Addicted for Now (24 page)

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LOREN HALE

Four days of pool and beach have left me a little
sunburned, tan, and tired. Lily and I have succeeded in separating Ryke and
Daisy for the majority of the trip, at least enough where they haven’t had any
opportunity to really talk.

Tonight we’re all eating at an authentic Mexican restaurant
in the city. Chips and dip overflow the table, and the noise gathers by a
stage, which sits close to the bar. I draw back at Daisy’s threat to make us
all do karaoke later tonight. Not going to happen, even if the youngest
Calloway girl can be highly persuasive. She seems to bat lashes, give us those
big green puppy-dog eyes and everyone falls under her spell. The frightening
part, I think she knows she has this power too.

If I was Greg Calloway, I’d have her ass on the next flight
home. But I know her father: a workaholic who pours his time in business, who
believes love equates to money and the luxury he can provide his family. I’ve
watched Lily accept that kind of love and move on, as I’ve done in a sense. My
father wasn’t always around. You don’t achieve this lifestyle without
sacrificing something.

I ask Daisy what her mother thinks of her being in Cancun. Lily
confirmed that she has permission, but I’d like to hear it from Daisy’s
mouth.
 

She hasn’t touched a single chip. Her hands busy themselves
with folding a paper napkin into a flower. The one downside to separating Daisy
and Ryke, she seems less inclined to take bites of food without pressure from
him. His persistence is useful sometimes. And I’ve tried to do the same “eat
this” bit, but she gives me a look like I’m crazy for suggesting an avocado,
and then she dodges me with word games that spin my head. Ryke can keep up. I
can’t. My lingo is clearly meant for sex addicts, not adrenaline junkies.

“Well, you know…” Daisy starts and trails off as if I didn’t
ask a question. She looks around and taps a waiter on the back. “Hey, can we
get a margarita pitcher?”

He stares at her blankly, and with Ryke in the bathroom,
Connor takes the lead and translates for her. Apparently, I’m the only guy who
slept in Spanish class.

“Daisy,” I say. “You didn’t answer the question.”

We sit at a circular table, so it doesn’t take much strain
for Daisy to turn back to me. “Oh, sorry, what was it?” she asks innocently.

“Samantha, your mother,” I say dryly, already knowing where
this is headed. “She doesn’t mind you being out here all week?” Samantha’s ways
have always eluded me. She digs her nails into Poppy’s daughter, Rose’s fashion
line and Daisy’s modeling career but leaves Lily alone. It’s strange and something
I couldn’t quite comprehend before rehab. Being around them, I’m starting to
understand it even more.

Daisy is about to answer when Ryke and Melissa return from
the restroom. No shame on their faces. Way less guilty than Lily and I ever
were when we screwed during a meal. Melissa plops into her chair and grabs a
napkin, wiping her lips.

Daisy sits between her sisters, and she basically stares
straight at Melissa and Ryke across the circular table. I try to read her
expression, but she stays guarded and nudges her rice with her fork.

Ryke motions to the suddenly silent table as he takes a seat
beside me. “Don’t let us interrupt you,” he snaps. His eyes land on Daisy, who
stares blankly at her rice, very interested in a pea that she unburies. It’s
the first time Ryke has shown interest in Melissa with Daisy present. Usually
Melissa just hangs all over him.

“Daisy,” I say, urging her again to answer the question. My
arm slides around Lily’s shoulders beside me, and she surprisingly keeps her
hands to herself. Normally she’d have me unzipped by now. Yes, even at a
restaurant. Her restraint is admirable, but I can’t deny that a horrible
(mostly horny) part of me wishes for it.

Daisy blinks a couple times. “Right. And no, my mom doesn’t
mind. She was really happy that I could have a whole week to bond with my
sisters. I just have to abide by my normal rules.” She shrugs at the last bit
and claps her hands. “Should we start karaoke early?” She begins to rise from
her chair, but both Lily and Rose put their hands on the frame to stop her.
Rose pushes her back in.

“What are we talking about? What rules?” Melissa asks. She
reaches into the basket of chips.

Lily cringes beside me, and I can see Rose’s icy demeanor
turn even frostier at the topic.

Daisy eyes the chips longingly before putting on another
smile. “It’s nothing.”

Ryke is slouched, leaning back on only two legs of his chair.
He looks like an asshole. “You brought it up,” he reminds her. “So clearly you
want to talk about it.”

Melissa rubs his thigh, smirking now that he took her side
for a change. I should feel good about it too, but for some reason, I just feel
really fucking awful.
 

“I did bring it up,” she nods to herself. And then she
shrugs. “I guess the rules are simple. You know,
no getting fat. No ruining your hair. No getting too tan. And no
tattoos.
” Her lips twitch. “So good news is—I’m free to contract an STD.”

“Jesus Christ,” Ryke says under his breath, only loud enough
for me and Melissa to hear.
 

“That’s not funny,” Rose tells her, “and our mother may not
kill you, but I would.”

“Only joking,” Daisy says, sporting a goofy face before she
turns to Lily. “How’s school?”

Bringing Lily into any conversation usually deflects
attention, and it’s like watching a little perceptive mastermind at work.
Daisy’s good, and I wonder who else has caught onto her tricks. Which is why I
look to Connor.

He watches quietly, observing everything like some analyst
ready to type the social dynamic into a spreadsheet. He probably knows more
than he lets on. I wonder if he’s predicted the outcome of everything, if our
lives are neatly mapped out in his head with probabilities and statistics. Then
again, he didn’t figure out that Lily was a sex addict.

Regardless, I think being inside Connor Cobalt’s head would
be both terrifying and strange, and yet the most expensive amusement ride there
is.

Lily begins to spout off some story about a professor with a
bowtie and lisp, trying to avoid any topic about Stats and her exam grades.

“…so he was old.”

“That’s not a story,” Rose tells her pointedly.

“It is. Just not a good one.”

“How are you doing in classes, grade-wise?” Connor stirs up
the topic. “Sebastian is still tutoring you.” He doesn’t ask it more as
confirms what everyone already knows.

Lily’s eyes dart to a man carrying a huge bottle of liquor.
“Tequila!” she exclaims.

He turns to the table.

“You don’t drink,” Ryke reminds her, almost growling, even
though the alcohol was, obviously, a distraction. I don’t think she wants it,
but I’m feeling a little defensive today.

I shoot him a look. “She can have some if she wants.” I
don’t want her to think she has to be sober because of me. I wouldn’t ask her
to do that.

“No,” she says, wide-eyed. The waiter comes over and she
physically pushes him away.

I grab her arms. “Keep your hands to yourself,” I tell her
easily, not wanting her to get in trouble.

“You’re on Antabuse, right?” Melissa asks me. “My
step-mother took that for a while. She couldn’t even kiss my dad when he had a
glass of wine. It made her so sick.” She motions to Lily. “Is that why you
don’t drink?”

“What? No,” Lily says roughly, offended. “I never liked
drinking, really. But if I did, I wouldn’t care if I couldn’t kiss him.” She
cringes. “I mean, kissing doesn’t matter to me. In general. Not just with Lo.
So…yeah. I could give up kissing.”

“I think she gets it,” I tell her with a smile. She turns
bright red and takes my hand in hers. I lean over and whisper, “I’m glad I can
kiss you.” I put another soft one on her temple. Ever since her involuntary
climax in public, she’s been allowing me to touch her without desiring more. We’ve
even slept in bed without a pillow wedged between my cock and her ass. She
doesn’t grind on me or ask for more. It’s just sleep. In a way, something
amazing came out of something terrible.

The waiter starts taking everyone’s orders, and when I place
mine for the fish tacos, I just barely catch Daisy’s words.

“I think kissing is overrated.”

Oh no.

Ryke tenses beside me, and I hope he’s hearing my fucking
voice raging in his head right now.

“How so?” Melissa takes the bait.

Rose chokes on a bite of rice. She clears her throat and
puts a hand to her chest. “This isn’t appropriate dinner conversation.” Rose isn’t
a complete prude. She swears and talks dirty like the rest of us. I’ve heard
her curse out a three-hundred pound redneck for slapping a girl’s ass. Her
language was vulgar and kind of hilarious. Rose just knows this is headed to a
bad place.

Melissa rolls her eyes, not the biggest Rose-fan considering
Ryke blamed her and Connor for shutting the room down for sex. “I, for one,
would love a sixteen-year-old’s perspective,” Melissa says, turning right back
to Daisy. “I want to know how the younger generation feels.”

“Totally,” Daisy says with a head bob. “So my theory about
kissing—”

“There’s a theory?”

“Oh yeah. And my theory is that
not
kissing is sexier than actually kissing.” She holds up her
hands. “Just go with me on this. Say you’re with a guy and you can tell he’s
interested. There’s some heavy petting, some under the bra fondling.”

“We get it,” I snap.

“And then,” she continues without missing a beat, “he goes
in for the kiss. You pull back, refuse him an intimate piece of you. Tension
builds, and every other touch, flesh against flesh, feels illicit and intoxicating.”

“So you’re a tease,” Ryke says.

I’m about to curse him out, but Daisy cuts me off. “No, we
end up having sex.”

Ryke doesn’t even flinch. “If I’m not fucking mistaken,” he
says, “you mentioned sex being overrated as well.” When?!
Rehab.
I fucking hate rehab. I missed everything.

“That was until I took your advice.”

This is a train I cannot stop, and I selfishly want the
information I lost more than trying to halt it. “What advice?” I ask, my voice
edged.

Lily taps my leg repeatedly in fear. She knows, but I don’t
want to wait until later to hear myself.

Daisy opens her mouth and Ryke interrupts, seeing my anger
begin to boil. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

It’s bad. Whatever he said to Daisy involved sex, and my
mind is already reeling. “No, I’d like to hear,” I say, motioning for Daisy to
continue.

“Me too,” Melissa adds, shooting Ryke a side glare.

Lily buries her head in her hands. She’s the only one who
knows what they said to each other. She was the only one who went to Acapulco
besides Daisy’s friends.

Daisy hesitates now, and she tries to backpedal. “Just so
you all know, my sexual experience before was less than stellar, and I had
planned on warding off the male species entirely before Ryke talked to me.”

“That’s comforting,” Connor says flatly. He has a finger to
his cheek in contemplation, but his gaze is directed on Ryke, not Daisy.

I turn to my half-brother. “Thank God for your advice,
Ryke.” I wear a bitter smile and slap him on the back, hard.

He jerks forward and almost tips over his glass of water,
but he grabs it before it spills.

“Honestly, his advice worked,” Daisy continues, trying to
dig him out of a hole, but he’s buried too deep. “So really, you can’t fault
him for saying it if it helped me in the end.”

“Seriously,” I say between clenched teeth, “if you don’t
fucking tell me what he said, I’m going to flip the table.”

Ryke winces and gestures to Daisy. “Just say it.”

He gave her permission, but she’s still wary. Slowly and
cautiously, she says, “You shouldn’t let any guy fuck you until he makes you
come at least twice.”

The table practically silences with Rose giving Ryke an
unparalleled death glare.

Ryke and Daisy are both in the wrong. I know this, but I’m
putting all my frustration on Ryke. I don’t even know what to do or say, but if
I look at him, I think I may lose my mind.

Melissa breaks the quiet. “What great instruction for a
sixteen-year-old.” She crosses her arms over her chest.

Ryke lets out a breath. “What can I say? I give good
advice.”

Melissa slaps him across the face, the sound like a gunshot,
and most of the restaurant quiets.

Ryke sets his chair legs on the ground, his cheek red. That
had to sting like hell.

“I need to talk to you,” Ryke says. At first I think he’s
speaking to Melissa. “Lo.”

I shake my head, unable to meet his eyes.

Melissa lets out a low laugh. “Really?” She rises and throws
down her napkin. “I’ll be back at the hotel, not that you’ll care.”

“Wait…” Ryke stands up but he glances at me and falters.

“I’ll talk to her,” Daisy says, rising from the table.
Melissa hates Rose. She’s not that fond of Lily either, but I’m pretty sure
it’s Daisy that she despises. And I can’t say a word. I sit in my chair, replaying
Ryke’s advice to Daisy. I don’t care if it helped her or if it was good—there’s
a line there that I think he knows he crossed. Like he told me before—he just
doesn’t give a shit.

“You won’t be able to,” Ryke tells her. “Just let her go.
I’ll talk to her when we go back to the hotel.”

Daisy shakes her head, not taking this as an answer. She
sprints after Melissa.

“Fuck,” Ryke curses, running his hands through his hair. He
turns to me. “Please, just give me a fucking minute, Lo.”

I’m about to curse him out when Lily says, “Go on.” She
nudges my side, and I find myself rising off the seat and following Ryke into
the bathroom.