Addicted After All

by Krista Ritchie

  “Connor,” I add.

  He raises his wine glass to me.

  “And unfortunately Daisy.” I glare at her for streaking in our house. I caught a small glimpse, and it was enough to imprint an image that I’ve tried, desperately, to erase.

  She playfully winces. “Sorry.”

  Ryke shifts uncomfortably, but he doesn’t say a word about it. I highly doubt he’s that upset. But then I think about Ryke spotting Lily undressed, and it almost twists my face, gross sentiments invading me.

  There’s a lot there that I don’t like to imagine or talk about. Starting with who’s the baby daddy? rumors and ending with Ryke and Lily discussing sex. The in between—Lily being aroused by his make-out sessions with Daisy—is temporary and only fueled by her hormones. So I can live with it fine.

  It’s the other stuff that’s attempting to unravel me.

  “What about Rose?” Daisy suddenly asks me. “Didn’t you see her naked with the leeches…?”

  Rose’s mouth drops. “Loren—”

  “Holster your broomstick,” I tell her. “I didn’t even try to look at you. For one, no.” I cringe. “For another, I was focused on Lily.” I remember the road trip where the girls skinny dipped in a pond. We were all trying to remove the leeches, not catch a peek of each other’s girlfriends, wives, friend—whatever.

  Rose relaxes back into Connor.

  I nod to Daisy. “Truth or dare?” I’m betting she’ll pick dare.

  But she hesitates for a second, her cheek still on Ryke. Her eyes are glazed, which means she’s tipsy, maybe verging on drunk. I haven’t craved alcohol that severely tonight. It’s easier when there are more people staying sober than just me.

  Daisy raises her head and surprises me by saying, “Truth.”

  A question lights up in my mind. An asshole one. For Daisy, I would normally try to soften my spiteful, slightly vindictive nature. But it’s a knee-jerk reaction. And I let it out faster than I can rein it in—forgetting in a moment that she’s not Rose.

  “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.”

  “Fuck you,” Ryke curses.

  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.”

  “Daisy?” Lily says, reaching out to comfort her little sister, which instantly makes me feel like a dick. Well deserved, I know.

  “It’s cool,” she says softly and then winces, for real. “I mean, what happened wasn’t cool. It was…” She meets my gaze. “…almost as embarrassing as this.”

  Ryke pinches his eyes like he’s wishing he could go back in time.

  Yeah, now I feel like shit. My muscles constrict in taut bands. It’s like every time I open my mouth, I eventually feel this pain. It’s regret too shallow, always finding a way to surface. And still, I’d rather keep it there, right on the brink.

  This guilt is what differentiates me from my father. I know this.

  I watch Ryke lift Daisy onto his lap so she’s not slumping in humiliation. He wraps an arm protectively around her collarbones, above her chest, and keeps shooting Connor and me an I fucking hate you right now look. It’s weak in comparison to our dad. And Connor is hardly even perturbed, just casually drinking his wine.

  “Truth or dare?” Daisy suddenly asks Lily.

  Lily goes rigid. “Truth?” she says unsurely.

  I wait for the how many inches is Loren Hale? That’s the vindictive question I would’ve shot back in her position. Rose would’ve too. Anything to embarrass me. That question doesn’t upset me though—but it’s not something I would want to willingly advertise.

  Daisy plays too nice with me and asks Lily, “What’s your biggest pet peeve about Lo?”

  Lil tilts her chin up at me, and I stare down at her. “When you won’t let me hold the comic book because you think that I’ll crease the pages.”

  I almost laugh. “That’s your biggest issue with me, love?”

  She says, “It’s much more annoying than you realize.” She nods adamantly about this.

  I’m possessive over my comics—that hasn’t changed since forever. “I won’t even let anyone else but you borrow seventy-five percent of them.”

  “I appreciate that,” she says. “But some of them are mine.”

  “This is also true.” I realize I’m possessive over all comics then.

  Lily has another turn to ask a truth or dare, and she focuses on Ryke this time. Only she’s avoiding his eyes. Great. She’s still scared of him after being aroused by basically the entire male population. Fictional and real.

  “Truth or dare?” Lily asks, her voice quiet.

  “Dare,” Ryke says, even more pissed by her cagy attitude. “Can you look at me?”

  “No.”

  He groans. “Why do you keep acting like I have a disease, Lily?”

  I cut in, trying to make this easier for her, especially as she turns bright red again, “It’s not your turn to ask questions.”

  Ryke glowers. “I really don’t want to fucking talk to you right now.”

  Fine. I’m mostly to blame for his sour mood anyway. I nudge Lil, and she straightens up.

  “I dare you to…do a handstand for thirty seconds.”

  Sam finally drops his palm at this chaste dare. I wonder if there’s a possibility that fatherhood made him more conservative.

  My hand falls to Lily’s abdomen. Kick, I stupidly command to our son.

  Yeah, he does nothing, and I end up rubbing circles with my thumb on Lil’s stomach. She places her hand on top of mine. I exhale the restraint in my lungs.

  I can’t even fathom how much I may change after having a kid. I wonder whether it’ll be a better me or a worse one.

  To follow through with the dare, Daisy slides off my brother’s lap, and then Ryke rises to his feet. He easily places his palms on the ground and uses his upper-body strength to force his legs erect. Camera flashes from cellphones go off in waves.

  Lily isn’t even watching Ryke, but Daisy leans over the couch armrest and whispers to her boyfriend. She must say something funny because his dark expression brightens a fraction.

  When he finishes, easily landing back on his feet, he returns to the couch and holds Daisy again.

  “I hoped you would roll over,” Connor quips. “I didn’t even get to rub your belly.”

  Ryke is not amused. He doesn’t even flip him off this time. Shit.

  Connor acts like he’s not intimidated, but the look in my brother’s eye—one that says attack—is not usually directed at us. I recoil as he says to Connor, “Dare or fucking dare?”

  Connor finishes off his wine and sets the empty glass on the coffee table between the two couches. “I know in your own made-up language, adding a curse word changes the definition of the subsequent word, but to the rest of us, it’s all the same.”

  “Dare or fucking dare?” Ryke doesn’t back down.

  Connor takes his hand off Rose’s and he 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.”

  Jesus Christ. I’m going. I’m going. I set Lily on the cushion beside Daisy, and then I rise, facing him, a coffee table separating us.

  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.

  “Waitwaitwait,” Lily slurs, and alarm shoots into me. My attention diverts to Lil, her fingers still shielding her eyes. “How hot was it? I need to know this!” My shoulders drop in relief that she’s okay.

  “A solid eight,” Daisy declares, though she is staring only at Ryke right now. They’re giving fuck me eyes to each other. This is all wrong. “It’s masturbation worthy.”

  I grimace. “Stop.”

  “You’re stroking Connor’s ego,” Rose tells her sister.

  Lily is another color entirely—solid red. Stroking. I’m cringing more now than I was during the damn thing.

  “All of my sexual encounters are masturbation worthy,” Connor says. “This is nothing new.” He does, literally, have millions of people jacking off to his sex tapes with his wife.

  I slow clap and Ryke joins in.

  Connor smiles more.

  The funny thing—other people in the club start clapping too. I can feel my smile. Fans can be really cool, despite a few hecklers here and there.

  “An eight,” Lily repeats, astounded. “I can’t believe I missed it.”

  I reclaim my seat on the couch. “It wasn’t like that, Lil.”

  Poppy adds, “You’ll probably be able to Google it online.”

  “She’s not allowed to look at porn,” Rose says.

  “This wasn’t porn,” I announce to everyone.

  “So I can watch it?” Lily asks, her hands still shielding her face. She’s picturing it right now. Probably further than anything that actually transpired. “Was their tongue?” she whispers to me, confirming my suspicions.

  “No to both.” I pull Lil’s palm away from her eyes. And her gaze darts to my lips, as though imagining them against one of my best friend’s. It’s not a fantasy I want imbedded in her brain.

  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.

  { 19 }

  LILY CALLOWAY

  After the nightclub, we amble along the sidewalk, heading towards the dock so we can return to the yacht. “Spill,” Rose says to Daisy, who is being supported mostly by me and Poppy, our arms around our little sister’s waist.

  Rose wants details about the sexual escapade that the guys knew before us. I kinda want more info too. All things involving blow jobs interest me, maybe a little too much.

  Instead of answering, Daisy dodges Rose’s request and inhales like she’s breathing in tonight’s full moon and glittering stars. She raises her fists sloppily into the air and shouts, “HELLO, MEXICO!”

  The four guys, sauntering twenty feet ahead of us, all turn their heads in unison. Damn. That was sexy. I can admit that without flushing, right?

  I check my arms.

  Nope. Still red.

  Ryke is the only one who remains spun around. He rotates fully, walking backwards with an aluminum-foiled taco in hand. Most of the guys are eating them after we passed a food stand. I chose to go with dessert and eat a churro as a late-night snack.

  Daisy focuses on her boyfriend and almost trips over her feet.

  “Watch it, Calloway,” he tells her.

  “You watch it,” she says, her retort not as good with her drunken state. Poppy and I hold her firmly to our sides.<
br />
  “I am watching it,” Ryke says, his eyes right on hers, “and she looks like a hot fucking mess.”

  “What are you going to do about it?” Daisy says in a smooth voice. Her smile radiates, but her eyelids droop.

  Rose points an accusatory finger from Daisy to Ryke. “No flirting. We’re having girl time.”

  Ryke ignores her and says, “I’ll show you later, sweetheart.” And then he spins around, walking with the guys. Ryke places a hand on Lo’s shoulder, and they talk amongst themselves. 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.

  Poppy stares off into space before saying, “He has good lines.”

  Daisy’s brows furrow. “Ryke?”

  Poppy nods. “It was a cute one.” She smiles kindly at her.

  “It wasn’t a line,” Daisy refutes with a deep frown. I sway, slightly shocked that she actually spoke her mind. I like this Daisy more than the one keeping the peace. It’s easier to tell when she’s having a good time and when she’s just appearing to for our sake.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” Poppy says, giving her a side squeeze that unsteadies me. I gain my balance, thankfully. If I fall, so does my baby. It’s a thought that tickles my brain like a nervous spasm.

  With only one free hand, I bite into my street-side churro that melts in my mouth. The long fried donut is a little phallic looking, but I try to employ the Ryke Meadows attitude of “not caring what other people think.” An audible moan even leaves my lips. I don’t care.

  My cheeks and elbows do though, burning with disgrace.

  I chew slowly to prolong the next bite. Even though I crave it. I swallow way too soon.

  “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.”