Текст книги "Addicted for Now"

Автор книги: Becca Ritchie

Соавторы: Krista Ritchie
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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 31 страниц)

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LOREN HALE

I rub my lips, not sure what to make of Lily sitting on the toilet lid with her jeans halfway up her ankles. I worry about her heavy breath and the shakiness of her hands. She’s an addict who needs her next fix.

“Lo, I didn’t,” she says again.

And I believe her this time. Tears threaten to spill down her cheeks, and I rush to her before she has a major breakdown. I squat to match her height, and I place my hands on her knees. “Hey, shh.” I cup her face and rub a fallen tear with my thumb. “You’re okay.”

She shakes her head.

“Can you wait?” I ask her. “You have five more hours.”

She shudders.

I can’t watch her crumble like this. My lungs constrict, my whole chest clenching.

“You should go back,” she says. “You’re working.”

I’ve changed out of the Calloway Couture clothes, and I wear my regular black shirt and jeans. “They’re writing down the alterations for the other models. I have time.” I’m supposed to be putting on my second outfit, but Rose is preoccupied with measurements and test shots. She won’t miss me for long.

Lily stares at her hands in her lap, barely meeting my eyes. “I can wait,” she says under her breath, so meek that I don’t believe her for a second.

“Can you?” I ask.

She nods and wipes her nose with the back of her hand. I tuck her hair behind her ear, wanting so badly to pull her into my arms and to make it all better. But that’s not how this new chapter of our lives is supposed to go, is it?

“I didn’t have sex for three whole months,” she says softly. “What’s five hours?”

“This is different.”

“Why?” she asks, her chin quivering. She so badly wants to grab me. I can see it in the way her eyes flit over my body for a brief moment. She catches herself and stares back at the floor.

“Because I wasn’t there,” I tell her. “You didn’t have the opportunity to touch me. It was easier.” I imagine three months without me was like being locked in a house without booze. If there’s nothing to drink, then you’re not going to get drunk. But there are always liquor stores. The same way there are always other guys to fuck. She also had the option to touch herself, but she’s eliminated that completely. She stuck to her vows.

And I know that if I leave her like this, she’ll break one by masturbating. She can’t last five hours, and she won’t ask me to have sex with her. So she’ll be drawn to the next best thing, thinking that self-love is the right solution. She won’t cheat on me. She’ll just cheat on herself.

So while she sniffs and wipes her tears, I rack my mind for that damn blacklist with the therapist’s rules. My head is fuzzy, distracted by Lily’s constant trembling and the way her knees begin to turn inward.

“Lo,” she cries. “I think you should leave.”

My chest falls. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And before she can refute, I kiss her. I part her lips with my tongue, and she clenches my shirt, her soft moans like thank yous. Each one drives me harder, and my movements become as hungry as hers. I lift her in my arms, her legs instinctively wrapping around my waist. And I knock her back into the wall. Her voice is lost in the base of my neck, her forehead pressing to my shoulder.

“I need you,” she whispers, panicked. “Please…” The fear in her voice cuts a new scar.

“Shh, love.” I rub my hand through the back of her hair, and I nip her ear with my teeth. She shudders against me. I want her to release, but I feel like there’s no winning with this one. If I let her go, she’ll masturbate. If I fuck her, she’ll hate herself. If I make her come, she’ll still be filled with shame and guilt for not lasting five hours.

There is no right answer, no fucking break. And so each stroke against her flesh is seared with tension and a strong ache, my heart pounding like a jackhammer to cement.

And I kiss her again, my lips swelling beneath her eagerness, her insistency to push deeper, to go farther. She runs her bitten nails across my back, not sharp enough to draw blood, not even long enough to truly scratch, but she digs her fingers into my skin. She grips so fiercely, as though I am two seconds from dropping her. From saying no.

My brain clicks, and the blacklist isn’t hazy anymore. We can’t do this. I retract my lips from her, and I don’t meet her eyes.

I fucked up.

I want to punch the wall. I want to scream. More than anything, I want to go sit at a bar and forget the road I was about to pull Lily down. What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Lo…”

I bring her to her feet, and she wobbles unsteadily. I keep a hand on her waist, but there’s considerable amount of distance between us.

“What did I do…?” Her high-pitched voice lurches my stomach.

“Nothing,” I say, tucking another piece of hair behind her ear.

“Then we can do something…” She grips my shirt again, clenching the fabric between two panicked fists.

I pry her fingers from me. “We can’t have sex here, and I can’t touch you here either.” But she can’t wait until tonight.

She nods rapidly. And as the news settles with her, she pulls her shoulders back like I’ve seen Rose often do. She raises her chin, trying to be strong. Christ, I want to her kiss her for it and to apologize for tempting her even more. I should have taken her to our house where we can have sex. In fact, that’s what we’re going to do now.

“Grab your stuff,” I tell her. “We’re going home, and I’ll make you come there.” My tone isn’t sexy. It’s clinical. I just want her to be able to wait until we reach our bedroom.

I find her jeans on the ground, and I help put her legs in each pant hole.

“Wait,” she says.

I don’t want to give her the chance to convince me to have sex with her in the bathroom. It’s not happening. I already screwed up by arousing her more—I don’t need to break anything on that blacklist.

Public sex—yeah, that’s not fucking allowed.

I zip up her jeans and fish the button through, towering over her with dominance that makes her squirm. I want to kiss her. God, I just want to hold her. But instead of drawing towards Lily, I have to draw back.

“Wait,” she says again, more forceful this time. She grabs my wrist to stop me. “You’re not going home.”

“I’m not leaving you,” I say. I don’t add that I don’t trust her. Her fingers may slip into her panties; she may give herself what I’ve denied.

“You’re working,” she reminds me, tears building again. “I’m not ruining your first job.” She inhales a strong breath and adds, “I’ll stay at my desk, and when you’re done working, we can go.”

I hesitate.

“You should only be one more hour. I can wait that long.”

“Plus the ride home,” I remind her.

She nods quickly. “Yes, yes.”

I like this option. Mostly because Lily came up with the idea, and it’ll lessen whatever guilt she’ll feel for not being able to wait tonight. “Okay.” I kiss her cheek. And she sighs, but as she walks to the door, the tension becomes apparent in the way her thighs press together.

I lead her out of the bathroom, and we enter the loft space where Trish and Katie fling clothes at one another, fixing the garments on the models quickly. I look around for Rose, but she’s nowhere in sight.

Lily keeps her eyes pinned to the desk and nowhere else. “I’ll be okay,” she says, more to herself than me.

“I know you will.”

I watch her make the short journey to her desk. She slides into her chair and studies her computer screen, focused and concentrated. Maybe it’s all a façade. But I know she’s trying damn hard.

I need to find Rose to tell her that I’m leaving right after I finish with the fitting. There aren’t many places she could be. Besides her glass office, there’s only the backroom. I saunter down the short hallway, my shoulders stiff. I stuff my fists in my pockets so they’ll stop shaking. I feel high on fear and concern, my adrenaline spiked badly. I just need a drink.

Her icy voice echoes from an open door. I rest my arm on the frame, my eyes darting around the dimly lit area that’s filled with marked boxes, racks of clothes, and clear plastic tubs. Rose has her back to me, a phone pressed to her ear.

“I don’t want to have this conversation with you right now. We have a photo shoot next week and a runway show in two months—”

 “Which is precisely why I called.” I’d recognize Samantha Calloway’s biting voice from the fucking moon. I’m not surprised that she called her daughter. She’s been involved with Rose’s company from its birth.

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

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

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

I freeze.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing,” she says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I quit,” I tell her.

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

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

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

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

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

I nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Some things never change.

* * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You have her number?” I question.

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

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

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

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

Lily balks. “I…”

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

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

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

“I already did,” he retorts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And I can’t help it.

I deck him. Right in the face.

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

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

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

And then he says, “I knew it.”

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

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

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

“Have you been texting me?” I glare.

Mason grits his teeth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lily breathes heavily.

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

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

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

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

“I don’t believe you,” I tell her.

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

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

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

“And masturbate?”

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

I lean forward and finger the button on her jeans.

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

“I’m checking.”

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

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

“You’re not aroused?” I ask again.

Her head tilts back, her eyes closed, her hand gripping my wrist so I don’t move. “No,” she breathes.

“You’re a little liar.”

“I’m not.” She gasps as I push deeper, in and out. “Lo,” she cries. Her back begins to arch, trying to drive my fingers further inside.

We need to move this upstairs. I disentangle from her tight clutch and slip my fingers out. “Go upstairs,” I tell her. “Take off all your clothes, lie still on the bed, and I’ll make you feel better.”

She nods wildly, wanting nothing more than for me to take her mind off of what just happened. She opens the door and then hesitates. “Are you not coming with me?”

“I’ll be there in a second.”

“Lo—”

“I just need a minute.”

She glances at the raw skin on my knuckles, and then she nods again and heads into the house. When the door closes behind her, I grab my phone and dial a number.

The line clicks after the third ring. “Hey. How was the first day on the job?”

I can’t speak. I shouldn’t have called him. I’m about to hang up.

“Lo?” Ryke’s voice turns serious. “Hey, talk to me.”

 I let out a breath. “Tell me why I shouldn’t.” I pinch my eyes. I want this to end. This torment. These feelings. I want to help Lily without needing something to drown my own thoughts.

“Because one drink isn’t worth what you’ll feel in the morning.”

“That’s not good enough.”

 “You’ll puke,” he reminds me. That’s right, I’m on Antabuse. One sip of alcohol and I’ll be sick.

I pause, wondering if I still could test it out. Maybe I could. I grimace. Maybe I couldn’t.

“Because you love Lily more than that.”

And it hits me. I’m here. In the fucking car. Debating about a stupid glass of alcohol when Lily is waiting for me upstairs, fighting her compulsions, probably seconds from touching herself. And I’m supposed to be there to help her say no. To stop her. I’m the guy looking out for her the way Ryke is there for me.

Rose trusted that I would be able to stay sober and help Lily. And this is the one thing I want to do right.

“I have to go,” I say.

“Wait.” His voice pitches. “Do I need to come over? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, don’t come over.”

“Are you sure?”

“Ryke, unless you want to walk in on me fucking my girlfriend, you need to stay at home.”

There’s a long pause, and then, “See you tomorrow?”

“Yep.” We both hang up.

And I step out of the car.

Ready to help Lily. Ready to be there.

Ready to change.