Addicted After All (54 page)

“Your mom is going to fly out this weekend to talk with you. Until then, you can either stay with us in a guest room or at a hotel. I’ll pay for the expense, no problem.”

“A hotel works,” she says. “I don’t want to…impose any more than I already have.”

Moffy squirms and kicks out, and Lily thankfully takes him from me so I can concentrate.  “If you change your mind, the invite is always open.” Before she interjects, I ask, “How old are you, by the way?”

“Seventeen.”

“That’s what I thought.” I think about this for a second. “You know, Daisy is pretty close to your age.”

Ryke shoots me a look like
that better not be a slight at me.
It wasn’t one.

I continue, “She’d probably love showing you around Philly. Is this your first time here?”

“Yeah, but…” Willow nervously rises to her feet since we’re all standing. She holds the strap of her backpack like it’s her lifeline. “I’m not sure she’d like me. I mean, I don’t like motorcycles and…other stuff like that.” She avoids Ryke’s gaze. We all have reputations that circulate in the media, and so I’m guessing that’s all she knows about us.

“Neither do I,” Lily says. “They’re terrifying.”

“You haven’t even ridden one,” Ryke retorts.

“
Because
they’re terrifying,” Lily notes.

Willow’s shoulders slacken. “Yeah, same. I’ve never been on one, but I’m scared too.”

Lily brightens when Willow agrees with her, and she points a finger at Ryke. “Ha!” Moffy gurgles like he’s trying to mimic that sound, but it’s incoherent baby talk. 

Ryke says to Willow, “Daisy won’t care if you’re not into bikes. She’d honestly do anything you want.”

“I’ll take off work some days this week too,” I tell Willow. It’s the one good thing about being the CEO of a company. I have the luxury to make my own hours, but even if I neglect Halway Comics some, I can’t ditch Hale Co. meetings. I’m still competing for the title against my brother.

After the charity event, only three board members thought Daisy would be a good fit for the job. Irene has more sway and convinced everyone that Daisy was too young.

“Okay then,” Willow says. “…where do we start?”

“How about lunch?” I ask.

Everyone voices their approval like they’re starving, and I wait for Willow to say something. Her glasses mist with tears again.

“Thank you,” she says beneath her breath.

Ryke has been a great big brother to me. And if I can pay it forward and do the same for her, I’ll try my hardest. I may not be the best at anything, but I can be better than mediocre.

{ 60 }

LILY CALLOWAY

Lo stays inside of me for an extended minute or two, and I didn’t even have to ask. Sweat gleams on my skin as I lie beneath the weight of his toned body. Even as I come down from an epic climax, I ache for one more. Per the usual.

But I’ve learned to wait until tomorrow or the morning. Compulsive, needy Lily is put to rest, somewhere far, far away. In a dystopian land before this peaceful place.

I stare at Lo’s beautiful pink lips. Mine still sting, and it’s like I can feel him on me, even though we’re a breath apart.

Kiss me.
I realize that I actually say it aloud when his lips touch mine in a gentle, tender kiss. When he pulls out, he props his body next to mine and combs my damp hair off my forehead.

“October tenth,” he says the date with a growing smile.

I’ve yet to fully believe that we’re going to be married sometime soon. Less than a month away. “Are you sure you don’t want to postpone?”

His smile vanishes instantly, and I regret even asking.

I sit up and clutch the red sheet to my chest. “It’s just that the board members are choosing a CEO on October first, and…” I trail off at the sight of his sharp jawline.

“If you want to pick another date, that’s fine, Lil, but I don’t want your reasoning to be about my emotional stability. I’ve been ready to marry you since I was seven years old, in case you forgot.” He flashes that half-smile that somehow draws me closer to him, not further away.

I easily straddle his waist while he sits up and rests against the headboard. Without saying anything, I plant both of my palms on his defined abs, watching them rise and fall with his body. “I love October tenth,” I whisper. We chose the date spontaneously, while we were cooking tacos for the house. It felt right. It still does, but doubt likes to creep in and destroy all good things.

He holds my face in a comforting hand. “That day isn’t going to be tainted by anything, love. I know you can’t believe that yet, but you’re going to see it.”

It seems like a dream. I kiss his sharp jaw quickly, and he kisses back even faster on the lips. I smile, my body heating all over again. I grind against him, and a deep noise escapes his throat.

He pulls back once and says, “Are
you
sure on lavender and cranberry?”

Those are the colors we chose for our fall wedding. I nod wildly, my eyes only on his lips. He tilts my chin up with two fingers, and I melt into his intense amber irises.

“Because I sent the maid of honor all the details, and she freaked when I changed the dinner menu yesterday.”

Rose doesn’t like messing with the set plan, but she’s been really relaxed as far as offering her opinion. She just suggests certain things. Like lisianthus as the flowers, a deep purple bouquet. I didn’t even know what that flower was, let alone how to pronounce it. She handed me a bundle of them a week ago, and I knew. It was perfect.

“No more changes,” I tell him. “I like everything we picked.” At first, we went formal with the reception menu: bite-sized entrees of lamb and scallops. Then we realized that we’re only inviting family, and we’d rather eat what we like. So everyone will be served five-star chicken, shrimp, and fish tacos, margaritas, and taquitos.

It’s like it was always meant to be this way, but it just took some time to reach this place.

Lo’s smile returns. “So do I.” He leans in to kiss me again, but his phone buzzes on the mattress. He frowns at the caller ID, lines creasing his forehead.

“Who is it?” I try to crane my neck and catch a peek.

“The hospital.” Oh. They must have his test results back. It’s only eight p.m., so it’s not too late for them to call. Lo licks his lips and then presses the cell to his ear. “Hello?”

His reaction is like an incoming wave. I know it’ll crash against me. I just wait and wait for it, wondering how strong the impact will be or if the tide will sweep us both. His lips downturn, and his chest stops falling as he holds his breath.

One of his hands stays on the small of my back, even as he says, “I understand. Thanks.” And then he clicks off the phone.

“And?” I ask. But I read his eyes as they rise to me, the sadness behind them. “You can’t donate.”

“My liver isn’t healthy enough. My dad was right.” He rests his head back and lets out a pained laugh. “My dad is going to die, and there’s nothing I can do.” I hug him and he hugs me just as tightly. I wish I could donate. I would, but I had my blood type tested. I’m not even close to being a match.

“I have to text Ryke,” Lo breathes.

“What are you going to say?” Clung together, I watch him use one hand to type a message.

It’s sweet, and tears begin to build with each word that he texts his brother.

Just got the news. I can’t donate. Please don’t feel obligated to do it. I love you no matter what.

He presses send. “There,” he whispers. “It’s over.” He holds me. “You and me and Maximoff, we’re going to make new beginnings.”

I add, “With no sad endings.”

His smile lights up his face. I love that it returned one more time. “No sad endings, love. Those aren’t meant for us.”

Good.
I’m ready for a happy one.

{ 61 }

LILY CALLOWAY

“Someone needs to spank him twenty-six times—
not
me,” I clarify quickly. “I’m not touching Ryke’s butt.” September 19
^th
marks his birthday. We’re all on the back patio, grilling barbecue, while Ryke grumpily slouches in an iron chair next to me.

He’s said four words all day. Two of them were “fuck” and the other two were “off.” He’s been sullen since Lo received the news from the hospital. A lot weighs on his mind.

“I’ll do it,” Lo offers. He threateningly waves a greasy spatula back and forth. “Turn around, bro.”

 Ryke shoots him the middle finger, unamused. Lo scowls at his brother and shakes his head. They’re both frustrated for different reasons.

The cool evening air chills my cheeks, the sun disappeared for the night. I adjust my white fuzzy Wampa cap on my head, and then I tug the flaps of a mini-Wampa cap over Maximoff’s ears. Rose sewed the
Star Wars
one for Moffy, and his cuteness has now broken all cute scales. He sleeps on my thighs, all bundled in a red Marvel blanket.

Rose has Jane snuggled against her chest, beneath a black fur coat, asleep too. Beside the grill, Connor sips wine, and I sometimes catch him observing his wife and daughter with this reverent smile, like he treasures this moment and them.

Daisy wags her brows. “I can spank Ryke later.” In one swift sentence, she deflects the attention off of Ryke’s moodiness. Since they’ve been together for a little under a year, the comment is not as awkward as it otherwise could be. She sits behind Ryke, on the table, running her fingers through his thick hair. He has one hand on her leg that drapes over his chest.

The only time he looks like he’s semi-enjoying himself is when Daisy distracts him. I’ve seen her lean over and he’ll grip the back of her neck for an upside-down kiss. Five minutes ago, I even tweeted a picture of that kiss (with Daisy’s approval) with the caption:
#Raisy is alive!

I’m forever waiting for it to trend.

Connor wears a million-dollar grin as he says, “If there’s not a bruise, you’re not hitting him hard enough.”

Lo feigns surprise. “You like bruises? Jesus Christ, love. I don’t even know you anymore.” And then he cocks his head at Rose. “What about you, Mrs. Cobalt? Did you know this?”

Rose’s yellow-green eyes pierce him, throwing a thousand daggers his way, and then she whips her head to
me.
I stay strong against the fire inside her gaze. “Tell Loren that I think his jokes are subpar and wouldn’t make a clown laugh.”

I recoil. No way am I stepping between their fight.

Lo spins to Connor and says, “Tell Rose her retorts make me feel sorry for her
and
that she has horrible taste in company names.”

Connor sips his wine, staring between his best friend and his wife like this is his evening entertainment.

I just don’t want it to escalate. That’s always my number one priority.

“I have
great
taste,” Rose refutes. If she wasn’t holding Jane, I think she’d spring to her feet by now. “And if you hadn’t noticed, you asked
me
to be a partner in a subdivision of Hale Co. I can still reject you.”

“We’re not calling the clothing line Blossom Babies,” Lo retorts. “It sounds like we’re dressing Cabbage Patch Dolls.”

They’ve been fighting on the name for the past week, and I’m still alarmed that they’ve agreed to work together at all.

“I’m not calling it Hale Co. Baby Clothes.
I’m
the designer.”

“You don’t even
like
babies,” Lo says.

“Then why are you asking for my help, Loren?”

Because he needs Rose. And she actually wants to be a part of this project. For the past week, Rose has sketched infant and toddler clothes, overly excited at the prospect of having a clothing line in a department store again.

He stares at her blankly and then says, “We’ll keep brainstorming.”

Rose sits even straighter like she won a spelling bee. Even though I love Lo dearly and I’m on Team Loren Hale, I am also Team Calloway Sisters and so my smile still exists.

It takes a lot for Ryke and Lo to smile, but I check on Ryke just to see if he’s cheered up a bit.

Wishful thinking, I suppose.

On my left, Ryke stares off into space, his gaze haunted and lips downturned. It’s his birthday, and he’s plagued by too many thoughts. I lean close and whisper, “Ryke.”

It takes him a second to register my voice. When he does, he slowly turns his head.

“Do you want to open presents?” I ask. Usually he tells everyone to buy him climbing gear, but this year, it’s like he forgot it was his birthday. He never mentioned rock climbing or the equipment he needed.

Lo and Connor even had a cardboard cutout of Ryke from his Ziff promotional campaign. Our publicists blamed Ryke’s puke-fest on food poisoning, so the sports drink could live to see the light of day. We were going to play “pin the harness” on Ryke but with his downcast mood, it seemed like a bad idea. I think Lo shoved the cardboard cutout in a closet.

“Maybe later,” Ryke says morosely.

Lo’s jaw tics. “Okay, I can’t take it anymore.” He passes Connor the spatula.

Then Lo faces his brother. Ryke stiffens in his chair, his brows hardening in confusion as he watches Lo. Lo…the guy who used to run away from bullies, who shouted insults until his throat burned, who always fell down in the end—he stands upright with magnetic confidence that pulls us all in.

“You’re not dying today,” Lo tells his brother, pointing adamantly at the ground. “We’re all alive
right now
, Ryke. Maybe in a year, Dad won’t be around, but it doesn’t mean we’ll stop moving. Out of everyone,
you
taught me that. Don’t look back. Just go forward, run through quicksand. So pick up your feet, man. For one, it’s your birthday. For another, no one likes to see you
this
pissy. It’s depressing.”

While Ryke mulls over these words, Lo searches for me, maybe for affirmation or just because. His amber eyes find mine in seconds. And his lips begin to rise.

We’ve been obliterated and we’ve come together whole for the first time. Our lives are meteor showers on rewind. I don’t think we even knew what we’d be once we pieced ourselves back.