Addicted After All (20 page)

Rose lunges for me—what the
hell.

I instinctively flinch back while Connor seizes her around the waist—right before she catapults across the fucking table. She’s incredibly pregnant and acting like she’s a pole jumper in the Olympics.

I give her a weird look. “Way to sacrifice your baby for payback.” It was such a low blow that I regret it the moment it leaves my lips. My heart clenches like it’s skipping five beats at once.

Connor shoots me a single expression that says
drop it.
He’s holding the back of Rose’s head, and she says something fiercely to him in French.

I look to Ryke.

My brother sighs but ends up ratting them out, “She doesn’t call Connor
sir
, ever.”

Connor lets annoyance cross his face. He’s not a fan of Ryke understanding their private French conversations. So I’m not surprised when Connor says something in
Italian
to Ryke. When Ryke responds in the same language, gesticulating like he’s just as pissed, Lily’s eyes grow big.

She extends her arms, almost whacking me in the face. “I thought we said no secret languages?”

I cut in, already sorry I started this string of arguments. “I got it wrong,” I tell Rose. “I accept that. For Christ’s sake, I wouldn’t be surprised if I only got one out of three right.”

Rose stares at me with more confidence in her stiff posture and focused eyes. “Two out of three were right,” she says honestly, owning up to her sexual preferences.

I nod. “I’m not such a loser then,” I say dryly. “Shocking.”

She eases down a little. Look at that, I calmed the ice queen. Who would have thought this day would come?

Lily turns her head and whispers to me, “Maybe you’re inheriting some of Connor’s smart person powers.” She noticed the same thing as me.

I give her a smile. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Or you could’ve had them all this time and you never knew,” she says, her eyes brightening at that idea.

“The former is more probable,” I tell her, expecting her to frown. Instead she clings to me harder, as though saying she loves me all the same.

I take a deep breath, one that releases all kinds of strain.

Seconds later, a server appears, passing out a new rum and Fizz to Poppy, a tequila sunrise to Daisy, and a glass of wine to Connor. Poppy twirls her stir straw in her drink and says to Rose, “Your turn.”

Rose tugs at the hem of her dress and then rotates to Connor. “Truth or dare, Richard?”

“You can’t choose him,” Poppy reminds her. “We’re not letting couples choose their partner.”

Rose rolls her eyes dramatically. “For this absurd rule…” She targets her older sister. “Truth or dare?”

Poppy’s muscles are relaxed from the booze, and she leans into her husband’s chest. Sam and Poppy hug more than they kiss in public, and whenever they start to have an argument, they usually take it to another room. They’re so normal that having them here reminds me how the rest of us ride these extremes of life, rarely wading in the “okay” content state.

Connor is too conceited.

Rose is too high-strung.

Daisy is too wild.

Ryke is too aggressive.

Lily is too awkward.

I’m too hateful.

Sam and Poppy are just right.

And I wonder if they’re the ideal we should all be striving for. Or if we should just accept our nature and continue as we are.

After brief contemplation, Poppy says, “Dare.”

“I dare you to give me a shoulder massage.” Rose snaps her fingers like
hurry up.

Of course she’d find a way to benefit from the dare.

Poppy scoots closer to her sister on the couch and starts kneading Rose’s shoulders with her fingers. Rose looks at peace, as though everything worked in her favor.

“Loren,” Poppy says. “Truth or dare?”

I tense. “Truth,” I say, even though dare might be easier for me. I selfishly don’t want to move Lily off my lap for any reason. I like her where she is.

“How many people in this room have you seen buck naked? Name them too.”

I tilt my head. “And I was just starting to like you, Poppy.”

“You always tell me that,” she says warmly.

I do? I mentally pass through her comment while I calculate my answer.
Christ.
“Four people. Lily, of course. Ryke.”

Ryke raises his brows quickly like
guilty.
This happens when we’re undressing for events in one room. We all just don’t care.

“Connor,” I add.

He raises his wine glass to me.

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

She playfully winces. “Sorry.”

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

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

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

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

Rose’s mouth drops. “
Loren
—”

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

Rose relaxes back into Connor.

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

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

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

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

“When Connor walked in, and Ryke came on your face—how embarrassed were you?”

All of Daisy’s sisters’ jaws unhinge. Daisy slumps down in the couch, her eyes wide in complete horror. I may have unleashed one of the few secrets still kept in the group.

I hear Sam mutter to Poppy, “Where am I?” He’s shielding his eyes with his hand. He’s known Daisy practically forever.

Connor is smiling into his wine glass, and Ryke looks like he wants to tear off my head—or maybe Connor’s.

“You fucking told him?” Ryke growls at Connor.

“Maybe a month ago,” Connor admits. “It was a good story. I felt guilty for keeping it to myself.”

“Fuck you,” Ryke curses.

Rose smacks Connor’s chest. “You walked in on them?”

“It was unintentional,” Connor says easily. “Though the timing was bad—or perfect, depending on the way you look at it.”

“There’s no good fucking way to look at it,” Ryke retorts.

“Had I not walked in right then, I don’t think you would’ve come on her face at all.”

Ryke groans. “Just stop fucking talking.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Truth or dare?” Daisy suddenly asks Lily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Connor takes his hand off Rose’s and he rubs his lips, as though trying to hide his irritation. But I can’t tell for sure. “I pick the only choice you’re giving me.”

And then Ryke says, without missing a beat, “Kiss Loren. For thirty fucking seconds.”

Yeah.

He got us both back in one strike.

My stomach has caved.

And my eyes flit up to Connor, who is studying me, mostly. I can’t read his expression, but he’s definitely not uncomfortable like most people would be.

I’m confident in my sexuality enough to do the dare—I just worry about the cameras pointed at us and how this’ll affect his reputation more than my own. He has more to lose, being the CEO of Cobalt Inc.

I notice that Sam has covered his eyes again, acting like this is not happening. It may not.

“Can’t fucking do it?” Ryke challenges Connor, who I doubt has ever quit a game, even a “juvenile” one.

Without removing his gaze from mine, Connor says, “I’m just weighing my options.” He’s not Rose. Ryke’s phrase would’ve egged her to do it, too prideful not to—but Connor is more logical about his actions.

And then he rises. “Stand up,” he commands to me
.

“Are you sure—”

“I can handle the backlash,” he says, and his eyes briefly flicker to Ryke. I get it. He values his friendship with Ryke
this
much—that he’s willing to risk criticism or a new headline in the tabloids just to even the playing fields again. “
Stand up
.”

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

How does this even fucking work? He’s two inches taller than me, and I have no idea who is going to go for it first. I lick my lips nervously, and I wonder if this looks more sexual than anxious. I wipe my mouth with my hand and glance back at Lily. “Don’t look.”
God fucking shit.
I don’t need her to be aroused from
this.