Текст книги "Addicted for Now"

Автор книги: Becca Ritchie

Соавторы: Krista Ritchie
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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 31 страниц)

{ 24 }
LILY CALLOWAY

The door opens and I don’t move, don’t breathe, don’t speak. I want to disappear from this chair, this country, this planet.

Lo walks in front of my view of the balcony ledge, where I had literally considered testing my ability to fly. He’s shirtless, but not even the curve of his abs could entice me right now. He remains a few feet away from me, not closing the distance that draws tension like a black hole.

I finally look up to meet his gaze, my body numbing.

His eyes have become glassy, and he grips the railing behind him for support. On a normal occasion, before rehab and before recovery, he’d be sweeping me up into his arms. I’d wrap my legs around his waist and wish for sex to take away my humiliation, to remind myself that I’m good at something. I’m not worthless or alone. With every thrust and every climax, I’d be gone.

But now, the thought of doing that drives a hammer into my heart. I know with certainty that it’s wrong. I wonder if he’s keeping distance, afraid of that path that I might choose for us.

I don’t want it.

So I say, “I don’t want sex.” Tears gather in my eyes. “I just want you to hold me.”

They are magic words.

In one quick motion, he is in front of me and then I’m in his arms and on his lap. He blankets me with his body, wrapping his arms around my small frame. I bury my head into his chest, the tears pooling out as he rubs the back of my head. I feel safe here.

We sit like that for a good while, until his heart steadies and my breathing evens. What happened feels like a failure on my part. I screwed up and let my addiction win.

“I’m sorry,” I say softly, breaking the peaceful silence.

“You don’t need to apologize to me, Lil.”

“I feel like I let you down…let us down,” I admit. “We’re supposed to be getting better.”

“And there will be roadblocks and setbacks,” he tells me, “just because you hit one doesn’t mean you let me down. If anything, I’m proud of you for handling it like this.”

“Because the alternative is me attacking your body.”

He smiles. “Something like that, yeah.” He tucks an escaped piece of hair behind my ear. “What did your therapist say?”

Connor must have told him more than I thought. I’m glad. It saves me from reiterating the most embarrassing moment of my life.

“She said that I need to start coming up with ways to stop myself from fantasizing. Like focusing on homework or American presidents.”

“Basically what every teenage boy does to avoid a hard-on.”

I frown. I didn’t think about it like that. “I guess…” Then I shake my head. “But it doesn’t sound that simple. I understand how to stop myself from looking at porn and from self-love, but how do I stop myself from thinking. How does someone control that?”

“Practice,” Lo says. “I’m trying too. Believe me.”

I nod, knowing it can’t be much easier for him. At least thinking about booze doesn’t lead to an involuntary orgasm. I flush at the memory and groan into my hands.

“Maybe I’ll just remember the look on Connor and Rose’s face. I think that will keep me from fantasizing about anything for the next solid two-hundred years.”

He pulls me closer, rubbing my back soothingly, and then he kisses my lips in one quick second, testing it out.

We’re worse together when things are out of control, and during these moments we have to be careful. It’d be so easy to enable each other just to make us feel better again, but being a couple also means being intimate. Comforting someone normally involves touch—a hug, a kiss, a hand on a leg—things that send me off the deep end. We just have to find a balance.

“How was that?” he asks.

It felt simple and right. “Good.”

“I have a question, and I want you to know that I won’t be offended if the answer isn’t what I want it to be. I just…I’d like the truth.”

“Okay.”

He takes a small breath and then his eyes drop to my lips again. He plants another soft kiss, longer this time. I don’t move or force it into something else. I let him take the lead, and I don’t wish for anything more either. What he gives me is enough.

He draws back and looks from my body to my lips to my eyes, taking in every detail. “You okay?”

I nod again. “Just waiting for your question.”

“Right.” He takes another trained breath. “Your fantasies—who was in them?”

“Me,” I say. “And you.”

“You answered so quickly,” he says in worry.

“That doesn’t mean I lied. I haven’t fantasized about anyone but you since you left for rehab. You’re like…the best I’ve ever had.”

His face seems to glow at the last line, taking it as truth and fact. As it is. His hand glides to my neck, caressing me gently. For the first time, I feel in a different state of mind when he touches me. In part, it has to do with my talk with Dr. Banning. I asked her what I should expect when I see Lo, and she told me that he’d want to touch me, to comfort me. And that’s what I have to accept it as. Not all touching leads to pleasure.

A hug is just a hug, not the pathway to sex.

This type, it’s new to me because I’ve never allowed myself to be touched this way, at least not without the desire of it progressing to other things.

I think I like it.

His lips press against the tender skin below my ear, and I can feel the hesitation in his body when he pulls away. “How was that?”

“Good.”

“You don’t want anything more?”

“No,” I say sincerely, “not unless you do.”

He kisses my lips again, but this time parts them a little with his. I don’t deepen it. I wait, and he deepens it himself, his tongue gently slipping in. His thumb strokes the back of my neck. When he breaks the kiss, he slowly rubs my wet bottom lip with his finger. I don’t even shudder.

I’m letting him comfort me without having sex, without the fear of enabling me. We’re trying to be a better couple, and I think this is what progress feels like.

His eyes glimmer with possibilities. “Is this your new superpower, Lily Calloway?” he asks me sweetly. “I can touch you now without feeling guilty?”

“It may not last forever.”

“Then I’ll enjoy it for now.”

For now.

I like that too.

{ 25 }
LILY CALLOWAY

We remain on the patio to watch the sun set. The only time someone disturbs us is when Rose comes out to ask if we want anything from room service for dinner. I fear that they’re only eating-in because they’re nervous to leave us alone, but I don’t question her about it. Instead, I tell her to order us a couple burgers, and then she slips back inside.

Lo still has his arms wrapped around me as I sit on his lap. The sun fades into different shades of oranges and yellows. The opulence must spark my memory. “I forgot to ask how your run went,” I say.

“Oh…that.” His tone is dry and edged, not at all what I was expecting.

I swivel a little so I can see his face. He’s glaring at the sky. The pretty sky. This can’t be good. “What happened?”

He grimaces. “I feel like if I say it out loud it will come true. Can you try to inherit some telepathy in the next five minutes?”

“I can try to guess.”

“That doesn’t sound like a fun game either.”

I narrow my eyes at him and try to put the pieces together. He was on a run, a perfectly normal run, with Ryke, Melissa, and…oh shit.

“Daisy. What did she do?” My little sister has a habit of seeking danger. I know I land on the right answer because tiny stress-wrinkles crease his forehead. It takes him a quick minute to tell me about the bartering on the beach, but when he finishes, he doesn’t look relieved.

“There’s something else, isn’t there?”

“Yeah, and it’s the part that makes me want to jump off this balcony.” He stops before spoiling the news, which only makes me curious and nervous.

“Are you going to tell me?”

He lets out a long sigh and rubs his eyes in slight distress. “I don’t even know what to call it, Lil. There’s so many words for it, but none of them really describe the situation. Inappropriate and fucked up are my favorite ones though.”

I frown. “Are we still talking about Daisy?”

“And Ryke.”

His eyes flicker to mine, taking in my reaction as he lets this sink in.

“Wait, what?” It can’t be what I think. That was all in my mind, wasn’t it?

“Daisy had cash in her bikini top,” Lo says. “Ryke made some offhanded comment about it and it led to…other comments.” His jaw tightens at the memory and then his eyes land back on me. “Why the fuck are you smiling? I just told you that my half-brother was flirting with your little sister.”

I press my lips together, to try and hide it, but I soon surrender to the fact that I’m happy. “Do you know how long I’ve thought it was all in my head?”

This doesn’t amuse him. In fact, he straightens up like he’s ready to go assault his brother. “How long?”

I put my hand on his chest to calm him. “January…but I didn’t want to worry you if it wasn’t true.”

He lets out an angry breath.

“Do you know how many times Ryke has called me a pervert?” I continue. “I thought this was just another illusion from my dirty mind, like I was interpreting something out of nothing and making it all up.”

“You’re not. Now move past that achievement and bring yourself down to my level.” He turns his body a little more, so that we’re looking straight on at each other. “My twenty-two-year-old brother is flirting, apparently not deliberately—I’m not even sure how that fucking happens—with your sixteen-year-old sister.” He waits for it to sink in.

“Shit.”

“Yeah, shit. So what are we going to do? I’m worried that your sister is going to like him in a bad way. I mean, most girls are like babbling fools around Ryke. The fact that she’s not…I can’t even.” He runs a hand through his hair. “All I’m saying is that Ryke is smart enough not to make a move on her, but Daisy probably doesn’t know any better.”

 “I’ve already talked to her.” On numerous occasions, but she keeps saying the same thing to me. “She knows that she can’t do anything with him. And…” I snap my fingers at the realization. “Ryke brought Melissa here, so he is clearly putting off the right signals.” Showing up on vacation with a girl screams “taken” and should let Daisy know not to act on her feelings, if she does have any that extend beyond a friendship.

I kind of hope we’re blowing this all out of proportion and no chemistry really exists there. Because they have to know that nothing can ever happen.

Our mother would be more than just furious if she learned that Daisy even had a crush on Ryke Meadows. For one, his age. And two, he’s the spawn of Sara Hale. After the separation between Jonathan and Sara, my parents chose a side—Team Jonathan all the way. And with our mother’s incredibly high standards, I can see her wanting something more for Daisy. Something better.

Someone as affluent as Connor Cobalt or Loren Hale. Someone that has more to offer than a trust fund inherited out of a quiet divorce and hurt feelings.

Lo tilts my chin so that I meet his eyes and come back to the present, pulled straight from my thoughts. “Then Ryke needs to stop ditching Melissa for Daisy,” Lo tells me. “I’ll have another conversation with him…when I’m not picturing tearing his head off his shoulders.” His jaw locks at another thought. “He’s older. He has to be the one to take responsibility.”

“Can you blame him though?” The words tumble out of my mouth before I can catch them. I’m so not used to defending Ryke Meadows, but being in his company for three months maybe opened me up to his ways.

My eyes widen, and Lo looks equally shocked by the words. “Explain,” he says.

“Well, it’s just…” I stumble. “Daisy is a high fashion model. She’s always around older people, and she doesn’t look sixteen. She has a career. She makes money and travels the world. Sometimes she acts her age, sure, but most of the time she’s basically twenty.” There are moments where I even feel younger than her. I’m less worldly, less cultured, and less experienced (not sexually but for everything else, sure). “I can understand how that might be confusing for someone who’s attracted to her.”

Lo presses his hands to his face, more distressed than I’ve seen him in a long while, at least in moments that don’t involve craving booze. “That word, don’t say that word.”

“What?”

“Attracted.”

Oh. “I think my fear is that the more we keep telling them to stop, the more they’ll just do it to spite us.” And what if nothing’s there but friendship and we involuntarily push them together. “…like two rebellious teenagers or something.”

He groans. “She is a teenager.” He drops his hands and lets out another breath. “This is so fucked up.”

I smile at this and nudge his side. “Doesn’t it feel good to not be the only ones?”

He meets my gaze with a tilt of his head, and his lips try hard not to rise. “No, I like being alone on the fucked up island with you.” He nuzzles his nose into the crook of my neck. I laugh, a sound that I didn’t think possible an hour ago, and he responds with two light kisses on my collarbone.

“So what do we do?” he asks me, intertwining his fingers with mine. I appraise our hands for a moment, trying to come up with a plan.

“Maybe…maybe we just keep them separated for the rest of the vacation. Or try to.”

“But what about when we go home? What do we do about them then?”

“How many times are they really around each other?” Daisy has school, and modeling occupies most of her time. Without her knowing about my sex addiction, she’s invited to less and less outings with our group. Sometimes I imagine telling her, but I don’t think it will improve our relationship. And that’s what I’m trying to repair.

“Then we have a plan.”

He extends his palm like we’re closing a business deal. As I go in for the shake, he drops his hand and plants a surprise kiss on my lips. It takes me aback, but it sends little happy flutters in my stomach. The kiss lasts longer than the others as he cups the back of my head and gently opens my mouth with his. I feel the brush of his tongue and more flapping fills my belly.

He edges back after a moment and I curl up in his arms. One thing is certain.

Surprise kisses are the best.

{ 26 }
LOREN HALE

Four days of pool and beach have left me a little sunburned, tan, and tired. Lily and I have succeeded in separating Ryke and Daisy for the majority of the trip, at least enough where they haven’t had any opportunity to really talk.

Tonight we’re all eating at an authentic Mexican restaurant in the city. Chips and dip overflow the table, and the noise gathers by a stage, which sits close to the bar. I draw back at Daisy’s threat to make us all do karaoke later tonight. Not going to happen, even if the youngest Calloway girl can be highly persuasive. She seems to bat lashes, give us those big green puppy-dog eyes and everyone falls under her spell. The frightening part, I think she knows she has this power too.

If I was Greg Calloway, I’d have her ass on the next flight home. But I know her father: a workaholic who pours his time in business, who believes love equates to money and the luxury he can provide his family. I’ve watched Lily accept that kind of love and move on, as I’ve done in a sense. My father wasn’t always around. You don’t achieve this lifestyle without sacrificing something.

I ask Daisy what her mother thinks of her being in Cancun. Lily confirmed that she has permission, but I’d like to hear it from Daisy’s mouth.

She hasn’t touched a single chip. Her hands busy themselves with folding a paper napkin into a flower. The one downside to separating Daisy and Ryke, she seems less inclined to take bites of food without pressure from him. His persistence is useful sometimes. And I’ve tried to do the same “eat this” bit, but she gives me a look like I’m crazy for suggesting an avocado, and then she dodges me with word games that spin my head. Ryke can keep up. I can’t. My lingo is clearly meant for sex addicts, not adrenaline junkies.

“Well, you know…” Daisy starts and trails off as if I didn’t ask a question. She looks around and taps a waiter on the back. “Hey, can we get a margarita pitcher?”

He stares at her blankly, and with Ryke in the bathroom, Connor takes the lead and translates for her. Apparently, I’m the only guy who slept in Spanish class.

“Daisy,” I say. “You didn’t answer the question.”

We sit at a circular table, so it doesn’t take much strain for Daisy to turn back to me. “Oh, sorry, what was it?” she asks innocently.

“Samantha, your mother,” I say dryly, already knowing where this is headed. “She doesn’t mind you being out here all week?” Samantha’s ways have always eluded me. She digs her nails into Poppy’s daughter, Rose’s fashion line and Daisy’s modeling career but leaves Lily alone. It’s strange and something I couldn’t quite comprehend before rehab. Being around them, I’m starting to understand it even more.

Daisy is about to answer when Ryke and Melissa return from the restroom. No shame on their faces. Way less guilty than Lily and I ever were when we screwed during a meal. Melissa plops into her chair and grabs a napkin, wiping her lips.

Daisy sits between her sisters, and she basically stares straight at Melissa and Ryke across the circular table. I try to read her expression, but she stays guarded and nudges her rice with her fork.

Ryke motions to the suddenly silent table as he takes a seat beside me. “Don’t let us interrupt you,” he snaps. His eyes land on Daisy, who stares blankly at her rice, very interested in a pea that she unburies. It’s the first time Ryke has shown interest in Melissa with Daisy present. Usually Melissa just hangs all over him.

“Daisy,” I say, urging her again to answer the question. My arm slides around Lily’s shoulders beside me, and she surprisingly keeps her hands to herself. Normally she’d have me unzipped by now. Yes, even at a restaurant. Her restraint is admirable, but I can’t deny that a horrible (mostly horny) part of me wishes for it.

Daisy blinks a couple times. “Right. And no, my mom doesn’t mind. She was really happy that I could have a whole week to bond with my sisters. I just have to abide by my normal rules.” She shrugs at the last bit and claps her hands. “Should we start karaoke early?” She begins to rise from her chair, but both Lily and Rose put their hands on the frame to stop her. Rose pushes her back in.

“What are we talking about? What rules?” Melissa asks. She reaches into the basket of chips.

Lily cringes beside me, and I can see Rose’s icy demeanor turn even frostier at the topic.

Daisy eyes the chips longingly before putting on another smile. “It’s nothing.”

Ryke is slouched, leaning back on only two legs of his chair. He looks like an asshole. “You brought it up,” he reminds her. “So clearly you want to talk about it.”

Melissa rubs his thigh, smirking now that he took her side for a change. I should feel good about it too, but for some reason, I just feel really fucking awful.

“I did bring it up,” she nods to herself. And then she shrugs. “I guess the rules are simple. You know, no getting fat. No ruining your hair. No getting too tan. And no tattoos.” Her lips twitch. “So good news is—I’m free to contract an STD.”

“Jesus Christ,” Ryke says under his breath, only loud enough for me and Melissa to hear.

“That’s not funny,” Rose tells her, “and our mother may not kill you, but I would.”

“Only joking,” Daisy says, sporting a goofy face before she turns to Lily. “How’s school?”

Bringing Lily into any conversation usually deflects attention, and it’s like watching a little perceptive mastermind at work. Daisy’s good, and I wonder who else has caught onto her tricks. Which is why I look to Connor.

He watches quietly, observing everything like some analyst ready to type the social dynamic into a spreadsheet. He probably knows more than he lets on. I wonder if he’s predicted the outcome of everything, if our lives are neatly mapped out in his head with probabilities and statistics. Then again, he didn’t figure out that Lily was a sex addict.

Regardless, I think being inside Connor Cobalt’s head would be both terrifying and strange, and yet the most expensive amusement ride there is.

Lily begins to spout off some story about a professor with a bowtie and lisp, trying to avoid any topic about Stats and her exam grades.

“…so he was old.”

“That’s not a story,” Rose tells her pointedly.

“It is. Just not a good one.”

“How are you doing in classes, grade-wise?” Connor stirs up the topic. “Sebastian is still tutoring you.” He doesn’t ask it more as confirms what everyone already knows.

Lily’s eyes dart to a man carrying a huge bottle of liquor. “Tequila!” she exclaims.

He turns to the table.

“You don’t drink,” Ryke reminds her, almost growling, even though the alcohol was, obviously, a distraction. I don’t think she wants it, but I’m feeling a little defensive today.

I shoot him a look. “She can have some if she wants.” I don’t want her to think she has to be sober because of me. I wouldn’t ask her to do that.

“No,” she says, wide-eyed. The waiter comes over and she physically pushes him away.

I grab her arms. “Keep your hands to yourself,” I tell her easily, not wanting her to get in trouble.

“You’re on Antabuse, right?” Melissa asks me. “My step-mother took that for a while. She couldn’t even kiss my dad when he had a glass of wine. It made her so sick.” She motions to Lily. “Is that why you don’t drink?”

“What? No,” Lily says roughly, offended. “I never liked drinking, really. But if I did, I wouldn’t care if I couldn’t kiss him.” She cringes. “I mean, kissing doesn’t matter to me. In general. Not just with Lo. So…yeah. I could give up kissing.”

“I think she gets it,” I tell her with a smile. She turns bright red and takes my hand in hers. I lean over and whisper, “I’m glad I can kiss you.” I put another soft one on her temple. Ever since her involuntary climax in public, she’s been allowing me to touch her without desiring more. We’ve even slept in bed without a pillow wedged between my cock and her ass. She doesn’t grind on me or ask for more. It’s just sleep. In a way, something amazing came out of something terrible.

The waiter starts taking everyone’s orders, and when I place mine for the fish tacos, I just barely catch Daisy’s words.

“I think kissing is overrated.”

Oh no.

Ryke tenses beside me, and I hope he’s hearing my fucking voice raging in his head right now.

“How so?” Melissa takes the bait.

Rose chokes on a bite of rice. She clears her throat and puts a hand to her chest. “This isn’t appropriate dinner conversation.” Rose isn’t a complete prude. She swears and talks dirty like the rest of us. I’ve heard her curse out a three-hundred pound redneck for slapping a girl’s ass. Her language was vulgar and kind of hilarious. Rose just knows this is headed to a bad place.

Melissa rolls her eyes, not the biggest Rose-fan considering Ryke blamed her and Connor for shutting the room down for sex. “I, for one, would love a sixteen-year-old’s perspective,” Melissa says, turning right back to Daisy. “I want to know how the younger generation feels.”

“Totally,” Daisy says with a head bob. “So my theory about kissing—”

“There’s a theory?”

“Oh yeah. And my theory is that not kissing is sexier than actually kissing.” She holds up her hands. “Just go with me on this. Say you’re with a guy and you can tell he’s interested. There’s some heavy petting, some under the bra fondling.”

“We get it,” I snap.

“And then,” she continues without missing a beat, “he goes in for the kiss. You pull back, refuse him an intimate piece of you. Tension builds, and every other touch, flesh against flesh, feels illicit and intoxicating.”

“So you’re a tease,” Ryke says.

I’m about to curse him out, but Daisy cuts me off. “No, we end up having sex.”

Ryke doesn’t even flinch. “If I’m not fucking mistaken,” he says, “you mentioned sex being overrated as well.” When?! Rehab. I fucking hate rehab. I missed everything.

“That was until I took your advice.”

This is a train I cannot stop, and I selfishly want the information I lost more than trying to halt it. “What advice?” I ask, my voice edged.

Lily taps my leg repeatedly in fear. She knows, but I don’t want to wait until later to hear myself.

Daisy opens her mouth and Ryke interrupts, seeing my anger begin to boil. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

It’s bad. Whatever he said to Daisy involved sex, and my mind is already reeling. “No, I’d like to hear,” I say, motioning for Daisy to continue.

“Me too,” Melissa adds, shooting Ryke a side glare.

Lily buries her head in her hands. She’s the only one who knows what they said to each other. She was the only one who went to Acapulco besides Daisy’s friends.

Daisy hesitates now, and she tries to backpedal. “Just so you all know, my sexual experience before was less than stellar, and I had planned on warding off the male species entirely before Ryke talked to me.”

“That’s comforting,” Connor says flatly. He has a finger to his cheek in contemplation, but his gaze is directed on Ryke, not Daisy.

I turn to my half-brother. “Thank God for your advice, Ryke.” I wear a bitter smile and slap him on the back, hard.

He jerks forward and almost tips over his glass of water, but he grabs it before it spills.

“Honestly, his advice worked,” Daisy continues, trying to dig him out of a hole, but he’s buried too deep. “So really, you can’t fault him for saying it if it helped me in the end.”

“Seriously,” I say between clenched teeth, “if you don’t fucking tell me what he said, I’m going to flip the table.”

Ryke winces and gestures to Daisy. “Just say it.”

He gave her permission, but she’s still wary. Slowly and cautiously, she says, “You shouldn’t let any guy fuck you until he makes you come at least twice.”

The table practically silences with Rose giving Ryke an unparalleled death glare.

Ryke and Daisy are both in the wrong. I know this, but I’m putting all my frustration on Ryke. I don’t even know what to do or say, but if I look at him, I think I may lose my mind.

Melissa breaks the quiet. “What great instruction for a sixteen-year-old.” She crosses her arms over her chest.

Ryke lets out a breath. “What can I say? I give good advice.”

Melissa slaps him across the face, the sound like a gunshot, and most of the restaurant quiets.

Ryke sets his chair legs on the ground, his cheek red. That had to sting like hell.

“I need to talk to you,” Ryke says. At first I think he’s speaking to Melissa. “Lo.”

I shake my head, unable to meet his eyes.

Melissa lets out a low laugh. “Really?” She rises and throws down her napkin. “I’ll be back at the hotel, not that you’ll care.”

“Wait…” Ryke stands up but he glances at me and falters.

“I’ll talk to her,” Daisy says, rising from the table. Melissa hates Rose. She’s not that fond of Lily either, but I’m pretty sure it’s Daisy that she despises. And I can’t say a word. I sit in my chair, replaying Ryke’s advice to Daisy. I don’t care if it helped her or if it was good—there’s a line there that I think he knows he crossed. Like he told me before—he just doesn’t give a shit.

“You won’t be able to,” Ryke tells her. “Just let her go. I’ll talk to her when we go back to the hotel.”

Daisy shakes her head, not taking this as an answer. She sprints after Melissa.

“Fuck,” Ryke curses, running his hands through his hair. He turns to me. “Please, just give me a fucking minute, Lo.”

I’m about to curse him out when Lily says, “Go on.” She nudges my side, and I find myself rising off the seat and following Ryke into the bathroom.

When the door closes, he turns to me and opens his mouth. But for some reason, I have to be the prick who has the first word.

“You could have told me that story about your stupid advice on the beach when we were having a fucking heart to heart,” I fume.

“Clearly it wasn’t stupid if it helped her, and I didn’t think you’d take it well, obviously.”

“I am so close to punching you, and I can promise that it will hurt a hell of a lot more than Melissa’s bitch slap.”

He holds up his hands in peace, which doesn’t ease my temper.

“Let’s hear your apology,” I say.

He glares. “I wasn’t going to apologize.”

I make my move towards the door, fuck this shit, and he steps in front of me. “You can’t be that angry at me. Not over this,” he says coldly. “She’s not your little sister. You couldn’t even tell me ten facts about Daisy if you tried.”

“Fuck you,” I shoot back. “She’s Lily’s little sister. I remember her in diapers, so don’t try to defend yourself based on a goddamn family tree.”

Ryke has had enough, his fists clench and he looks ready to fight me. Instead, he actually uses his words.

“Don’t make me into the villain because you’re upset you lost out on a human fucking relationship with her,” Ryke almost screams, pointing towards the door. “Blame booze, blame our father, but don’t you ever fucking blame me.”

I stand my ground, seething. He’s right. I’m partly upset over all I’ve lost by drinking, and maybe I am being too hard on him. But I can’t stop what happens next.

“Do you want to fuck her?”

He doesn’t hesitate, and his tone softens, less defensive. “No. I don’t,” he says. “She’s the last person…ever. I promise, Lo.”

This is where I have to trust him.

“Can I explain at least?” Ryke asks. “There is a reason I said those things to her.”

I run my tongue over the bottom of my teeth and shake my head, a laugh caught in my throat. “Since when do you have to have a reason?”

“Usually, I fucking don’t,” he agrees. “But that time, I did. So can I talk now or am I going to get the third-degree?”

I motion for him to continue.

“It was Daisy’s sweet sixteen and we were on the boat. Her friends were discussing sex, and I was not a part of that conversation, believe me. They roped Lily into it, and she looked ready to fling herself off the yacht. I mean, she’s a fucking walking oxymoron: a sex addict who’s uncomfortable talking about sex.”

“She’s working on it.”

“That’s what I thought too, but she ran away from the girls. And when Daisy confronted her to talk about sex, she was flustered again. I was just trying to show her that it’s okay. That people can be comfortable about it. I knew I was going to cross a line, but I thought it was going to be fucking worth it. For Lily…and a little bit for Daisy too.” He pauses. “It just happened, Lo. I can’t take it back, and I honestly wouldn’t.”