Kiss the Sky (7 page)

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Authors: Krista Ritchie,Becca Ritchie

BOOK: Kiss the Sky
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“Girls can
jill
off,” Lily says.

“What?” Daisy and I say in unison.

“You know…” Lily turns bright red again, only her flush
looks like an allergic reaction. Red splotches her arms and neck. Her eyes flit
to the camera and then back to us. “Jack and Jill went up the hill. Guys can
jack off. Girls can
jill
off.”

Daisy cracks up laughing, hitting her leg with each
full-bellied sound. “Holy shit…That’s awesome.”

I smile too. I love my sisters for so many different
reasons.

I slide a piece of pizza out of the box with a napkin.
“You’re sixteen,” I say to Daisy. “Men shouldn’t be thinking about screwing you
while they look at your photos. They should know better.”

“I’ll be seventeen in a month,” she says. “And it probably
happened to Brooke Shields, so…” She shrugs like that makes it okay. It
doesn’t. No one likes that they’re calling Daisy a sex symbol in the media just
because Lily is a sex addict. Daisy was only a high fashion model before all
the publicity, in background shots, a few small campaigns. Nothing big. Now
she’s a supermodel, posing more suggestively, wearing less and less clothes.

I don’t even want to think about what will happen when she
turns eighteen.

When she can legally pose nude.

I wish she would care more, but she entered the modeling
industry at such a young age that I’m not sure she’ll ever see her body as
something other than an object to the male gaze.

“Girls!” Scott calls. “We only have the psychic for another
half hour. You need to come back.”

We shuffle out of the kitchen and into the living room,
pizza and drinks in hand. I pass Connor the plate he requested and sit beside
him, which happens to
also
be next to
Scott. I’d kick Scott somewhere else but I don’t want to put him next to Lily
(a sex addict with a stable boyfriend) or Daisy (a sixteen-year-old high
fashion model with impulse issues). Seriously, my little sister dove off a
forty-foot cliff in Mexico.

I wish I was exaggerating.

Lily slumps beside Loren on the loveseat, and he pulls her a
lot closer so her legs are over his lap, splayed across him. She leans into his
chest as she picks the pepperoni off her pizza.

“Do me next,” Daisy says with a roguish grin, plopping on
the floor. She leans against the legs of
Ryke’s
chair
and holds out her hand to Madame Charmaine. The psychic’s peppered hair is so
thick and frizzy, like she brushed her curls. Sun spots even mar her skin.

Ryke
has kicked up his feet on
my
cedar coffee table that was
transported from the Princeton house.
At
least there’s that ugly purple tablecloth on top.

But I can’t restrain myself from saying something. “
Ryke
, I can see the mud on your boots.”

 
His brows rise and he
runs a hand through his brown hair. His features are harder and more brooding
than Loren’s, but he has the same lean and muscular build. Not bulky but
incredibly fit. He nods to his brother. “Please tell me this isn’t a regular
fucking thing with her.”

“Oh yeah.” Loren steals the pepperoni off Lily’s plate and
pops one in his mouth. “Don’t leave the toilet seat up unless you want a ten
minute lecture.”

“It’s called respect,” I retort.

Lily raises her hand. “I agree with Rose.”

Ha! Take that, Loren.

But he ignores me and playfully bites Lily’s neck. Her face
lights up in a giddy smile.

My achievement is popped in an instant. I just feel…strange
at being thwarted by Lily and
Lo’s
constant
blinding
love. Instead of being agitated
by their in-the-face groping, I’m a little more aware of what I have. I turn to
Connor, and for some reason, I can tell he’s been watching me, studying me,
understanding everything. I trace his features: the smoothness of his
unblemished skin, the waviness of his brown hair, and the curve of his muscles
in his arms and chest, beneath a sophisticated button-down and behind those
all-knowing blue eyes.

He is power and perfection in so many ways that I will never
admit aloud. His head would be humongous by the fact. But when I was younger, I
often thought about what it would be like to be with him, physically.

I was sixteen when I first pictured Connor inside of me, and
the most contact I had with him was verbally fighting at Model UN Conferences.
Literally, we’d stand in the hallways of a fancy hotel and argue about Epicurus
and his philosophy on intangible things like love, happiness and God. Once
Connor went off on a tangent in
French
,
I tried to keep up. I vowed to be better than him. And so I studied harder. I opened
more books. I made sure I was fluent enough to understand him and then more—to
stump him. I never did, but I also never fell behind.

I am smart only because I spent hours reading. Connor is
smart because he’s naturally gifted, but he does study harder than even the
average person. I envy him—that he can carry all of these talents and never be
weighed down by setbacks and hardships. He just keeps moving forward.

He makes me believe that anything is possible. I don’t think
I’ll ever find someone quite like Connor Cobalt.

He places a hand on my neck and his thumb rubs a sensitive
place that sends chills down my spine.

I’m glad to have him, even if I was fine with being alone
and single beforehand. How we came to this place still feels like a cosmic alignment.
Out of the blue, I learned he was Lily’s economics tutor at the University of
Pennsylvania. It wasn’t a ruse to get closer to me. He had no idea she was my
sister at first, and Lily chose him at random. At the time, Connor and I only
saw each other once a year when Princeton and Penn competed in a Quiz Bowl
Tournament, and this was a chance for him to meet me more often. For us to
reunite.

And Connor’s never been one to squander an opportunity.

So when he saw me at Lily’s old apartment, he asked me on a
date. I said yes because he was challenging me to step out of my comfort zone,
as he’s done all these years. I wonder if having sex will be the day where
everything ends, where our journey of losing and finding each other will
finally come to a close.
 

I turn back to
Ryke
who has
not
moved his boots. I make sure that he
meets my glare.

He holds up his hands in surrender. “Look, if we’re going to
live together then we need to establish some fucking rules.”

Madame Charmaine cuts into our discussion. “You’re single
now but you will find someone very soon,” she tells Daisy.

“Well that’s not right,” Daisy says, the cameras rotating to
her. “I already have a boyfriend.”

Ryke’s
boots finally fall to the
floor. “Since when?”

“Since last week.”

Madame Charmaine holds up a finger. “Aha!” she exclaims. “
Soon.
Very soon.”

“So soon that the events have already happened,” Connor
says. “Are we changing the definition of precognition today? Shall I call
Merriam-Webster?”

Lo breaks into a grin. “You’re nasty today, Connor.”

“I have a limit on bullshit. Magic tips the scale.”

“It’s not magic,” Madame Charmaine rebuts with ease. “I have
the
sight.

Connor pauses. “…like I was saying.”

“Why haven’t any of us met your boyfriend?” I ask Daisy,
trying to steer this to a better direction, one that doesn’t make Connor look
like a bigger prick than he really is. But I have a feeling Scott will edit him
in the worst light no matter what.

Before she answers,
Ryke
whispers
in her ear, and they both suddenly stand at the same time. We’re all on edge
until
Ryke
sits on the floor, taking her spot, and
she settles in his chair, her legs crossed underneath her.

Ryke
has his nice moments. I’ll
admit that.

“Daisy,” I say. “Did you hear me?”

“Yeah…um.” She swats her hair out of her face. “He’s not
really the meet-and-greet kind of boyfriend.”

“So basically you’re just fucking him,”
Ryke
blurts out.

Oh look, his nice moment just passed.

At least, I can forecast that he won’t make a move on Daisy
because of her age. I think he’s more likely to run into traffic than hook up
with her.
 

“Not in front of the cameras,” Connor advises.

Ryke
shoots him the middle finger
with an added glare.

I can feel Connor’s chest rising in irritation. “I don’t
know why I care,” Connor says. “It’s not like anyone will understand you
anyway. You curse every other word. They’re going to literally bleep you out of
the show.”

“And that’d make you so fucking happy.”

“I’d be happier if I could tie you up to the front porch and
leave you there. I’d even be kind enough to toss you a steak bone to gnaw on.”

Lo can’t stop laughing.

Ryke’s
eyes darken at his brother.
“Where’s the fucking loyalty?”

His laughter dies down and his lips fall. “Did you hear what
you said to Daisy? Honestly, how about
never
bringing up her sex life. And then
maybe
I’ll consider siding with you
.

 
“You guys.” Daisy
waves her hand to regain focus. “I’m not screwing my boyfriend. I just don’t
want any of you to meet him. He’s kind of dumb.”

Ryke’s
jaw hardens. “He’s dumb?
Then why the fuck are you with him?”

Daisy shrugs and avoids his dark eyes. “He’s nice.”

Scott suddenly scoots closer to me, his hip pressing against
mine. I want to edge towards Connor, but I
don’t
want to look frightened of Scott. So I stand my ground and feel his warm breath
on my ear.

“You should go next. See what your future holds.”

I bristle at the thought of being told something like
“someone you love will die soon” or “you’ll marry a stupid man.” Connor may not
take stock in psychics, but a part of me will always be a little superstitious.

“Madame,” Scott calls before I can stop him. “Rose would
like to go next.”

“And then you?” Connor asks. “We’d all love to know when
you’ll die.”

The muscles in Scott’s jaw twitch.
 

Madame Charmaine sidles over to our couch and kneels in
front of me. She snatches my hand and scans the lines on my palm wildly. “
Mmm
.”

I don’t like
mms.
They
sound like unintelligible baby muttering, which is the equivalent of sticking a
sharp needle in my ear.

“I think…that I will have a better reading with cards.” She
pulls the shuffled deck from her pocket. “Split this in half. Do not flip them
over.”

I do as she says, randomly picking from the pile, purple
crescent moons printed on the back of each card.

She returns to her ottoman beside the coffee table and
starts flipping the cards right side up. I can’t see any of the designs, but I
think I spot a white unicorn on one, which has Connor rolling his eyes.

Even so, he intertwines his fingers in mine and kisses my
knuckles, as though I need extra reassurance before she exposes my future.

She overturns the last card. “I see,” she says and nods.
“You’re very fertile. I sense two strong male spirits in your life, possibly
twin boys in the future.” She has to be joking.

A crying baby—that’s a personal circle of hell for me. When
my eldest sister, Poppy, had her child, I didn’t acknowledge my niece until she
could form intelligible sentences. I have nothing in common with kids. And no
one needs to tell me I would make a horrible mother. I know it’s true. Which is
why I plan to
never
have children.

“Take it back,” I snap.

“I can’t return a reading.”

“It’s not a purse, Rose,” Connor chimes in, his lips rising.
“It’s your future.” His amusement is palpable.

I point a finger at him. “Shut. Up.”

Connor grabs my hand and says, “I won’t believe in it if you
won’t.”

He doesn’t seem that upset by my declaration (technically
I’ve voiced my baby-disdain before so it shouldn’t come as a surprise) but I
strangely ache for a true answer. For his honesty. I know he’s not going to
share it now, not when the cameras are rolling and with Scott sitting right
beside me.
 

“Deal,” I say.
 

The psychic clicks her tongue. “I think I’m picking up
someone else’s energy. It’s very black, very dark, not good at all.”

“Definitely Connor,” Loren says with a wink.

Connor actually cracks a smile, and as far as I can tell,
it’s genuine.

“No,” Madame Charmaine says. “It’s from her.” She stares
right at Lily.
No, no, no
.

“You’re going to be married soon, are you not?”

Lily slides lower on the loveseat, uncomfortable with the
attention, especially as Brett and Ben direct both of their lenses at her.
“Yes,” she says in a small, feeble voice. Lo sets their paper plates on the
coffee table.

“All right,” Connor says, standing and nearing the psychic.
“I think that’s enough magic for one night.” He puts a hand on Madame
Charmaine’s elbow, and she rises with the pressure. “It was really nice to meet
someone who’s dabbled in the dramatic arts, but I think it’s time for you to
go.”

Loren mouths,
thank
you
, to Connor, and then he rubs Lily’s back.

But Scott has to ruin it as he stands. “I’m in charge of
production, Connor. I say when these events end.” He looks to the clock. “And
we have ten more minutes.”

On cue, Madame Charmaine directs her next question to Lily.
“This wedding, you don’t want to go through with it, do you?”

“What?” Lily’s eyes grow wide. “No…” She looks to Loren. “I
mean, yes. Yes, I do want it. Why wouldn’t I?” She glances at the camera in
alarm. “I…I love Lo so much. He’s my best friend…”

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