Addicted for Now (Addicted Series 2)

by Ritchie, Krista

  “Don’t start,” Rose warns her. “This isn’t going to end well, Mother.”

  “You’re right. It’s not going to end well for you. I have helped your father market Fizzle for twenty years. What you’re doing is going to ruin Calloway Couture.”

  “He’s just a model!” Rose shouts. “He’s not the face of the company.”

  I freeze.

  “He’s an alcoholic,” Samantha retorts. “And his face will be plastered in magazines and billboards next to your brand. Your company will suffer for it.”

  It suddenly feels hot in here. I tug at the collar to my shirt. Why is it so fucking hot?

  “And who sees Loren Hale and immediately thinks alcoholic? Your friends? Because I sure as hell don’t know anyone else in this fucking country who would give a shit.” Venom laces Rose’s words.

  “Don’t speak to me that way. I’m your mother, and it’s my job to give you advice.”

  “I hear it,” Rose says. “Your advice, while I know you mean well, is judgmental and cold. Loren will be a model in the campaign. He’ll be in photos, runway shows and commercials, so if you have a problem with that, then turn off the television, divert your eyes, but don’t scold me.”

  Samantha Calloway sighs. “Is there anything that can change your mind, Rose? You’re making a very big mistake.”

  “Nothing,” she says.

  “Well then, I’ll see you Sunday.” She pauses. “I’m sorry I yelled.”

  Rose sighs just as heavily. “Me too.” They both hang up, and when Rose spins around, she jumps back, her hand to her chest in surprise. “Lo, I…”

  “Don’t,” I say with a bitter smile that turns into a grimace. “Look, I didn’t know that my role in your company would impact you nega—”

  “It doesn’t,” she interjects. “She’s just overdramatic.”

  All these feelings scorch my insides, and if I don’t speak my mind now, I’m going to be driven down the street to a place I shouldn’t go. “Your mother is right,” I tell her, the words sinking low. “And I won’t screw with your career just because I need some cash. I’ll find another way.”

  “Don’t,” Rose tells me now. She holds a manicured finger directly at my face. “You’re staying.”

  “I’m not.” I can’t stay. I can’t fuck up another Calloway’s life with my problems. Lily is so much a part of me that there’s no disentangling from her now, but Rose—I’m not going to trap her inside my vice. I’m not going to lead her down this dark path that I walk on.

  I turn to leave, and Rose grabs my arm. “You need this job.”

  I jerk out of her grip. “I appreciate your help, I do, but you have to let me go.”

  “I can’t,” she says with such determination. “I promised you this job, and you’d still be here if it wasn’t for that phone call.”

  I shrug. “Yeah? Shit happens, Rose. One day, I was an only child, and the next, I have a brother and an empty bank account. I’ve learned to deal.” I’m about to cross through the door, but she slides in front of me, blocking my exit.

  “I won’t beg you to stay,” she tells me.

  “Good,” I snap. “Then we have an understanding.” I go to pass her, but she extends her arm, trapping me. “Rose.”

  “You haven’t even tried, Loren. You’re giving up.”

  Veins pulse in my neck, and I lean in low. “Rose,” I sneer, “for a girl that cannot stomach a crying baby, who wouldn’t be able to empathize with a child if she tugged on your goddamn sleeve, you really should stop trying to understand the human race.” My words cut deep. Rose has been incredibly open-minded since she learned about Lily’s addiction. She’s been there for her every single minute of the day, and I know she would drop her whole schedule if I asked her to.

  But I just need her to let me go—to realize that she’s lost this battle. For a girl who always wins, that’s a tough one to swallow.

  Rose purses her lips and then she relents by edging out of the doorway. “If you change your mind—”

  “I won’t.” I can’t even tell her thank you. I realize I am back to square one. Jobless and without a real plan.

  “I’ll write you a check for your time today.”

  I nod. “Just don’t overpay. I’ll be able to tell.” If anyone is going to accidentally hand out more money, it’s going to be Rose and Connor. But I don’t want to accept their charity. Not because I’m too prideful. I just want to prove to myself that I can do this on my own.

  Her eyes darken, so I know that’s exactly what she planned on doing. I pat her arched shoulder, and I head back into the main room. Lily’s forehead is almost pressed to the computer. I walk up to her, noticing that her nose touches the screen.

  I smile. God, I can’t believe I’m smiling after all that has happened. The fact that this girl can upturn my lips after such a bad day makes me never want to let her go. “Are you planning on eating your spreadsheet?” I ask her. “Or are you trying to disappear into cyberspace?”

  Her cheeks rose, and she leans back. “I was making sure my numbers were right.” Her eyes trail my body. “Shouldn’t you be in a collared shirt?”

  “Nah,” I say. “It’s not my style.” I reach out and hold her hand. “Come on, let’s go.”

  She frowns. “But, you’re not done with work yet.”

  “I quit,” I tell her.

  Her face twists in so many emotions. “Not…not for me, right? Lo, you can’t.” She points to the muffins. “Go back.”

  “Lil,” I say softly, bringing her to her feet, my hands at her waist. “I’ll explain everything in the car. But you have to trust me that none of this is because of you, okay? It’s my choice.”

  “Did Rose…?” She looks over my shoulder, ready to dart towards her sister and convince her that I should stay. But she has it backwards.

  “Rose wants me here. I don’t want to be.”

  Lily processes the words. “Okay…okay, so we’re going?”

  I nod.

  “You promise you’ll tell me why? And you won’t lie to me?”

  “No lying,” I assure her. We have to be honest. It’s the one thing we need to be good at.

  She leans over her keyboard, closes out Excel, and shuts down her computer.

  As Lily steps forward, she whips her head from side to side, paranoid that someone can see straight through her—that they can tell just how aroused she is. They can’t. But I sure as hell can.

  I swoop in behind her, my hands planted on her waist, and my lips brush her ear. “Want a ride?”

  She brightens almost immediately. I don’t wait for her to say yes. I crouch a little in front of her, and I lift her up on my back. She holds tight around my neck, and I keep my arms underneath her legs, willing to carry her as far as she needs to go—just like when we were kids.

  Some things never change.

  ***

  I finish telling Lily about the phone call between Rose and their mother about the same time that we reach the parking deck. Lil still clings to my back like a koala bear to a tree, and I wish I didn’t have to set her down. But I drop her onto her feet while I search my pockets for the keys to her car.

  “I’m glad you told me,” she says, no judgment in her eyes, just complete understanding. I’m about to kiss her, but I remember that she’s aroused, her eyes glazed for something more than just a peck on the cheek.

  She holds onto my belt loop with two fingers, silently tugging me towards her body. I don’t even think she realizes that she’s doing it.

  Right as I fish out the keys and unlock the doors, she lets out a sharp breath and scuttles behind my back.

  “Hide me,” she whispers, gripping the hem of my shirt and using my body as a shield.

  “What?” I frown and scan the dark parking deck.

  “Is that Lily Calloway?” a guy says, not even twenty feet from us. He just opened his Jeep door and climbed out, a couple spaces to the right of Lily’s vehicle. He walks towards us, and I spot a Penn soccer
sticker on his gas cap.

  The guy looks vaguely familiar. He has tan skin, more Spaniard than Italian, and his trim build matches soccer players. But I can’t place him. Not yet. He’s swimming in a fog.

  Lily reveals herself now that she’s been sighted. “Hi…”

  “Do you remember me?” he asks, his eyes briefly flickering to me and then back to Lil. I know, just by the way that he’s looking at her, that they had sex.

  If I was tense before, I’m wired now, my muscles tightening into taut strands. I’m used to being the one who knocks on Lily’s door in the morning and escorts her one-night stand out of our apartment. I’d even grab the poor guy a cup of coffee. But he’s not a face that I remember being charitable to. I don’t think he ever stepped foot in our old apartment.

  “Yeah,” Lily says, reaching for my hand. She holds it tightly, and I do her one better. I wrap my arm around her shoulders. She relaxes only a little, and the guy—well, he acts oblivious to my claim over her. Do I really need to wave a giant flag that says BOYFRIEND in his fucking face?

  He nods. “I was just thinking about you the other day.” His eyes rake her body. Is he serious? I’m standing right here. I glare so hard that my eyes start to burn.

  “Lo,” Lily says, “this is Mason Nix. Remember that frat party we went to our freshman year?” We went to a lot of parties when we were eighteen. I feel like I’ve shelved this memory so far back that it’s going to take an hour to find.

  “Right,” I say vaguely, still drilling holes into Mason. He meets my gaze but looks completely unaffected by my warning. What’s this guy’s deal?

  “Anyway, it’s funny that I’m running into you, Lily. I was going to call you yesterday—”

  “You have her number?” I question.

  “Yeah,” he says, his lips rising. “And I have yours. Loren Hale, right? She gave me your number too, said something about how she always loses track of her phone.”

  She must have been drunk. Lil doesn’t usually give out her number or mine. She said it “promotes stalking”—which clearly seems to be the case.

  My blood ices over, and my hand on Lily’s shoulder suddenly feels like a weight. So he has her number, and mine. He has the ability to text us, but he hardly seems vindictive towards me, definitely not enough to threaten Lily.

  He licks his lips and nods to her. “So, I was thinking you’d want to hookup later.” What? “Maybe tomorrow, around eight. Same frat house, same place. If you want to be fucked hard, I’m your guy.”

  Lily balks. “I…”

  “No,” I sneer. “She’s my girlfriend, you asshole.”

  Mason lets out a short laugh. “That’s funny.” He looks back at Lily, waiting for her response.

  Am I invisible? Am I not speaking clearly? I don’t fucking get it?! I step in front of Lily, letting go of her hand. “She’s my girlfriend. You’re never going to fuck her.”

  “I already did,” he retorts.

  My jaw locks, and I clench my fingers into a fist.

  “So what do you say, Lily? If I’m not enough for you, I can call up some of my buddies. I know you like that.”

  The memory hits me all at once—the one I tried to suppress. And I have the sudden urge to vomit until I pass out. I can’t even talk about it. I can’t mention what happened or else I think I may explode. I may beat him until he can’t stand on two legs. And it’s not his fault for what happened. Not really. It’s mine for not stopping Lily.

  For not holding her in my arms and telling her that I truly loved her. That I would be enough, and I’d quit drinking so she’d quit fucking other guys. That’s all I had to do. Choose her before alcohol. And I picked wrong for so many years.

  He tries to step towards her, and I put a hand on his chest, pushing him back. Things have changed. “She’s with me. She’s not going to fuck you. If you can’t understand that, then go read a damn book to understand the English language.”

  “And she was your girlfriend two years ago. That didn’t stop her before. In fact, you waved her towards me.”

  I want to strangle my past drunken neck. Our fake relationship is coming back to haunt me. “That was different. She’s not seeing anyone else but me now. So fuck off.”

  Mason lets out another laugh. “There’s no way that girl is only with you.” He knows. He knows she has a problem. And I wonder if he sent those texts. He was thinking about her recently, didn’t he say that?

  “Were you really thinking about Lily the other day, or were you just blowing smoke?”

  He smiles as though I’ve given him permission to pursue her. Over my dead fucking corpse. “I mentioned her to my friends a couple weeks ago. We were talking about the girls at Penn who give the best head. Everyone agreed she was the best cocksucker on campus.”

  And I can’t help it.

  I deck him. Right in the face.

  It didn’t feel good. My knuckles are on fire, and Mason touches his split lip, shocked.

  Lily comes up behind me and starts tugging my arm, trying to lead me to our car.

  I follow her, walking backwards so he doesn’t break my sharp gaze.

  And then he says, “I knew it.”

  I stop. My face falls because the look he wears—it’s full of detest, but it’s the kind of hate that’s been there for a while, accumulated throughout the years. He should be pissed about that punch to the jaw, not something so deep-seated.

  “You were the one who slashed our tires because we fucked your girlfriend.” We. I cringe, never ever wanting to hear that again. We. Not I. Not me. Multiple guys.

  And I may have popped a tire or two. I was drunk. I was eighteen. And I was pissed and resentful, more at myself than at anyone else. But I took it out on this guy. And I buried the memory.

  “Have you been texting me?” I glare.

  Mason grits his teeth.

  Lily tries to drag me off again, but I stay my course.

  “Have you?!” I shout. What I did—that was two years ago. But there are some things that no guy can let go. This is probably one of them.

  “Bye, Lily,” Mason says, his eyes only planted on me. “We’ll hookup soon, yeah? And maybe I won’t tell anyone else what a good little slut you are.”

  I shake off Lily, and I go crazy. I grab him by the face, pinching his cheeks together with one furious hand, and I shove his back over the hood of Lil’s car.

  He struggles to stand up from my hold, but I pin him down, my kneecap pressing into his dick.

  “You touch her, you even think about her, and I’ll have you in the ground before you can say thank you, Loren Hale. You go to the media, the press, and I will ruin you, starting with your soccer career. You don’t even know who I am, you motherfucker.”

  He spits in my face, and I throw him off the car and onto the cement.

  I think he’s about to come back and tackle me, but he staggers to his feet.

  I don’t give him the last word. Lily physically pushes me into the passenger seat, knowing that I’m too crazed to drive right now. And she rolls up the window while Mason begins yelling again. We can’t hear him in the car, but he smacks our hood with two fists as we pull out.

  And then we drive off, his middle finger in the rearview mirror.

  My hands shake, and my heart pumps a mile a minute.

  Lily says nothing. She stares faraway at the road, the silence blanketing the car. I need a drink. I need a goddamn drink right now. I run my hand through my hair, and then I glance back at her, checking her state of mind…and body.

  Her eyes glass, but her knees are locked together, and her leg bounces. Fuck. I forgot. We’re on our way home to have sex. I lean back, hitting the headrest with an exasperated sigh. Everything is just so far out of my control.

  When we’re stuck in traffic, bumper to bumper, Lily finally breaks the quiet. “You slashed their tires?”

  I rub my mouth. “I may have…” It was a long time ago. We just entered college. There were more guys for her to fuck. She was
gone almost every night, and I worried about whether or not she’d wake up crying. Whether I’d find her bruised and disposed of. It was horrible.

  She nods to herself, letting this sink in. “What if he wasn’t the guy texting us?” she asks. “You just made him angrier.”

  “Yeah…I see that.” I didn’t think running into her one-night stands would be this hard. I also didn’t think they’d ask to sleep with her while I was present. That sucked.

  Lily breathes heavily.

  “Hey,” I say, leaning towards her. I slide my hand on her leg. “It’s okay. We’re going to be fine.”

  She nods, trying to believe it as much as me. If I don’t find this guy soon, I’ll lose my mind. I think I’m about there.

  She turns on the radio, and we listen to music all the way home, our breath slowing together. Sometime later, we finally reach the house and pull into the garage. Lily snaps off her belt and turns to me.

  “I don’t need to have sex anymore. I’m okay now.” Her words sound practiced, like she’s been reciting them in her head for the past hour.

  “I don’t believe you,” I tell her.

  Her face pales. “No, really Lo, I’m fine.”

  My eyes fall to her legs, her thighs pressed tightly together. “So if we’re not having sex anymore, what are you going to go do?”

  She shrugs, her shoulders tense and locked. She’s so fucking aroused. Just admit it, Lily. “Maybe…take a shower.”

  “And masturbate?”

  Her eyes widen. “No-no,” she stammers. “No, just shower.”

  I lean forward and finger the button on her jeans.

  “What…what are you doing?” she asks. Her chest collapses with a heady breath, something that has my need building.

  “I’m checking.”

  “For what?” she asks in a small voice.

  I unzip her, and I watch her eyes plant on my hand as it descends down her pants and underneath her panties. She grabs my wrist as I slip my fingers inside of her. And she contracts around them, wet and eager and so ready.