I squirm a little, the tension a good kind of tension, the kind where I know I can wait to release it. Months ago, I don’t think I could have. But I’m learning restraint.
I flip through the channels while Lo holds me on his lap. I try to find a movie that won’t put me to sleep or a television show that won’t draw my attention back to Lo’s cock or my nefarious thoughts.
Lo rubs my shoulder, and his gaze drifts to his half-brother. “Are you losing?” Lo asks, a smile at the idea. I perk up a little with equal amusement.
Ryke stares at his cards with pinched brows. On the table is a pile of hundred dollar bills, what looks like his Rolex and her hemp bracelet.
“No,” he snaps.
Lo laughs under his breath. “Hey, bro, did you fail remedial math? That watch is worth five times more than that bracelet.”
“Can the peanut gallery please shut the fuck up?” Ryke says. “I’m trying to concentrate here.” He accidentally flashes his cards at Daisy.
She covers her eyes quickly. “I didn’t see anything.”
“Fuck,” he curses, shooting us another glare like we made the fumble. He goes back to concentrating really hard. Brain power must hurt Ryke as much as it does me.
Daisy puts her cards to her lips, trying not to smile too hard. She glances at us. “There’s a diamond in my bracelet, by the way.”
“Well then, I take it back,” Lo says. “Ryke is only half the idiot I thought he was.”
Ryke flips him off.
Daisy says, “You should fold.”
He stares at her for a long moment. “You’re bluffing.”
“I’m not. I saw your cards, remember?”
“You said you didn’t see a fucking thing.”
“I lied.” Oh she is good. I can’t tell if she’s bluffing.
“Fuck it.” Ryke slides off a gold ring from his middle finger and throws it in the pile. “That’s worth two grand.”
Daisy pales a little. She has to match that or fold and then he’ll take what’s in the pot.
“Let me see…hold on a sec.” She searches in her nearby bag.
And Ryke looks a little worried. He thought she was going to fold.
But her face falls. “I don’t have anything worth two thousand, but…” She snatches her journal and scribbles something on a piece of paper. She tosses that into the pile.
“Lo,” Connor calls from the back of the plane, still staring at his laptop. “Can you come here?”
“In a second,” Lo says, entertained, like me, on the poker game.
“Now would be best.” Connor’s voice pitches from its usual steady tone.
Lo sighs and slides out beneath me. “Catch me up when I come back?”
I nod, and he kisses me tenderly on the lips. As he retracts, he has that twinkle in his eye like more later.
Yes.
When he leaves, I prop myself on my knees to try and see the paper in the poker pile. “Read it out loud,” I tell Ryke.
“She’s tossing in her two Ducati Superbikes.” His eyebrow quirks. “I already have a motorcycle, Dais.”
“These are faster than your Honda.” Clearly they have talked “motorcycle” before if she knows what sits outside his apartment.
“Wait,” I interject. Ryke said her two superbikes. That means she already has them. “When did you get a motorcycle? And why would you buy two?”
“A client at a shoot bought them for set decoration, and he gave them to me.”
“He just gave them to you?”
Ryke fingers the piece of paper. “That’s what I said.”
“It was a thank you for doing a good job is all. It doesn’t happen often, but it did then. And now I have two motorcycles begging to be ridden. I’ve only taken the red one out on the road, so I put some miles on it.”
“You don’t have a motorcycle license yet,” he tells her flatly.
“Yeah, I know. But in order to get a license, I have to practice.”
He lets the paper go, and I see a sort of longing for those bikes in his gaze. They must be really nice. “You do realize that these are a lot more than my ring?”
“You don’t have to match me. I’m not trying to up the bid, but it’s really all I have that you could want.”
I glance at the rear of the plane. Lo’s back faces me, but he’s hunched over, his hand to his eyes. Something…something’s really wrong. What happened? Is it his father? I go to stand, but Connor meets my gaze and shakes his head, as though I should sit back down.
I do. He has some sort of power in his assuredness. It’s like Jedi mind control.
But I want to go comfort Lo. My chest hurts just watching the back of him. I bite my nails, catch myself and drop my hand.
“What the hell, let’s do it,” Ryke says.
I turn back to the poker game. Maybe it’ll keep my mind off something horrible. But I’m so antsy that I start scratching my arm. I catch myself doing that too.
“So the motorcycles are fair then?”
“Sure. Just don’t cry when I take them from you.”
She grins. “Okay. Let’s see your hand.”
He turns over two cards and compares them to the ones flipped on the table.
My attention is split between the game and Lo, and I don’t want to focus on him anymore. I’m about to go against Connor’s wishes and dart to the back of the plane. In order to stop myself, I switch the television channels to find a show that can preoccupy my mind.
“So you have two eights,” Daisy says, a smile to the words.
“You beat me, didn’t you?”
“Two jacks,” she says.
“You were dealt two fucking jacks?”
“You shuffled.”
He groans.
“You can have the ring back if you want.”
Boy Meets World? No. Sabrina the Teenage Witch? No. Soccer? Definitely not.
“No, you won it. It’s yours.”
“I’m going to feel weird if it’s a family heirloom or something.” She tries to shove the ring into his hand. He holds them up in the air.
“It’s from a jewelry store, and I was going to retire the thing anyway.”
“Why?”
“It’s ugly.”
“So, you gave me an ugly piece of jewelry.”
“It’s worth two thousand fucking dollars.”
She smiles wryly. “Oh yeah.”
Ryke crumples the paper with the Ducati arrangement on it. He lost those bikes, and there’s a bit of disappointment in his eyes from not being able to snatch one. I wonder if they’re rare.
“How about…” Daisy folds the cash and stuffs it in her wallet. “…I’ll let you keep the black Ducati if you teach me how to ride.”
Law & Order? No. X-Men cartoon? Possibly. I hover on this channel a little, watching Wolverine in his original yellow and blue spandex.
Ryke taps the pen to the table. “I’m not going to teach you how to kill yourself.”
“That’s dramatic.”
He glares. “Knowing you, you’d run the fucking bike off a damn cliff for the hell of it.”
She spreads her arms. “Then teach me how to stay on the road.”
He shakes his head. “No, if I show you how to ride, you’re going to do something stupid on the interstate.”
She touches her chest. “I would never.”
He throws a hundred dollar bill at her face. And it flutters into her lap before hitting her nose, not the effect he was looking for.
X-Men is not helping take my mind off Lo. I glance back at him again. Same hunched position. Same sadness. What is going on? I sigh and switch channels quickly.
“I’m not killing you,” Ryke repeats.
Her smile fades. “Ryke,” she says, “I’m going to figure out how to ride a motorcycle with or without you. I was just giving you the opportunity to have one of the bikes. I know you want it.”
He stares off, deep in thought, and then he shakes his head repeatedly, cringing. “Fuc
k.”
“What?”
He covers his face with his hand. “I can’t stop picturing you flipping the bike over.”
“I haven’t fallen off yet,” she reminds him.
“Have you tried to do a wheelie?”
She stays quiet. “No,” she mutters.
“Jesus Christ,” he says, not believing her one bit. “You’re going to kill yourself.”
“You keep saying that.”
“And is it not processing in your head or you just don’t give a fuck?”
She unfurls the crumpled piece of paper slowly. “I think…that I’ll be okay,” she sidesteps his question with more confidence than I could even possess. “But if you change your mind about the bike, here’s my number.” She writes down her cell on the paper.
I wonder if a premium channel is playing a Marvel film.
Before I click into special programming, I land on a newsfeed.
I see the word sex.
Huh.
It’s like a big flashing light in my eyes. I stay on the channel in curiosity. Maybe some senator had a sex scandal.
“Lily, wait!” Lo shouts.
My heart stops as my mind tailspins, trying to digest the program and Lo. Wait, wait, wait. Tears brim. Lo was upset.
And that’s not a senator.
He was upset because of this.
It’s me on the screen.
I shrink into a ball on the couch, my knees tucking to my chest. My hands are fixed on my mouth, my eyes too wide to shut.
I think…I think…I don’t know what I think.
The news stations are congregated outside Penn, and the bottom of the screen reads: Fizzle heiress has over fifty sexual partners and counting. Rumored sex addict.
Is this national news? How is this a national issue? What the hell is going on?
I don’t hear Lo call my name again. I turn up the television, and I’m shaking so badly that I have to hold the remote with both hands.
The news anchor is a petite blonde woman with bright red lipstick. “We just confirmed from a source that Lily Calloway, daughter of the founder of Fizzle, is a sex addict. As well as the fifty plus known men she’s slept with, she’s also been known to hire male prostitutes.”
My throat closes up, but I manage to barely breathe a word. One word. “Lo.”
He doesn’t come to me, and I can’t tear my eyes from the television.
“Lily, what’s going on?” Daisy asks, her voice tight.
Daisy, my parents—Oh my God, my father? His company…the guilt plows through me. They’re watching this. Everyone is watching this.
Melissa stirs from her corner, tugging her earbuds out and eyeing the screen. Oxygen refuses me. I shake my head again and again like this is a dream. I want to wake up. This can’t be real. But the words on the TV run through my head over and over and over. Sex addict. Sex addict. Sex addict.
This can’t be happening.
How much shame have I brought to my family?
“Lo,” I say a little louder, fixated on the TV as tears begin to scald my cheeks. “Lo!” I cry, terrified about what this means, as I process just how badly this is going to hurt everyone.
My phone buzzes beside me and the first text sends a knife in my gut.
Whore – Unknown.
It begins to explode in a rapid-fire wave of inflammatory messages. My eyes burn, and I choke on either a breath or a sob. “Lo!”
“I’m right here, Lil.” How long has he been on the couch? He turns me so that I face him, no longer absorbed by the newsfeed.
His hands touch my face, and he tries to wipe away the tears but I can’t stop crying. My chest constricts, and I sob into my palms. He draws me to his chest.
“You’re okay,” he says, rocking me a little, but there’s pain in his voice.
The plane feels too small. I don’t have enough air or space or lungs to battle this kind of affliction. I have ruined my family. It’s all I can think. It’s all I feel. I have spent years keeping my addiction a secret so that they wouldn’t bear the humiliation and disgrace. Their daughter is disgusting. I’m disgusting…
My mother…how will she look at me after this? How will Daisy?
“Lo, it hurts.” I try to take full breaths, but they’re sporadic and filled with so much desperation. I just want it to end. I want to fly the plane back and start over. We were headed home in triumph. We defeated Spring Break without giving into our vices.
Tonight was supposed to be about Lo and me together. And now…this…
I want to disintegrate, to flutter away and never wake up again.
“You’re okay,” Lo says, pulling me onto his lap. His arm swoops around my waist as he holds me tight to his chest. I can’t look anywhere but at my hands. They seem so empty all of a sudden. And then he grabs them and squeezes tight. “I have you.”
But I am falling so quickly.
I am drowning, Lo.
I don’t think I want to come up for air this time.
I’m not sure I can.
“We have a former captain of the Penn soccer team, Mason Nix, here to give a statement about Lily Calloway.”
This can’t be happening.
“Turn it off!” Lo yells.
But as Lo and Ryke struggle to find the remote that is lost in the depths of the cushions, I hear the past bleed into my ears.
“I slept with her when she was eighteen. My entire team did. She wasn’t just willing—she wanted it.” This is his payback. Was he the leak? We still don’t know. This one statement could just be revenge for being thrown over the hood of my car.
I can barely move. A single tear slides along Lo’s cheek. He wipes it quickly as he catches me watching. “Hey,” he whispers. “It’s okay, Lil.”
But my tears brim and burn. “You can’t be sad if it’s true,” I whisper back.
He stays strong and reaches out to touch my cheek. He kisses my lips, but I don’t feel the power in them that I usually do. My heart does not flutter. I am just sinking.
“And was she dating Loren Hale at the time, the heir of Hale Co.?” the news anchor asks.
“Lily, come on, love,” Lo pleads, kissing me stronger. “I’m right here.”
“Yeah,” Mason says. “She’s cheated on him this whole time.” The news anchor wears a look like what a poor bastard. I feel so sorry for him.
I turn my head from Lo, crying, my lips separating from his as I bury my head into my knees.
“Lily.” His voice breaks.
What have I done? I didn’t realize that my addiction would hurt him if it became public. He’s now the sad sap who was fucked over by the slut. By me. How do I make this right? There’s no way to change this. How do I erase years and years of mistakes?
I want to go back in time. I want to tell myself that I don’t need to sleep around to satisfy this emptiness in me. That the guy I love is right there in front of my eyes. That he can be more than a friend. That I don’t need anyone else in the whole universe but Loren Hale.
And if I had just done that, everything would have turned out right.
I would not be sitting here listening to my past mistakes. I would have spent four years with Lo like I’m doing right now. Committed. Fulfilled.
Happy.
My voice is stolen, and the words stay in the back of my throat. But I manage to say something.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, muffled into my knees and incoherent with my sobs. I’m so fucking sorry, Lo.
He rubs my back. “Lil, it’s okay.”
It’s not okay.
Someone finds the remote because the voices silence. My phone vibrates manically on the floor, and I cover my ears with my arms now, a ball that cannot be unfurled. The noise pierces me, each rumble is another slut or whore that I have yet to read.
I truly want to disappear. I want my superpowers to kick in, right now. I want to never, ever exist again. I want Lo to live in a world where I don’t hurt him. Please, someone, make that come true.
/>
Lo untangles me a little. He kisses my forehead and tries to let me cling back to him and not my bony legs. I slowly crawl onto his lap and press my cheek to his chest, listening to his unsteady heartbeat. I remain hidden, not vacating the safety of Lo’s shirt and avoiding the look of hurt and betrayal on Daisy’s face that I am sure exists tenfold.
I should have just told her on the beach.
And I don’t know what propels me to do it—maybe thinking that one simple thing, maybe feeling the regret—but I pop my head from my burrow. “Daisy?” I look around and find her standing by her chair.
She is crying.
And I’m not sure if it’s because I am or because she’s mad at me.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I meant to tell you.”
“It’s true?” she asks, wiping her face quickly like Lo had, not wanting me to see. It’s as though they can’t cry because I am. I hate that. It makes no sense, and it drives me to dam my waterworks sooner rather than later.
“I’m…” I can’t say it. Why can’t I just say it? My sister deserves more than me weeping and hiding away. I wipe my nose with the back of my arm and sit up straight. I slide from Lo’s lap, but he intertwines my fingers with his. It helps. It makes me not want to drown so much.
“It’s okay,” Daisy says what Lo has been repeating. She rubs all of her tears. “It’s fine, you don’t have to explain.” Daisy hates to see people upset. I forgot that about her. She just wants everyone to be happy.
But all the pain that it’s going to take to admit this to my sister—I need to feel it. Telling Rose was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but this is worse. Because I told Rose on my own accord, but in this instance, someone has played my hand, forcing me into it.
There is no compassion in telling her my secret. It’s just…necessary.
Very softly, I say, “I’m a sex addict.”
Her tears have dried up. And she nods. My strong, fearless sister. “And Mom…does she know?”
I shake my head once.
“Dad?”
“No.”
Daisy glances at Ryke. “You knew.”
“It’s complicated.”
Daisy nods again, trying to understand, I think. Her eyes go to Connor. “And you knew.”
“And Rose. That’s it,” Connor says.
Rose. My eyes flicker to the back cabin door where the bed lies. I wish she was here. She’s like a prickly iron chair that will weather any battle.
Addicted for Now (Addicted Series 2) Page 30