Addicted After All (16 page)

Coming.
I am on fire, paranoia heightening with the idea that
everyone
is reading my perverted thoughts. “Happy nineteenth,” I tell her, which I should’ve this morning.

“Thanks.” She smiles brighter. “I’m going to go get a drink from the bar. Do you want a water or anything?”

I shake my head. “I’ll follow you down there though.” We stroll along the skinny outside walkway. I just now recognize the muscle shirt she’s wearing. I bought this one for her birthday: a print of a unicorn prancing in a field of daises with a rainbow. It reminded me of her, and I was too excited to wait until this weekend to reveal it. The white fabric covers her bikini.

“What’d Ryke get you?” I ask.

She shrugs and fixes her hair into a high bun. “He’s not the gift-giver kind of guy.”

Noooo.
He did not forget. Rose texted him twenty different threats if he failed to remember Daisy’s birthday present. I only know this because Ryke showed me a picture of a chopped, burnt hot dog that Rose sent him.

Thank goodness produce and meat products haven’t turned me on. I’ve headed to a new horrible low if that happens.

“Ryke would make an exception for you,” I tell her.

“It’s okay,” she shrugs again. I really can’t tell if it bothers her or not.

And that’s when Ryke climbs the stairs to our walkway, the stairs that we must descend. I’ve been successfully avoiding him since we baked cookies. I don’t want to feel like a gross monster around Ryke, and until I figure out how to alter those feelings, I’ve decided to put myself in situations where I
can’t
have them at all.

Which makes this run-in right now very, very awkward.

I go silent with Daisy, and we come to a sort of standstill. It’s ten times worse because Ryke is very tanned and very shirtless. Another set of abs. More muscles that point to swim trunks, this time black ones with blue trim.

I find a solution, planting my gaze on his feet. Safe. There is nothing I can do about my embarrassed flush at this point. I just have to ignore it.

Ryke breaks the uneasy silence. “I left my sunglasses in the cabin.” 

Daisy lets out a mock gasp. “You mean these sunglasses?” She waves his black wayfarers in the air and then puts them on.

I take a peek, a mistake because he gives my little sister the longest once-over in history of once-overs. My breath feels shallow, and the shame starts rising like molten lava.

“Cute, Calloway.”

I have to get out of here. I’ll submerge my whole body in an ice cold pool. Maybe it’ll rewire my brain. Plan concocted, I step forward to dart away, my concentration back on the deck.

And then my chest instantly collides with Ryke. I flinch back. “Sorry!” I shout nervously, hands raised. I catch a glimpse of him, confusion knotting his eyebrows.

“Why are you fucking red?”

Oh my God.

“It’s hot out,” Daisy covers for me. She knows very well that this is a different sort of hot. And yet, she’s on my side, sticking up for me—it’s kindness that I love and cherish with all my heart. But guilt sinks low because I’m flushed partly from
her
boyfriend.

It’s all screwed up.

I shield my face with a sweaty palm. “Yeah, it’s really hot. Imheadingtothepool,” I slur quickly, spinning on my heels to go to the stairs.

“We’re right behind you,” Ryke tells me.

And I suppress a shudder that borders fear (of myself) and something worse.

“
Not
like that, Lil.” I hear the concern in his voice.

“IknowIknow,” I mutter. I skip a couple steps on my way down to the main deck, and I round the corner towards the pool, tugging on the fabric of my one-piece that molds a very tiny baby bump. When the cool blue water comes into view, I ignore Lo on a lounge chairs. Prepared to just spring in.

I channel my inner-dolphin.

Here I go.

I hop and splash into the pool, expecting the cold to breach my lungs and steal my breath and fix everything.

Instead, the water warms my bones.

What. In the world.

I ungracefully surface, spitting chlorine water out of my mouth, the temperature of a
bath.
This did not go as planned. I comb my wet hair out of my face and eyes, and I try to heave my body out of the pool. I don’t struggle for too long. Lo squats in front of me and lifts underneath my arms, so effortlessly.

I graze his features, lusting after his sheer masculinity.
Snap out of it, Lily.
I blink quickly, hoping he’ll morph into a monster.

Not so. Loren Hale is striking and gorgeous through and through. If he possesses any monstrous qualities, they’re layered with beauty.

“Why are you so pretty?” I say.

His amber eyes penetrate me. “Just think about how awful I look in the morning.”

I let out a small laugh. “You’re still beautiful.”

He lifts my chin so I stop staring at his lips. “Lily Calloway,” he breathes, “you’re doing really well. I’m proud of you.” My heart swells.

He knows I’m aroused. He knows how hard it is to snuff out these feelings that pop up from almost anything and everything.

Dripping in water, I kiss his nose quickly, showing that I’m able to control this. Somewhat. And I choose the lounge chair next to his, lying down. “If I Jedi mind-trick myself, all will be well,” I tell him with a nod. I shut my eyes to attempt this.

I hear the legs of his lounge chair scrape along the deck. The frame touches mine, and he lies on his towel, close to me but not too close. A perfect non-tempting distance.

“You should know, Lil,” he says in a low voice, “that every guy on this yacht has the hairiest goddamn feet. It’s nothing but hobbits.”

I smile, my eyes still closed. Although Frodo is cute, I’m pro-elves. “Are they all short too?”

“Oh yeah, they barely reach your waist.”

“Except you,” I say, licking my lips.

“I’m not an elf,” he reminds me.

I pop one eye open and turn my head. He’s lying on his back like me. “You’re a wizard—”

“No, Lil,” he whispers. “I’m human.”

I shift on my side, my legs crossed together. I reach out to hold his hand, and he lets me, not scared of enabling. “Do you think our baby will have powers though? Even if we’re human, he could be magical?”

Lo nods determinedly. “Definitely. He’ll be the strongest guy ever.”

“Like Professor Xavier,” I smile at the image. But it fades quickly. “Do you think…do you think he’ll forget about us, if we’re just human and he’s something more?” Beads of water roll down my temple.

Lo’s hand rises to my arm, and he rubs my skin soothingly. The embrace comforts me more than it arouses. “I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I guess we’ll see.”

Yeah. I guess we will.

I’ve drawn closer to Lo, I realize, my ankle hooked over his, but it’s not a sexual action. It’s just a natural one.

* * *

While Lo grabs waters from inside, I decide to wade in the pool for longer than a couple seconds this time. I’ve been scrolling through his cellphone. Not the best idea since that picture of me bent over, reaching for sunglasses, has turned into an internet meme. My brows crinkle at the dozens of photoshopped images. There’s one where Ryke grabs me from behind instead of just standing there.

Where I’m reaching for a dildo instead of sunglasses.

Where Loren and Ryke are cropped out and replaced by hot dogs.

It’s awful. Though their photoshop skills are pretty good. I have to give them credit for that.

“Connor,” Rose says, her lounge chair scooted next to his. A paperback perched on his lap, his hand has yet to leave her bare neck. He massages her while she clutches an empty ice bucket. Rose risked vomiting again to join me outside.

It takes a solid second to realize that Rose commanded him to do something since she’s out of commission. Connor needs no more info to read her well.

He just stretches forward and
steals
my phone right from me. And then he settles back, his hand returning to Rose like nothing just happened.

“That was mean,” I tell him. “I was doing important research.”

“If I didn’t do it, she would’ve tried,” Connor explains, passing the cell to my sister. “And I don’t want my wife moving around.”

Rose searches through the phone’s history and then gives me a cold look.

I raise my hands out of the pool. “They were hard to avoid.”

“The more you stare at these, the more paranoid you become. If
anyone
is jumping overboard, it’s
me
.” She went from slaughtering the boat to drowning herself. I take it that she’s feeling pretty lousy still.

Connor flips a page in his book and says something in French.

She replies back, shutting her eyes tightly. He pulls her closer to his side, his arm sliding around her shoulders. Hugging her in comfort. He whispers another French word and then kisses her forehead.

I frown, wishing I could understand them. Even with my studying, I can only pick up a few words here and there. I block the sun with my fingers and scrutinize the spine on Connor’s book. A smile replaces my frown. It’s C.S. Lewis’
The Voyage of the Dawn Treader.

For Christmas, I gifted Connor the entire
Chronicles of Narnia
series. Normal people ask for things
they
want for Christmas, but Connor asked us to gift him things we like. He consumed Lo’s present—G.R.R. Martin’s
Song of Fire and Ice
series—in a matter of three weeks. Now he must be working on my gift.

With a happier mood, my gaze drifts and lands on Ryke and Daisy, both of which sit on the silver railing near the stern. We’re anchored, so the yacht doesn’t wobble too badly. Daisy takes off her shirt, and Ryke wears her hairband around his wrist. Her blonde hair and dyed green tips are tangled and slightly frizzy.

I’m too far away to pick up their conversation, though Ryke smiles and that says enough.

“They’re a good couple,” I say aloud. And then I turn back to Rose and Connor, leaning my arms against the ledge. “Why does the media insist on destroying something beautiful?”

Rose slips her Chanel sunglasses on, her knee curved towards Connor, almost lying on her side. She seems more relaxed though.

Connor glances at Rose, his hand placed on her thigh. “Is this a rhetorical question?”

“I think so.”

It wasn’t, but maybe there isn’t an answer.

Connor ditches his book to scroll through his phone, glimpsing at Rose every half minute to check on her. And when his eyes fix back on the cell, he suddenly frowns. “Lily, did you…” Even though his chair is propped up, he sits even straighter. “You joined Twitter?”

“Just for two seconds,” I say, raising my hands again. It was really hard finding a username since variations of “Lily Calloway” were already taken by fans. I ended up with @lilycallowayX23, and I sent a total of
three
very important tweets.

“Right now?” he asks. “You joined Twitter five minutes ago, while we were all sitting here?”

I squint. “Is this a rhetorical question?”

Rose snatches his phone to confirm. “I don’t understand why you always use that OTP thing.”

“Because it’s awesome,” I say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I had to let the Twitterverse know that I am one-hundred percent in support of Team Raisy.” Our publicists should’ve thought of this strategy months ago. I’m only helping.

And these should clear up my stance on the matter. Tweet 1:
This is the official Twitter account of Lily Calloway. Hooray!

I had to announce myself.

Tweet 2:
#Raisy is my favorite OTP. I ship it.

Tweet 3:
Ryke & Daisy are cuter than cute right now. #Raisy is alive.

I will make this trend. No more stupid “Raisy is dead” anymore.

“I know I didn’t pass it by the publicist,” I say, “but it really can only help.”

Connor and Rose suddenly go quiet and very still. They exchange a few words in French to each other, and she delicately passes him his phone back.

I frown. “What?”

They’re holding hands now. Like a united force.

My heart thuds.

Connor actually removes his sunglasses, his blue eyes very calm. It makes me less nervous. “Lily,” he says, “it sort of seems like you’re trying too hard. Does that make sense?”

“She understands,” Rose tells him. “You don’t have to talk down to her.”

I don’t understand though. “I’m just expressing myself.”

“You need to tweet more then,” he tells me. “Because the way this comes across—it makes it look like you’re trying to cover up something.”

I shake my head fiercely. “That’s not what I was trying to do.”

“I know,” he says quickly. “I know, and other people will believe you.”

“Okay good.” I swallow a lump that’s risen.
Where’s Lo?

Daisy is laughing, full-bellied laughs that pulls my attention over to her. Ryke has a brooding expression, but his lips curve upward too.

In two seconds flat, Ryke purposefully shoves Daisy’s shoulder. With force.

She plummets off the side of the boat, a larger laugh echoing. It looked mean, not nice or friendly, but I’m sure my wild, daring sister loved it.

“Ryke!” A strict voice booms across the stern. My father—with his salt-and-pepper hair, pressed khakis and polo shirt—storms over to this side of the boat. He looks ready to throw Ryke overboard.

Connor and Rose straighten, on alert.

My nerves swarm my belly, and I glance over my shoulder, waiting for Lo to appear. He’s nowhere in sight though.

“You can’t just push my daughter off the boat!” my father yells.

Ryke stands, but he’s still outside the railing. His muscles are all strained, and his jaw locks, which isn’t the only sign that he’s frustrated and angry. It’s all over his face. “No offense, but everything I fucking do annoys you.”

“Then maybe you should change that,” my dad retorts.

Ryke instinctively shakes his head.

“No?” my dad says with distaste. Their voices are much louder than Ryke’s previous conversation with Daisy. I can hear most everything.