his reputation more than my own. He has more to lose, being the CEO of Cobalt Inc. I notice that Sam has covered his eyes again, acting like this is not happening. It may not. “Can’t fucking do it?” Ryke challenges Connor, who I doubt has ever quit a game, even a “juvenile” one. Without removing his gaze from mine, Connor says, “I’m just weighing my options.” He’s not Rose. Ryke’s phrase would’ve egged her to do it, too prideful not to—but Connor is more logical about his actions. And then he rises. “Stand up,” he commands to me. “Are you sure—” “I can handle the backlash,” he says, and his eyes briefly flicker to Ryke. I get it. He values his friendship with Ryke this much—that he’s willing to risk criticism or a new headline in the tabloids just to even the playing fields again. “Stand up.”

Oh my lord

How does this even fucking work? He’s two inches taller than me, and I have no idea who is going to go for it first. I lick my lips nervously, and I wonder if this looks more sexual than anxious. I wipe my mouth with my hand and glance back at Lily. “Don’t look.” God fucking shit. I don’t need her to be aroused from this. She hides her eyes behind her fingers, and I turn back to Connor. Rose has said a few words in French that I can’t understand, but Connor never replies back. I have a feeling it’s because Ryke can understand him. And then Rose huffs and switches to English, “Loren, you look scared. Maybe you should sit down.” Her voice is nicer than usual. I eye Connor. I look scared because your husband is domineering as hell. She suddenly adds, “You’re an antelope and he’s a lion.” I picture a lion chasing an antelope. And killing it for food. My shoulders tense at that truth. “Yeah?” I say to her, looking past Connor at Rose. “Are you an antelope too?” She says, “I’m the same breed as him.” “Toujours,” Connor tells her. I understand the French word because he says it all the time. Always.

Right as I turn to Connor, his hand cups the back of my head. And his lips touch mine. My muscles solidify, and instead of just being awkwardly pressed together, he truly kisses me—with more confidence than I could ever possess. I shut my eyes while his lips close over mine, and I try to follow his lead to the best of my ability. But Connor controls the action—and I’m grateful for that. His hand falls to my neck, and I find myself gripping his bicep. My lungs thrashing for air as I cage all oxygen elsewhere. “Fifteen seconds,” I hear Poppy say. I’ve never kissed a guy before, which has to be really apparent. In the last three seconds, I feel Connor grinning against my lips. I swear he’s entertained by the weirdest things. “Time,” Poppy says. We break apart at the same moment. My lips actually slightly sting from the force. I wonder how many guys he’s kissed before. After that, I highly doubt I’m the first. There are just too many clues for me to believe otherwise. Connor rubs his bottom lip with his thumb, winks at me and then spins to Ryke. “We’re even.” Ryke nods, his brows raised in surprise. “Did anyone else think that was hot?” Daisy says with a loopy smile, past tipsy. “It was okay,” Rose says flatly, which prompts Connor to study her with intrigue. I expected her to charge at me or him—since she hates me and she loves him and we just kissed. But she doesn’t care. I can’t wrap my head around those two most of the time.

Oh my

Connor sits beside Rose, and he kisses her forehead. She seems at ease. Everyone does. How could that break the tension in our group? Strain that I accidentally built from a dare. And then Connor’s deep blue eyes meet mine, and he smiles at me, a genuine one that he only reserves for friends. He can slice through arguments, lower boiling points and keep our friendship intact, not even remotely awkward after we just kissed. And he’s a part of my life. Thank God. Or rather, thank him. Yeah, I smile, he’d want me to rephrase that.

Laughter emanates from their huddle, and Lo’s is the loudest, the most full-bellied and jam-packed with true happiness. My eyes sting with emotion. Loren Hale is laughing. It shouldn’t be a rare phrase. But it is. I am most happy when he is happy. The same, I know, applies to him.

“He came on your face,” Rose says bluntly. Back to this. I join in. “And you didn’t even tell us.” Poppy adds, “It’s obviously an embarrassing moment for her.” Rose adjusts her handbag on her arm. “And if she told me when it happened, I would’ve bought her jewelry and a ‘fuck you’ dress.” Daisy smiles. “What do those look like?” Rose waves a finger at her. “No, no, you’re not going to distract me. I need more details than Connor.” Daisy scrunches her nose. “That’s not possible. He was there.” My eyes bug at all of this. I’ve encountered some pretty awkward moments in my life, but nothing like this. “Did you like it?” I ask the least important question, probably. I’m just curious if that’s a fantasy she’d repeat again. “No,” Daisy says softly, actually starting to open up. Her arms like jelly, flopping by her sides. The liquor has just loosened her joints like a limp…thing. I cough on my churro. Rose pats my back with a stiff hand. “I told you not to eat that.” I smash the churro into her chest since the dessert is obviously not nice to me. Disgruntled, she tosses it on the sidewalk. Poppy gapes, “Rose, you shouldn’t litter.” Our oldest sister leaves our side to pick up the churro and find a trashcan.

Jeeez

Daisy tries to hide a bigger smile. “You know the dare?” She’s going to give us details?! Rose and I listen closely, very intrigued. “I was giving Ryke a blow job for the very first time, and that’s when Connor walked in.” She tucks her hair behind her ear, and the crowds that follow us (yes, people are trailing us, along with our bodyguards) grow in octave, so Daisy has to raise her voice. “I heard the door open, and I jerked back the same exact moment…” she trails off. “He ejaculated,” Rose finishes without balking. I wince. “Do you have to use that term?” “Yes,” Rose says with confidence. I wonder if I’m making Daisy feel more ashamed by being all ashamed myself. It’s a nasty cycle that I want to break. “Lo has come on me before,” I state. Wow it kinda felt good. Daisy smiles. “Really?” “Yeah, my face too. But not that much anymore.” I frown deeply, thinking about our current stasis of being. I feel healthier, and I like that Lo has spaced out all these steps with sex over months and months. It’s better to go slow. Fast is not the right speed for me. Daisy looks a little lost in her head.

“What is it?” I ask. She takes a deep breath. “Do you ever just want to run? Like strip all of your clothes and speed down a street, using all of your strength, no one stopping you but yourself?” It sounds freeing, but I can’t say it’s a thought that’s ever crossed my mind. After two minutes of pathetically running, I’d face-plant or grow out of breath—baby or no baby. “No,” Rose says definitively. “I don’t run. I walk quickly.” This has been her motto since she discovered high heels. To Daisy, I say, “In theory it seems kind of nice.” She springs on her feet like she’s ready to take off. “All theories should be tested, at least once.”

LOL