Addicted for Now (22 page)

But now, how do I explain
this
.

“What?” Ryke growls in defense at me. “I’m trying to get us
out of this fucking situation.” He locks eyes with Daisy again and steps
forward to try to reach her. I put my hand on his chest to stop him, and then I
quickly turn to Daisy.

“Give me the rest of your money.”

“I don’t—”

“Now.” I can’t even hear my own voice or how mean it sounds.
All I hear is my half-brother offering to feel up my girlfriend’s little
sister. I don’t even fucking care if it was a joke or sarcasm or fucking
anything. I think I’m going to kill him later.

 
Daisy’s smile
instantly vanishes and she reaches into her bikini top again. I look at the
sand, the sky, anywhere but her breasts until she places the money in my hand.
I grab the rest of her cash from Ryke and start counting out two-hundred-and-sixty
pesos.

“I was just trying to have fun,” she says softly, her voice
layered with guilt. “I’m sorry.”

She’s apologized, and I know I should drop it. But I’m
fuming. “There are other ways to have fun.” I hand Ernesto the money. Both guys
nod in thanks and they walk off towards the resort near the string of straw
huts and white cabanas. I look back to Daisy, and my nerves haven’t settled
yet. “You’re the fucking daughter of a multi-billion dollar mogul. Bartering
with a man that makes a thousand times less than you is the equivalent of
stealing.”

 
Her eyes go big and
round and a little glassy, and it hurts to know that I’m causing her distress.
The pain in my chest only intensifies because I can’t stop speaking. I don’t
know how. “Next time rent a fucking jet ski.”

“I just wanted to do something normal.”

“You’re not normal. None of us are.”

“Lo,” Ryke says, his tone warning. But his voice sends
razorblades down my back.

“Don’t you even fucking speak to me,” I snap. I hate him right
now. I hate me, most of all. I hate that I just bitched out Daisy, who didn’t
really do anything wrong. At least, nothing that warranted my harsh words. The
remorse tastes like acid, and I usually drown it with whiskey.

My next breath comes out ragged and Ryke focuses on me for a
long moment. But when Daisy inhales strongly, staring at the sand with tears
brimming, trying to bottle her emotions, he turns his gaze on her. I watch his
face change. If he was concerned for me, I don’t even know what to call the
expression he has for her.

What the hell did I miss when I was in rehab?

“I have to get out of here.” I cringe when I realize I said it
out loud. I start walking.

Ryke awakens and follows me. “Where the fuck are you going?”

His anger fuels me and I stop suddenly. He nearly knocks
into my chest. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I hiss. “She’s sixteen.” I
see Daisy in my peripheral, standing off to the side, looking on but not
wanting to interrupt.

“I’m not doing anything,” Ryke refutes.

My forehead hurts from frowning so hard. He can’t be
serious, but I think he believes he is. That’s fucking terrifying. “Don’t be
stupid.”

Ryke sets his hands on his head for a second. I’ve never
seen him unravel, and I can tell he’s trying hard not to. “I’m blunt and
abrasive,” he says. But he knows that’s not the answer I want to hear. “I can’t
turn that off.”

“You’re going to turn it off around her,” I sneer. “And you
know what, I invited you to Cancun, and I can uninvite you.”

“Are you uninviting me?”

“No, but I don’t want to talk to you or be around you right
now.”

He grabs my arm before I turn around. “Wait.”

“What? You’re going to blame everything on the fact that
you’re blunt? When Connor wants to be, he’s just as honest as you, and he would
never say the things you do.”

“Because I’m a fucking asshole,” Ryke says.

“That’s not good enough.”

Ryke’s nostrils flare and he points to his chest. “I was
raised by a single mother, Lo—”

“So was Connor,” I retort. I give Ryke such a hard time. I
make him hurdle the highest walls, and he’s taken each test without complaint,
but I can tell this one is tearing him inside. And a little part of me likes
that he’s finally breaking down. The other part hates that I take pleasure in
someone else’s pain.

“Stop comparing me to him,” Ryke sneers. “His mother was the
head of a corporation. My mother sat around all day and plotted ways to fuck
over my father. I spent years being torn between the two of them, having to
choose sides, and I chose her.” He points at his chest again, his eyes blazing
with heat. “I was made to believe that she was a saint and he was the sinner,
when they’re both guilty of things that I can barely even stomach. Do you know
what that’s like—to defend someone so vehemently out of love and then realize
they were no more innocent than the man you hated? It fucking sucks.”

My chest is so tight that each breath takes force.

Ryke steps forward. “I
love
women and care about them more than you even fucking realize, Lo. But I saw
my mother turn callous from that divorce. I say things that I shouldn’t because
I stopped giving a fuck what people thought of me. I stopped trying to play the
doting son—the role that
that
girl is
going through right now. And it’s fucking killing me to watch it happen.”

I’m assaulted with so many emotions that I almost can’t see
straight. I just keep nodding, trying to understand his point of view, trying
to get it. “I need some space…”
to think.

“I can’t leave you alone like this.” Ryke breathes heavily,
and he hesitates to put a hand on my shoulder. If he sets one finger on my
body, I’m going to jerk away. I’m so full of hate, resentment, and blackness—everything
that normally sends me right to a bar.

 
“I’ll go back to the
room with Daisy,” I say. “You go find Melissa. You know, that girl that you
came here with.” I don’t want to butcher him anymore, but it’s so easy to cut
people, especially my brother.

Ryke takes the hit, not moving one inch. “You almost made
Daisy cry. You really want to spend time alone with her?”

“It’ll give me a chance to apologize,” I say. “Either you
take that scenario or I’m walking out of here on my own.” My hands shake, and I
clench them into fists. Ryke would never leave me alone right now. I want to
relax. To sit at a bar and just float away.

Ryke motions to Daisy, and she jogs over. When she stops by
his side, he says, “Don’t let him drink.”

“Okay.”

He hesitates before heading farther down the beach. We walk
towards the resort in a heavy silence that weighs on my chest.

“I’m sorry,” I end up muttering while we wait for the
elevator.

“No, don’t be,” Daisy says. “You were right. What I did—it
was wrong. Sometimes I just forget about money. I’m going to try to be better
about it.”

“Yeah, but I do it at times too. And I’m not your dad. I
shouldn’t be lecturing you.” Or anyone.

She smiles. “It’s nice to know you care.”

We stop on our floor and she walks in front of me, leaving
me to think about that.

I do care. Is that because I’m sober or is it just because
things have changed? I wish I knew.

Daisy waits by the door, and she suddenly pales with worry.
“Are you going to tell Lily?”

She’ll ask me what’s wrong as soon as I get inside. We’ve
been around each other enough to pick up body language, and mine says I’m
losing my shit. I hadn’t intended on lying to her. “Yeah,” I say, “but I don’t
think she’ll be mad.”

“Really? Because I don’t think I’ve ever seen Lily in beast
mode, like Rose’s eternal setting, and I’ve always been kind of scared to see
that.”

I smile as I try to recall an angry Lily. She does kind of
look like a little monster, but I find it more adorable than frightening.
“You’ll be fine.”

I don’t know if Daisy thinks I’m actually this upset just
because of the bartering, or if she realizes I caught onto her flirting with
Ryke, both at fault, I believe. But I will never have that conversation with
her. Lily can handle her sister, and I’ll handle my brother.

Daisy lets out a breath of relief before edging out of the way.
I slide in the keycard, and we enter the room.

Rose refolds clothes on the nearest bed while Connor
organizes various bags that surround the room. Between what Daisy brought and
now what Rose purchased, I think we’ve officially clothed seven people for the
week.

“How was the run?” Connor asks.

“Hot,” Daisy says.

I scan the room for Lily, unable to find her, and then I
look through the glass door to the patio. She’s curled up on a chair, her legs
to her chest, watching the birds or something.

I move towards the door, and Connor suddenly blocks my exit like
he wants to have a conversation. All I really want to do is talk to Lily. I
need to know if she knew about Ryke and Daisy’s... Jesus, I don’t even know
what to call it.

“What?” I snap.

Daisy focuses on us, filled with curiosity, and this causes
Rose to pat her mattress. “Daisy, come help me fold,” she insists.

Daisy answers her sister’s call—reminding me of what Ryke
said about her. And I cringe a little, not wanting Daisy to be affected by her mother.
All these girls have complexes, and I can see how most people would get one
just from the freedom of our lifestyle and the pressure to maintain it. I feel
like we’re all a little fucked up in our own right.

Connor leads me to the furthest wall from the girls. And I
instantly understand what’s going on. He’s moving me away from Daisy so she
can’t hear. Whatever Connor wants to tell me—it’s about Lily.

The worst thought crosses my mind.

She cheated.

She slept with some cashier at Bloomingdales.

She fucked another guy.

I feel the color drain from my face.

I feel my stomach roll in on itself.

My world slowly begins crashing down. I should have been
with her. I try to move past Connor and reach the patio, wanting to talk to
her, wanting to make this right, wanting to be alone again.

Connor steps in front of me once more and puts his hand on
my shoulder. He reads the panic on my face, and says, “Nothing happened, not
like that.” I don’t know Connor well enough to know what
that
entails and this just heightens my nerves.

“What
did
happen?”
I ask quietly.

He stays resolute, calm, and for some strange reason it
feeds into me. His casual attitude makes me believe it’s not that bad, and I
wonder if this is a Connor Cobalt gift. To pacify people with his demeanor
rather than words.

“Look,” he says easily, “Rose didn’t want to tell you, but I
convinced her, I think.” He lets himself smile at the accomplishment. “She
wants Lily to handle these things on her own. In a feminist’s perspective, I
guess it seems like when you help Lily, you don’t give her a chance to be
strong on her own.”

It feels like he knifed me, even though those are Rose’s
words. “I’m not her fucking cure, I know that,” I say, trying to mimic Connor’s
easy tone, but my voice comes out strained and edged. I’ve let Lily succeed on her
own, but I am the person having sex with her. All I can do is tell her to stop,
to guide her. She’s the one actively making the choice to ask me to have sex,
to want to have sex, to give into cravings enough to let them control her
thoughts. That’s on her.

“I know, and Lily will never be completely on her own.
That’s what I told Rose. You’re sleeping with her, and sex addiction is a
two-person recovery process. She sided with me on this one.” I think he keeps gloating
to postpone the news.

“Connor. Just tell me.”

He nods. “I noticed that Lily can sometimes zone out,” he
says, “and I actually thought she was just a little slow. But then I found out
she was a sex addict, and I know fantasizing can be a huge issue with the
addiction.”

I know where this is headed, and I shouldn’t be relieved.
But a pressure lifts off my chest. “And?”

“And it was fine. She zoned out a couple times and Rose
would reengage her with conversations. Then Rose had to try on practically every
pair of heel in her size, and we both forgot about Lily…until we heard her.”

What? She wouldn’t masturbate in public. That’s beyond what
she’s ever done. My chest starts to hurt again. “Heard her? Was she
masturbating?”

“No,” Connor says quickly. “No. Not at all.”

Good.

“But we heard her orgasm.”

What? “I don’t understand. How is that possible?”

“There have been numerous studies about the female orgasm. It’s
not fully understood, but many scientists have shown that it can be brought on
by thought alone.”

She fantasized and had an orgasm. Out loud. In a fucking
store. I know how embarrassed she must feel and it floods me, seizing my
ability to even form words right now.

Connor takes my silence as an opportunity to keep speaking.
“Rose made her call her therapist.”

I nod, but my feet are glued to the floor. I want to go
outside and be with her, but Rose’s words…or Connor’s reiteration of them haunt
me. I want Lily to be strong on her own. I can see her through the blinds,
hiding in her body, and it doesn’t seem like she’s looking at the birds
anymore.

She’s looking for a way out.

I turn to Connor, suddenly so relieved that he’s here. That
I have someone that I can ask this, “Should I go out there?” I want someone to
tell me what’s right. To put me on the correct path. I don’t want to keep
making bad decisions.

“She needs you,” he tells me in a single breath. “Just don’t
have sex with her. Easy enough, right?”

“Yeah, it’d probably be difficult on that chair,” I say,
trying to smile, trying to lessen how much I empathize with her hurt.

“Not for you two.” He taps my shoulder, unfreezing me from
my state and I find myself moving onward. Towards the door. Towards her.