Текст книги "Addicted for Now"
Автор книги: Becca Ritchie
Соавторы: Krista Ritchie
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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 31 страниц)
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LOREN HALE
After spending lunch with my brother, I end up in Rose Calloway’s Escalade. She conveniently showed up at the café. They acted all surprised about it—like she just happened to spot us, driving past Rocco’s Deli on her way home.
But I figured out quickly that Ryke called her to cart me to our house while he went back to Philly for college. Like I have to be equipped with a twenty-four-seven babysitter, like I can’t be trusted in a cab or for a brief stroll down the sidewalk alone. I am the equivalent of a ninety-year-old lady needing a person as a crutch to cross the street.
It’s ridiculous. And even if I do want to talk to Rose about my plan to earn some cash—I would never volunteer to be alone with the girl. She hates me. And Lily may not see it like that, but Rose and I have an understanding that we’re never going to be best friends. We withstand each other for Lily, and that has to be enough. Growing up, Lily would choose me—a boy—over Rose, her sister, and that type of jealousy accumulates over the years into something deep and raw. No apology will matter.
And I get it. I would be resentful too. I’ve never wanted Rose to cut me slack, which must be why I poke the coals, stirring the flames and provoking her temper. I deserve every cold look, every biting comment. I deserve that fucking pain.
I get it.
“You look loads of fun today, Rose,” I say as she clenches the steering wheel, spine straight and eyes focused on the street. I should be a good person and ask what’s bothering her, but I can’t form the words. Caring—that’s Ryke’s thing.
“Look in the mirror,” she says icily.
I do. Just to humor her. And what stares back at me is a scowl that could shatter the reflection. Sharpened jaw and dark circles beneath my amber eyes, showing everyone how fucking tired I actually am.
There’s no sleep for the wicked.
“I grow more beautiful with age,” I deadpan. “Must be the alcohol.”
“That’s not even a little amusing.”
“Maybe because you lost your funny bone in your Gucci handbag.”
She glares and then drives up to our gate.
My phone buzzes, and I check the text with a palm over the screen so Rose doesn’t catch a glimpse.
Your girlfriend is a whore. – Unknown
I clench my teeth, my insides broiling. I want to find this bastard more than anything, but I’m running out of options. I can’t knock on the door of every enemy that I remember. There are too many. And I’ve already poked one burning coal that may have been simmering down. Since I threatened him, Aaron Wells could be reinvigorated to come after me even more—or he could be ready to bury his head in a hole. That’s the chance I took by visiting his house and assuming he was the texter. (He still could be for all I know.)
But I’m not sure it’s wise to do the same thing to guys who haven’t spoken to me in years.
Tracking the texts—that’s the best shot I have, but I hate that it’s out of my hands. I wonder how long it’ll be before I become completely unhinged.
I’m about to slip the phone back in my pocket, but another text chimes.
How many guys have fucked your girlfriend? Do you think the news will tell us the number? – Unknown
“Everything okay?” Rose asks as the car slows down by the gate.
“Yeah,” I lie, typing quickly.
What do you want? I text back.
If it’s money, I’ll find a way to pay him off. I can ask my father for a loan. I’ll double the amount that the tabloids are offering him. I just don’t want Lily’s secret to reach her family’s ears. Once her parents learn that she’s a sex addict—I’m not sure Lily will be able to handle that shame. I don’t think she’s ready for it.
Satisfaction – Unknown.
What the fuck does that mean? Of what? I text.
My leg jostles as I wait for the reply. I realize that Rose has put her Escalade in park, waiting by the gate’s keypad. She rolls down the window but watches me closely before she types in the code.
“Don’t,” I snap at her. I really don’t want to hear her ideas or thoughts on the matter. She probably has tons of opinions about how I should be responding to this guy, and I’m positive that she would handle this differently.
“You shouldn’t provoke him.”
“I wouldn’t.” Yeah, I kind of would. That’s what I do, even unintentionally.
Her lips purse. “Please. I know you.”
My phone vibrates on my leg.
I want the satisfaction of hurting you the way you’ve hurt me. – Unknown
The bottom of my stomach drops. This isn’t about money. This is payback for whatever I did. I’m not a saint, and I wouldn’t begin to defend myself. I just never wanted to believe that Lily would be the one destroyed because of me. So I text, Don’t go after her. You can do whatever the hell you want to me. Just leave her out of this. And I hesitate before I press send.
I’m sniveling. I’m giving this guy exactly what he needs. Ammunition to use against me. My father would never show him weakness like this. And what is the guy going to say in reply? Oh, I’m so sorry, Lo. I didn’t know she meant so much to you. No, he’s going to tell me to eat shit and watch my girlfriend burn.
This is not the way to win a fight.
So I delete that text and rewrite: I’ll find you, you motherfucker. Don’t ever doubt that. Send.
I pocket my phone and meet Rose’s moody gaze.
“What?” I say.
“You did exactly what I told you not to do, didn’t you?”
“Yep.”
She mutters under her breath, shaking her head. And as she leans out of the window to type in the key code, her eyes fall to something down below. I’m glad for the distraction. The phone feels less heavy in my jeans. I begin to shelve the texts in the back of my mind. On a normal day, I’d just go grab a bottle of Macallan and call it a night.
“Drop a bracelet?” I ask.
Her lips tighten.
“Worse than a bracelet? Damn, we’re at a DEFCON 1 then. Better prepare for nuclear war.”
She actually looks impressed. “You know what DEFCON means?”
“Yeah. I also know how to spell ‘duh’ and ‘hurry the fuck up.’” I don’t add that X-Men uses a version of the term for an imminent mutant crisis. How I learned the facts shouldn’t matter anyway.
She shoots me the signature Rose Calloway glare—the one that looks like she’s two seconds from eating your soul. I glower back, but internally, I want to run the fuck away. I don’t know how Connor smiles when she looks at him like that. She’s not bluffing. I bet she eats the hearts of every womanizer for the hell of it.
She flings her door open. “Wait here.”
Yeah, where else am I going to go?
She rummages out of sight for a minute, and curiosity gets the better of me. I unbuckle and stretch over the driver’s seat, peering down through the window.
Rose squats on the ground next to purple hydrangeas, ivy spindling up the iron gate beside the robust flowers. White petals flutter by her side, but her back blocks whatever’s in front of her.
“What are you doing?” I ask like she’s gone insane. I think there may be a screw loose in all of the Calloway girls. Well, maybe except Daisy. She seems pretty normal.
“He can’t just send me things and expect to be forgiven,” she says in a huff. “It doesn’t work like that.” She grunts a little, and more petals burst.
And then she stands and turns. She clutches the stems to what was a bouquet of white roses, but they look pathetic in her tight fist. Every petal has been ripped apart and fallen to the grass below.
“You just mauled a plant,” I say flatly. There’s something disturbing about this, and yet, I can’t help but laugh.
She glares harder. “Hold this.” She shoves a glass vase through the window.
“You’re not going to shatter it?” I ask. “All in the name of love? For your broken heart?”
“My heart isn’t broken.”
“I forgot, you’re made of steel. The bionic, unfeeling woman. Connor must love cuddling with your nuts and bolts.” I slip back to my seat.
She slams the car door, not even wasting another glare on me. She has yet to go for the worst look—the “I’m going to castrate you” one. I think she must be saving it for Connor. I am so glad I’m not him.
“What’d he do?” I ask. “Misspell your favorite word? Beat you in a game of Scrabble?”
She doesn’t say anything. She just retypes the code and puts the car in gear as the gate groans open. When the car rolls along the driveway towards the colonial house, it hits me.
“You can’t be serious,” I say. “You’re still angry at him because he gave me some beer months ago, when I wasn’t even planning on being sober?” I don’t want to ruin anyone else’s relationship. It’s why Lily and I closed off to people—so no one else had to get hurt because of our mistakes.
She pulls into the garage and turns off the ignition. “You wouldn’t understand.” She’s about to climb out of the car, but I lean over her and flick the lock, trapping her in the confines of the Escalade.
Connor told me not to defend him. Right after they had that fight in our living room, he took me aside and said to stay out of it. But I can’t let him be attacked for this. He was just being a friend in a time when I wouldn’t let anyone in my life.
“Give the guy a break,” I say. “He bends over backwards for you.”
Rose stares at me for a long moment, biting her gums, it seems. And then she tries to unlock the car again, but I beat her to the button, flicking it faster than she does.
“Loren,” she warns.
“Just say it,” I retort. “Say what you mean.” She doesn’t think I can handle it, but I can.
“You don’t understand,” she snaps. “Connor knew you were addicted, and he handed you beer. And you think that’s okay. You’re sitting there, telling me that it’s okay when it’s not. Do you see how wrong that is?”
“Rose, he didn’t do anything wrong.” I grimace as soon as I hear myself. And I understand immediately why Connor told me not to say a word in his defense. Because I am making a great case why he shouldn’t have given me an ounce of liquor. I’m the alcoholic—the one who believed I could live a life drinking every minute of every fucking day. Vouching for Connor makes him look guilty. And maybe he is to some extent.
“What he did was awful,” she says, “and I don’t care if it was just a means to be your friend.”
I run a shaky hand through my hair, and when I glance back at her, she pales a little. “No, I’m fine,” I say. “Honestly, I’m not going to go race to a liquor store after this conversation, okay?”
She nods, stiff and unmoving.
“Rose,” I say. “I’m not trying to defend the guy, but…” This is hard for me to say. I even clear my throat, the words lodging for a second. “…I don’t know if I would be right here if he didn’t find a way to enter my life and Lily’s. He was the first nonjudgmental person that I could withstand to be around. He never looked at me like I was fucked up, even if he was probably thinking it. I liked having him as a friend. I still do.”
I hand her the vase, and she no longer looks willing to chuck it at the wall.
“He’s human,” I remind her. “He’s not perfect. No one is.”
Her lips twitch. “Wise words from Loren Hale. You must have plagiarized from a fortune cookie.”
I let out a weak laugh, actually smiling at that one. She’s good. I unlock the car. From the back garage door, we enter the house, walking into the granite kitchen.
Lily must have heard the garage because she breezes through the archway with a zipped backpack. She sets it on a chair and waits patiently for me to approach her by the bar stool. She’s doing well, and then I notice the way she fiddles with her fingers, the way she presses her thighs tightly together.
I close the space between us and slide my arms around her shoulders. She rests her cheek to my chest, but her body doesn’t sag in relief. No, it tightens in eagerness. Lily doesn’t do hugs. She fucks until she passes out.
And I so badly want to fix her, but I can only help. The real mending—that has to be her job, her fight, her battle. I can’t win this one for her—just like she can’t defeat my demons.
Shoes tap along the hardwood, and I expect to see Connor Cobalt cresting the archway. Instead, I’m met with Sebastian Ross.
He’s still here after tutoring Lil? I internally groan. His self-confident swagger rubs me wrong. Always has. He wears a smug grin ninety-nine percent of the time, and he makes certain he knows what’s going on in everyone’s life. Sebastian and I have never seen eye to eye. Maybe because I say more mean comments to Rose than nice ones. He thinks I’m an asshole.
I am.
And he has full right to dislike me. I’ll give him that.
I guide Lily over to a small breakfast table and sit on the chair, bringing her on my lap. She opens her mouth, probably about to ask when we’re going to have sex, but she shuts her lips and blushes.
Before rehab, this is when I’d tease her. Run my hand down her thigh and watch her breath catch. It takes every ounce of strength to shake my head. Her eyes widen in slight horror, but I press a kiss to her temple.
I want to distract her from sex, so I ask, “Anything good on TV?”
“I taped Avengers Assemble while you were in rehab,” she says softly. “It’s pretty good, but they make Captain America look kinda weak.”
I smile. “Spoiler alert?”
“No, he wimps out in the first episode.” She seems to relax, which makes me relax.
“How was the meeting?” Sebastian asks Rose, a lit cigarette burning between two fingers.
“The meeting was fine,” she says. “The menswear collection just shipped, so everyone was excited.” When she turns to him, she spots the cigarette between his fingers, her eyes narrowing. With Connor’s vase still clenched in her hand, she plucks the cigarette from Sebastian. “Outside only.” She snuffs it in the sink and makes no other comment about it.
He gets away with more shit than any other guy in Rose’s life.
Lily resituates herself on my lap, straddling me on the chair all of a sudden. Fuck.
It’s the middle of the day. We shouldn’t have sex. It’s not considered the norm. I remind myself of all the reasons why this can’t happen. Not to mention Rose and Sebastian are halfway across the kitchen from us.
“How’s tutoring going?” Rose turns to Lily at this. She’s trying to delay what I think is the inevitable—my cock in Lily, her body and mind appeased, coming with a blissful high.
Lily points to her chest, flushed. “Oh, me?”
Rose gives her a look—one that tells her to relocate her common sense. Lily tucks her hair behind her ear and sits up a little from my chest. Progress, yes. But I can’t move my hands from her thighs. I’m afraid she’ll freak out by the lack of touch.
“I know why people call the class Stats and not Stat now.” She flashes a strained smile, hoping that’s enough for Rose.
“She’s doing fairly well,” Sebastian says nonchalantly. But his gaze descends to the vase between Rose’s fingers. He grabs the clear glass. “Is this crystal?”
“Yes,” Rose says tiredly. She pulls her glossy brown hair into a sleek pony.
Sebastian pauses for a second, and I realize Lily is entrapped with the scene, watching with more interest than she normally would have.
I squeeze her leg and lean forward to whisper in her ear, “What’s going on?”
But Sebastian speaks, cutting off any chance for Lily to reply. “Where are the flowers?”
“Dead.”
Sebastian opens a cupboard and slides out the trash.
“What are you doing?” Rose asks, her pitch spiking.
“He really expects to win you back with flowers. Come on, Rose.” Huh, I’m surprised Rose felt comfortable enough to share intimate details of her fight with Sebastian. I just didn’t think she opened up her frigid gates to anyone.
Rose stares questioningly at the vase in Sebastian’s hand, considering trashing Connor’s present.
Oh fuck that. “It’s crystal,” I remind her.
“Yeah,” Lily adds.
Sebastian looks unperturbed by the voices of dissent and rests an elbow on the counter. He passes the vase to Rose, but she hesitates by the trash bin.
“It’s Lalique,” she says under her breath, her fingers running over the smooth face. The vase is cut like a square, and the bottom has an intricate knot design.
“What does that mean?” Lily asks.
“He has good taste,” Rose says.
Sebastian makes a show of rolling his eyes.
Rose clutches the vase to her chest. “It’s my favorite brand.”
Only Rose would have a favorite kind of crystal at twenty-two. But more than that, Connor knew exactly what she liked. That detail has to count for something. I’m not even that perceptive.
Sebastian taps the counter, watching Rose closely. “You can keep it,” he says, “but what kind of message does that really send? Every fight, he’ll try to buy you back. Personally I’d be fine with that type of relationship. I have a pair of a crocodile leather shoes from Max in my closet, but I know you, Rose. After the fifth piece of jewelry, you’re going to be sick of him.”
Rose looks conflicted.
“Connor is trying to say he’s sorry,” Lily pipes in.
Sebastian looks bothered by Lily’s interjection. He tilts his head, his eyes flickering to her backpack. I’m missing something important. It doesn’t take a genius like Connor to figure that one out.
Lily hesitates, and she recoils into my chest. I wrap my arms around her and assault Sebastian with my glower. That’s what life in the first-class world is—a series of glares, half-smiles and scowls. Each one is lethal, each one like a fucking razor. And I’ve learned all of them from the best. Not Rose Calloway. My father could destroy her with his sharp ‘go-the-fuck-to-hell’ stare.
Hell, he’s almost destroyed me with it.
Rose sets the vase on the counter by the coffee pot, uncertain. “I have a box I need to grab from the car. I’ll be right back.” Partly, I think she’s leaving to hide how flustered she’s become. When she exits out the back door, Sebastian straightens up and grabs the vase off the counter.
Lily’s spine goes erect like a surprised cat. “What are you doing?”
“What Rose can’t. She’ll thank me later.” He chucks the vase in the trash bin.
“No!” Lily springs from my lap. I follow her, only because I don’t like that look in Sebastian’s eye. It’s the kind that I’ve seen from too many rich kids—the one where they think they’re invincible. That no one can touch them.
I’ve probably worn it on occasion.
Sebastian kicks the cupboard closed and extends his arms across the counter behind him, blocking Lily from the bin. She squats to go through his legs to reach it, but Sebastian holds his foot out. “Remember what’s at stake, Little Calloway,” he says casually, a voice so smooth that I want to tear it to shreds. Mine is nothing like that. I’m all edged, all something harsh and severe.
Lily freezes and slowly rises. I place my hands on her shoulders, confused as ever.
“Are you blackmailing her?” I ask.
Lily shakes her head first. “It’s okay,” she says to me. She places her palms on my chest and begins to push me away from the counters and towards the breakfast table again. It’s not okay. What the fuck is going on?!
The door opens. Rose enters with a paisley box labeled Spring/Summer Men’s Collection.
“So you’re really doing menswear?” Lily asks, her hand slipping in mine. She squeezes once, a sign that she’ll explain the Sebastian stuff later. I have to trust her.
Rose nods and pulls out a blue men’s sports coat and passes it to Sebastian.
“I like the pocket,” he says and inspects the silky lining. “I’m glad you went with this print.”
“Me too. The mini-checkers were too much.” She turns to Lily. “Sebastian’s been helping me with the collection.”
Lily told me Rose has been nervous about branching out since Calloway Couture has been strictly for women only.
“I know this is probably a busy time,” Rose says to Lily, taking the coat from Sebastian and folding it precisely, “but I could use your help at the office. Would you mind working more hours?”
Since my stay at rehab, Lily has occupied her time as Rose’s assistant, even if two other girls work at Calloway Couture for social media, online sales and whatever the hell Rose needs them for. Lily told me that she’s Rose’s numero uno bitch—and she said it all with a flourish of pride, which I found pretty adorable.
“Sure,” Lily agrees with a solid nod. But she grips my hand tighter, and then she blurts out, “But what about the male models?” And then her eyes dart to Sebastian and she pales, forgetting his presence.
“Oh yes,” Sebastian says, “they’re gorgeous. Maybe Rose can find you someone better to date than that one over there.” He points at me.
“And maybe she’ll find someone to replace you.” I mockingly pause. “Oh wait, she already has.” Where’s Connor Cobalt when you fucking need him?
The corner of Sebastian’s mouth tics. Good.
Rose sets the sport’s coat back in the box. “Sebastian, I think it’s time for you to go. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Sure.” He kisses her cheek, and then he waves to Lily. “Study hard.”
“I will,” she says tensely.
With this, he departs, and when the door slams, Rose sets her hands on her hips and faces Lily. “I won’t ever schedule the male models for fittings when you’re in the office, I promise.”
“I’m just scared,” Lily admits. She can’t even look at me.
I try to hold back a cringe. I should have more faith in her—that she won’t cheat on me, but I spent years hearing her fuck other guys through the walls. Being monogamous isn’t natural for her, and I’m honestly shocked she’s made it this long with just me. I wait for the day when I’m not enough, especially now that I can’t feed into her desires. I can’t give her what she can so easily receive from some other douchebag.
“I’m not going to put you in that position,” Rose tells her. “I promise.”
And if my plan works, then Lily shouldn’t be worried at all. But right as I muster the courage to ask Rose, the door opens and we all stiffen.
Sebastian is back.
But the shoes on the hardwood sound different, more confident, faster and determined.
Connor strolls through the archway with a stack of French bread pizzas. He slides them on the counter just as the tension eases. Well, technically only Lily and I relax. Rose’s shoulders lock like she’s preparing to crush someone underneath her heel. “Who did you think I was?” he asks us. He must notice the shift in the room.
“Sebastian,” Lily says.
“We were talking about sex,” I clarify.
He nods, understanding now. “How’d the tutoring go?” he asks, about to approach Rose and kiss her, but she stares at the wall, not at him. Come on, Rose, let the guy in.
Connor only studies her, more determined to win her affections. He leans against the counter and then gives Lily his full attention.
“It was fine. I think Sebastian is going to help a lot.”
Really? I always claimed I’d switch from whiskey to bleach if I had to talk to him for longer than ten minutes. Obviously, there’s something going on between Sebastian and Lily, but I don’t want to bring it up now.
“That’s good,” Connor says. “I’m sorry I can’t tutor you. If I had more time this semester, you know I would.”
“It’s fine, really.” She keeps saying that, and I think we all know it’s not fine.
Connor flips open one of the boxes, and Rose peers over his shoulder, risking the touch of his arm.
“Artichoke and mushrooms?” she asks.
He pulls out the second box and faces her. But he holds onto the pizza. “And feta.”
Lily mouths to me, her favorite.
He’s smooth. And Lily is grinning so hard, watching her sister and Connor reunite. Her whole face glows. Fuck it. I slide my arms around her waist, and I draw her to my chest, her warm body makes my cock throb. She lets out an audible sigh, but Connor and Rose are lost in their own intellectual world.
Rose waits for Connor to pass the box, but he’s not going to let her have the pizza so easily. I sometimes forget that he’s willing to test her as much as she does him.
“You broke the vase, didn’t you?” He must have seen the crumpled white roses by the gate. If he’s hurt by the fact, I can’t tell. Rose and other genius-types must be the only ones able to read him.
“What? No, I…” She glances over her shoulder by the sink—where she had previously set the vase. But it’s no longer there thanks to her “best” friend. Her gaze drifts to the cupboard with the sliding trash bin.
Connor follows her eyes, and he opens the cupboard and lifts out the expensive crystal, a fissure running through the side. Cracked, broken. He sets it by the sink and then passes her the pizza.
“I didn’t do that,” Rose immediately says. Her eyes light with fire. “I’m going to kill him.” I’ve heard her say that about Sebastian too many times to take the threat seriously.
“Sebastian?” Connor wonders.
Rose nods tersely. She puts the pizza down, no longer interested in eating, and she inspects the vase with delicate hands. Her shoulders drop. He comes behind her and whispers in her ear. When his voice grows, I catch the syllables, but I don’t understand the words.
He’s speaking to her in French.
She answers back in the foreign language, fluent. He kisses her head, and then she spins around and kisses his lips, standing on the tips of her toes.
Lily turns to face me at this, and her eyes grow wide and eager. I want to, Lil. God, do I want to. Now’s the best time to talk to Rose. Even if it’ll break her moment with her boyfriend, it’ll save me from rejecting Lily again.
“Rose,” I say.
She drops to her feet, but Conner keeps his hand tangled in her hair, intoxicated by Rose’s commanding movements. She possesses him, but he’s equally as possessive of her, which I still find strange. I thought for sure Rose would devour any man she touched, but they have this symbiotic relationship instead of the parasitic one I share with Lily.
“Yes?” she asks.
My throat swells at the thought of asking her for help. Even as the words rest on my tongue, saying them is so fucking hard. So I turn to Connor. “Have you heard anything from the private investigator?”
“He’s working on tracing the messages. We’ll see if we can find any leads.” After the wave of texts in the car, that’s not exactly the news I wanted to hear. I don’t like waiting around. I only have patience where Lily is concerned. Waiting for her to choose me over a quick lay—that was hard, but I endured it. Waiting for this guy to rip apart our lives—that, I’m not taking so well.
“Lo,” Rose snaps. Her hand flies back to her hip. She could tell I was dodging. “Spill.”
I inhale. “As you know…” I rub the back of my neck, heat flushing my body all of a sudden. I’m not used to that. “…I don’t have a college degree, so getting a job that pays better than minimum wage is going to be a challenge.”
The silence lingers, waiting for me to continue, three sets of eyes boring into me in curiosity and hesitation. They think I’m on the verge of giving up, of throwing my hands in the air and saying I can’t do hard, physical labor. I can’t flip burgers. I can’t fucking be a normal lower-class guy who has to work for his money. I’ve never had to do that, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t try. They think less of me, and I haven’t given them reason to believe otherwise.
“I’d have no problem flipping burgers,” I explain, “but I owe Ryke forty grand for rehab that I’d like to pay in a reasonable amount of time…plus, you know, rent.” I pause again, half expecting Rose to bail me out and say, you don’t have to pay rent, Lo, you’re practically family. But I forget who she is for a brief second. Maybe her little meltdown over a vase tricked me, but she stands resolute, strong, unwilling to let me take the easy road.
Good.
Still, I glare. Habit. “You’re going to make me ask, aren’t you?” I say.
She smiles icily. “Last year in the Cayman Islands, you said that not even the abominable snowman would want to fuck me.”
Lily gasps, “You did not.”
“I did.”
She punches my arm. I mock wince. Yeah, I deserved that.
Connor stays completely impassive. But he holds Rose closer, as though silently saying I’m wrong. Clearly guys with insanely high IQs want to fuck her.
I let out a deep breath. Here it goes. “I’ve already been scouted by modeling agencies before,” I explain. “You’d be an idiot not to use me in your menswear campaign.” Way to go, Loren. Call her an idiot. That’s definitely the way to land a job. Jesus Christ, no wonder you’ve never had one.
“I remember that,” Rose says stiffly.
“How come you’ve never modeled if you were scouted?” Connor asks.
“I may have walked into the interview drinking straight from a bottle of Jack Daniel’s.” I was fucking with the agency, wasting peoples’ time and mine. I didn’t really want to model. I still don’t, but it’ll be quick money. And this is a chance for me to redo my past mistakes. I can make things right.
Connor lets out a long whistle. “Impressive.”
“I think so too.”
Rose looks ready to reignite their old argument, but Connor leans in and whispers into her ear again. French. Can’t understand a fucking word. She eases considerably.
“I need a translator,” Lily whispers to me.
“Or an interpreter.” Preferably not a male interpreter. I can just picture Lily getting aroused and flushed from some French guy. Even that proposed fantasy makes me cringe. Jealousy is the one thing I don’t ever want to tear us apart. But it’s there. Festering.
Rose finally pins her eyes back on me. “Modeling is difficult,” she says, her voice much softer. “It’s not just about having a good body or a pretty face. Ask Daisy.”
“I know,” I say. “But Rose, this isn’t going to be a career for me. I just need to make enough money to pay back my debts and get on my own two feet. That’s it.” I glance at Lily for a second. “And you won’t have to mess up your schedule for Lil. I’ll be there while the other models are. It’ll be better.”
Lily holds onto the waistband of my jeans, and she says, “And what are you going to do after modeling?”
I have no idea. The fog of my future is too thick to clear. “One step at a time,” I say. She nods, understanding.
Rose mulls over my proposition for a minute. And then she says, “Fine.”
I break into a full grin.
And she adds, “But just so we have things clear, I’m doing this out of pity.”
My smile vanishes. “You could have stopped at fine.”
It’s her turn to grin. “I know.”