Addicted to You (27 page)

“Who are you looking for?”

I jump, my spine hitting the wood slates with a
thunk.
Uh…I lean back and look up as he towers above me. They cannot be talking about
him.

Ryke, aka Green Arrow, has a hand on my table, a smug look plastered to his face. He must know I was trying to spy on him—but that was before I knew the hot mystery guy was the same one who carried my boyfriend into my apartment.

The athletic girls press their noses to their notebooks, taking pretty obvious glances at him. He follows my gaze and bridges the gap between our chairs, but turns his back on them. They shoot me the
worst
looks imaginable.

“I think your friends want you,” I tell him, staring at my textbook.

To appease me, he actually rotates. “Katie, Heather.”

Katie acts surprised. “Oh. Hey, Ryke! I didn’t notice you there.”

“You guys have practice today?”

“Yeah, conditioning. Will you be in the gym?”

Ah, yes, they know each other through athletics; it all makes sense now. Since I don’t necessarily belong to any group at Penn, especially one that involves bouncing balls or tumbling in the air, Ryke’s allure is quite lost on me. Maybe he dazzles them when he stretches his quads.

I glance at his calf muscles, sadly hidden beneath jeans.
I will not cheat on Lauren Hale, especially not with him.
I really need to stop thinking about other guys. It’s not as if Lo isn’t enough. He is, so far, but when there’s someone else lingering, my mind starts wandering to sinful places.

“I’m running outside today.”

“That’s too bad. Well, if you ever want to work out together, you know where we are.”

He nods and then shifts back towards me.
No. Go away.
He skirts around to the other side of the table, and for some reason, I think he may obey my mental order. Instead, he scrapes a chair and sits down. He leans in, setting his elbows on the wood.

And I lift up my textbook to block his view.

Seconds pass and he puts his hand on it, the spine thudding to the table. “I need to talk to you.”

“And I don’t want to talk to you.” I go to lift the book again as a blinder, but he slides it towards his body, taking my textbook hostage.

“I have to study,” I say in that screechy tone.

“Do you always whine?”

I glare. “Do you always insult people when you want something?” I wish Lo was here. He’d be able to shoo this guy away without a problem. Why don’t my words have the same effect?

“Only you,” he muses, flipping through my book and shutting it closed. “Biology? Are you a freshman or something?”

I blush. “I put off some of my core credits.” I reach out to snatch the book, but he jerks it away from me again.

“I’ll give this back to you after you hear me out.”

“Is it about alcohol?”

“No.”

“Is it about Lo?”

“Not entirely.”

“Are you going to be mean?”

He leans back, his chair creaking, and lets out a short laugh. “I don’t know. I could be depending on the direction of this conversation. How’s that?”

Good enough. “Fine.” I motion for him to continue and then cross my arms over my chest.

He catches the haughty movement and manages to stifle a smartass comment, cutting to the point. “When I was at your apartment, I saw your posters from Comic-Con. I’m a freelance writer for
The Philadelphia Chronicle
and they’re paying me to go to the convention. Thing is, I have no idea what to expect or what it entails or even what to do.”

I figure out the rest. “And you thought we may know?” I didn’t expect him to ask me
that.

“I was hoping I could talk with Lo about it.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “You want to talk to my boyfriend? About Comic-Con?” That’s not weird. “Is this really about comics, Ryke?”

“You think I’m lying?”

“Kind of, yeah.”

He rolls his eyes. “Look, I’m
a journalism
major. I’d rather talk to a primary source about Comic-Con than quote from Wikipedia and blogs.”

“I thought you said you needed help learning what Comic-Con entails, not a quote.” Ha! I caught him in his lie.

Ryke doesn’t even flinch. “That too.” He rubs his lips in thought. “Look, maybe I can at least borrow some of his comics and he can give me some highlights of characters and conflicts.”

I stare at him, still skeptical. “You said this wasn’t about Lo’s problem, right?”

“You mean his alcohol addiction.”

I glower. He’s pushing it. I go to stand up and leave. Screw the bio book—he can have it. Ryke quickly extends his hands to stop me.

“I’m sorry. I can be insensitive sometimes.”

I stay in my seat, waiting.

“This isn’t about alcohol.”

“Do you have a crush on him or something?”

Ryke jerks back in surprise and cringes. “What? Why the hell would you think that?”

“I don’t know,” I feign confusion. “You keep asking about
his
comics.
His
advice about Comic-Con. You do realize, I have comics too and
I
went to Comic-Con with him.”

He groans. “Why do you have to make this so difficult? I’m asking for help. From you, from Lo, from whomever knows the difference between whatever costume you were wearing and Wolverine.”

“There are a lot of other people that can help you.” I will continue to distrust Ryke. Literally, his responses grate on every nerve in my body. It’s impossible to be attracted to someone that shrivels my insides.

“I don’t want their help. I want yours.”

Before I make sense of that, my phone buzzes on the table. Ryke glances at the name in the text box. “Lo,” he says. “Maybe you can ask him if it’s okay.”

“He will say no,” I shoot back.

“You don’t know that.”

“
You
don’t know Lo,” I retort and click into the text.

Can I watch porn with you tonight? You clock more time with your remote than me. Jealous. – Lo

I clutch my phone to my chest, hoping Ryke didn’t catch a peek. My elbows blush anyway.

“You’re turning red.”

“It’s hot in here,” I mumble and clear my throat. “I don’t know what more to tell you.”

“Say ‘yes, Ryke, I’ll help you this one time since I stopped Matt from beating the shit out of my boyfriend.’”

My eyes narrow. “How long are you going to hold that over my head?”

“Forever.”

I sigh heavily, realizing this is not going to end like I want it to. “Lo may yell at you. He may call you rude names until you leave.”

Ryke lets out another short laugh. “Yeah, I think I can handle him.” He tilts his head. “Do you think he can handle me?”

“You do realize that sounds sexual,” I blurt, my eyes widening in regret. Why did I just say that?!

“And maybe you have a perverted mind.”

I can’t argue with that, but I have officially roasted into a new shade of red. To ignore my embarrassment, I go back to the issue at hand. “You’re not allowed to mention alcohol. If you do, you’re gone.”

He nods. “Fair enough.”

Maybe Lo will find a way to deter Ryke. If anyone can skillfully kick someone out of our apartment, it’s him.

I scroll through the calendar in my phone. “What day were you thinking?”

He stands and stuffs
my
biology book into
his
backpack. “Right now.”

I gape. “I’m
studying
, Ryke.”

“Really. That’s what you were doing?” He rubs his jaw. “I could have sworn you were people-watching and eating the end of your pencil.”

I glare. “You’ve been spying on me?”

He slings his backpack over his shoulder. “I was observing you. Don’t get so pissy about it. I just needed to make sure you were in a good enough
mood
to hear my request.” He nods to the exit. “Shall we?”

I stand up in a huff, gathering my notebooks and shoving them into my backpack. “I don’t understand why we have to do this right now.”

He scoots his chair into the table. “Because, Lily Calloway, you seem like the type of girl who will
never
return my calls.” He motions for me to follow with his fingers, as though I’m a pet dog. “Let’s go.”

I inhale a strained breath, silently throwing darts into Ryke Meadows’ face. His self-confident swagger rubs me wrong. In fact, I’d rather not be rubbed by him at all. At least Lo will know what to do with him.
That,
I hold onto.

We agree to meet in the lobby of the Drake since we drove in two separate cars. When I walk in, I’m not surprised to see him waiting by the golden elevators. My bio book rests under his arm, and for the first time I allow myself a good look at Ryke. Without his Green Arrow costume, he appears slightly older, especially with a stubbly jaw and tanned skin. Underneath his white track shirt, I’m sure lies very toned and very lean muscles. He has a face that could force girls to their knees, but so does Lo.

I can’t imagine the two of them squaring off. Ice v. Stone. Sharpness v. Hardness. Cold v. Hot. They’re different, yet somehow, they’re still alike.

Ryke presses the button when he sees me approach. “You look like you’re going to vomit.”

“I’m not,” I mumble a stupid reply, thankful that the elevator doors burst open and slice the awkwardness. I slide in and hit the top floor. When they close, Ryke spins around and faces me, positioning himself in front of the doors, as though hoping I won’t bolt the second they break apart.

“I lied,” he starts.

My jaw unhinges. “Wha…” This was a bad idea.

“I’m not actually going to Comic-Con—”

“I knew it!” I should have listened to my gut. “Get out.”

He tilts his head with a frown at my asinine order. “We’re on a fucking elevator. In fact…” He presses the emergency stop, and it rumbles to a halt. Oh my God. He’s going to murder me! I spring to the buttons to restart the elevator, but he shields my passage by extending his arms and then lightly pushing me back.

“Let me out!”

“I need you to listen to me,” Ryke starts. “I am
a journalism
major. I do write for
The Philadelphia Chronicle.
But I have no intention of going to Comic-Con.”

“Then why—”

“Because I want to help your boyfriend, and I needed you to get me at least this far so I could explain the rest.”

My defensive barriers start rising tenfold. “We don’t need your help! I can take care of him.” I point to my chest. “
I’ve
taken care of him my whole life.”

“Yeah?” Ryke’s eyes narrow heatedly. “How many times have you watched him pass out? Tossing a few aspirins isn’t helping him, Lily. He has a fucking problem.”

My cheeks burn, and I take in his words very carefully. It hurts to see Lo drink so excessively. It hurts to watch him depend on one drink after the next, and I constantly fear the day where it becomes too much. But I always bury those worries with carnal pleasures and a natural high. My voice softens. “Why do you want to fix him so badly?”

Ryke stares at me with more empathy than I thought he was capable of. “My father is an alcoholic, and I don’t want Lo to turn out like him. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

I ask a question that has been plaguing me for some time. “How can you know Lo’s an alcoholic? You don’t know him. You’ve seen him once on his twenty-first birthday, and he was passed out more than he was awake.”

Ryke shrugs. “I can just tell, especially with the way you became possessive over his flask. He’d be truly pissed if someone wasted his expensive alcohol, wouldn’t he?”

He would. I bite my nails. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”

Ryke edges forward. “Let me try to help him.”

I shake my head. “Lo won’t let you.”

“I figured as much, and that’s why I can start by hanging around you guys, getting to know him.”

The pieces start adding together. “Comic-Con. You want to keep up the lie to grow closer to Lo so you can try to influence him. You want
me
to lie?” I’m not sure this will work. We’ve already allowed Connor into our lives; another person may unsettle an already off-kilter balance.

“Yeah,” Ryke says. “I want you to lie to your boyfriend so that he has a chance to get better. You think you can do that, Lily? Or are you going to be selfish and let him continue this destructive path? One day, he may never wake up. One day, his body may shut down. And you’re going to think back to this moment and wonder why you didn’t agree to this proposition—why you didn’t try something
else
to help your boyfriend.”

I stumble back, punched in the gut. “I don’t want him to die,” I murmur.

“Then do something about it.”

I nod out of impulse, but I haven’t processed what this means in the long run. That I’ll have to lie to Lo. Can I do it? My brows scrunch in thought. I think I can. Lo has more to lose if I don’t try. Surviving another debacle like Halloween sounds less and less likely, and I struggle to help Lo because of our relationship and
my
vice. No second party has ever offered aid before. And if Lo was given the same deal to help me, would he take it?

I know he would.

I look back up at Ryke. “I still don’t like you.”

“I’m not very fond of you either,” he admits and hands me my bio book.

“What did I do to you?” I frown. Why doesn’t he like me?

He presses a button and the elevator groans to a start. We rise. “You’re too skinny. You whine too much. And you enable an alcoholic.”

I purse my lips. “I’m already regretting this.” But I’ll suffer through Ryke’s mean comments if it gives Lo a chance to get better.

“I warned you that I’m not easy to get rid of.”

I thought he was exaggerating. The elevator doors slide open, and I lead him to my apartment even though he knows the way. The thought is as unsettling as the looming situation. The last time he was here, Lo had been unconscious to the world. Moments ago, I hoped Lo would find a way to kick him out, now I have to defend Ryke, who has proved to be an annoying force in my life.

I unlock the door and toss my jangling keys in the basket.

Lo calls to me from the bedroom. “Lil, we’re going to watch
Blow Hard
, and I’m going to fuck you better than…” He trails off to read the label on the back of the DVD while my eyes bug, not willing a peek at Ryke by my side. “...a group of pierced thugs. Huh…”