Addicted for Now (3 page)

“I’m not going to hurt her. He just has to think I am.”

Ryke stares at me for a long moment. “Did our father teach
you that?”

“Yeah,” I say. “He also taught me how to get in a car and
drive the fuck away.”

Ryke nods. “Glad to know you’re still an asshole, even
without the booze.”

“Must be genetic.”

Ryke smiles at this, and we both climb into his Infinity. I
don’t feel better after this. Because I don’t even remember some of the people
I pissed off.

I drowned most of them in a haze of whiskey and bourbon.

They’re gone from my mind for good.

{ 3 }

LILY CALLOWAY

“Is this an interrogation or a meeting?”
Ryke
asks roughly. He slouches on our navy Queen Anne chair
with a deep scowl, sweat stains seeping through a Penn track shirt.

There are only
three
people
who could have possibly spilled my secret. And the guy at the top of my suspect
list has yet to crumble. Although, very little ruffles Ryke Meadows.

And here he sits—edged, all hard-lines, his eyes perpetually
narrowed and his demeanor cocky and self-assured. He managed to become a part
of Lo’s life. He infiltrated our group, and he has never made a move to leave. He
either cares about his brother so much that he’s willing to endure almost
anything or he’s scheming for something greater—something that could overturn
my whole world.

 
So it’s true that
I’ve been hammering Ryke with questions, and I’m about one step away from
shining a blinding light in his face to get real serious. But I have a right to
freak out. My life is seconds from crumbling.

Lo passes Ryke a bottle of water.

I shoot Lo a wide-eyed look. He shouldn’t be giving him
sustenance until we have answers. That could have been our only bargaining
chip. “Who says he gets water?” I blurt out.

Their brows crinkle as though I’ve lost some brain cells.
Okay, so I’m being irrational. What else is new?

Ryke raises a hand. “I’m sorry, but is anyone else concerned
for my safety here?”

Lo ignores his brother and clasps my hand, pulling me to the
sofa. My leg touches his, but the closeness doesn’t calm me. Since I read the
text, panic has overpowered my chance at being composed and sane.

I don’t want to act like this, but my only other way of
coping with high-stress situations involves grinding and climaxing and
everything I’m
not
allowed to do.

Rose’s heels clap down the hallway. “Connor should be here
any minute now.” She sits on the pale yellow loveseat adjacent to the couch,
crossing her ankles. In a black pleated skirt and a high-collared silk blouse, she
looks far classier than anyone else in the room.

“Great, so you can direct this interrogation on someone
else,” Ryke says, eyeing me with a tad bit of scorn. But in Ryke Meadows’ case,
there’s probably a little pinch of love in there. At least I hope we made some
progress while Lo was in rehab. Sure, we had a rocky three months, but Lo was
always our common ground.

But if he’s behind some larger plot to ruin Lo’s life—and
consequently mine—I’ll never forgive him.

Lo runs a hand on my bouncing leg, trying to settle my
nerves. “I’m going to take care of it, Lil,” he says softly.

And my interrogation aside, Ryke gives him a dark, furtive
look. I’ve seen it before. It’s the kind you share with someone when you have a
secret.
 

I gasp. “Have you done something without me?”

Lo shakes his head. “No.” He won’t meet my eyes.

I smack his chest. “You’re a lying liar, and we’re supposed
to be truthful.”

“Well,” he draws out the word, “if the guy keeps texting us,
we may or may not be able to cross Aaron Wells off our suspect list.”

“May or may not?” Rose says. “That sounds like no progress.”

“I did what I did. I’m not going to take it back.” His voice
is sharp.

All I hear is
Aaron
Wells
, and I go cold. “What did you do?” Aaron is not someone I ever want
to see again.

Rose mutters something under her breath that sounds like
vandalize.

“I just talked to him,” Lo says.

I look to Ryke for verification. Clearly he was a part of
this plot, which only makes me more nervous.

“Yeah, we just talked,” Ryke says. “All of Aaron’s texts
were deleted, which was suspect.”

Lo nods in agreement, and then he leans closer and kisses my
cheek. “Okay?” he whispers to me.

I don’t think that’s the right word. I stare at the rug with
a faraway gaze.

“What about Ryke?” Rose asks. She holds a small teacup between
her tight fingers. She offered me a glass earlier, but I declined. I’m not sure
my body can handle ingesting anything else today. I’m already bloated with
fear.

“Not this
again.
”

“You know about Lily’s sex addiction. You could have told
someone.”

Ryke glares. “So do you.”

“Be real. She’s my
sister.
I’m not going to backstab her.”

“And she’s my brother’s girlfriend,” he snaps back. “Why
don’t you focus your attention on the guy who could easily spill this
information for a fucking price?”

“Don’t you dare.” Rose points a warning finger at him.

“Why? Connor came into the picture around the same time I
did. He learned about her sex addiction at the same exact time as us, and he
has more to gain than we do. And he has less to lose.”

“He would lose me,” Rose retorts.

I never wanted to believe that Connor could turn on me like
that. I still won’t entertain the thought for longer than a second. He’s too
nice (in his own way). But Ryke…

Lo scrutinizes his brother for a long moment. “Maybe Rose
has a point.”

“What?” Ryke leans forward. “You can’t be serious.”

“You may be my half-brother, but you’re also a liar. I think
we established that the moment we met.”

“Oh come on.”

“Let’s go back a few months. You came into my life, told me
you’re some student wanting to do a fake project on heirs to billion-dollar
companies—”

“Lily made that lie up,” Ryke interjects.

I gape. Way to throw me under! But I already came clean to
Lo about that, so there is only a morsel of shame.

Lo rolls his eyes. “Whatever, you knew the whole time that I
was your brother, and yet, you never said a word to
any
of us.”

“You have to be shitting me,” Ryke says. They must have had
this argument multiple times while Lo was in rehab. I wasn’t allowed to visit
him, but under some strange guidelines, Ryke was. I’m a little confused how
their relationship has developed since I’ve been away from Lo—but clearly
bitterness has festered.

Lo lets out an unhinged laugh. “I’m the
bastard
. I tore apart your parent’s marriage when I was born. You
should hate me.
I
would hate me.” He
takes a small breath. “And then I would build an elaborate scheme to tear me
down. Piece by piece. Starting with Lily. So forgive me if I’m having a hard
time trusting you one-hundred-and-ten percent.”

I can’t tell if Ryke is angry or upset by Lo’s declaration,
but I know this goes beyond my silly accusation. Deep hurt fills Lo’s words.

“Really? Even after everything I’ve done while you’ve been
in rehab?” Ryke asks.

“You mean keeping your cock away from my girlfriend. Yeah,
thanks.”

My eyes bug. I would jerk away from Lo if his hand wasn’t
pressed so tightly to my hip. Something’s wrong. I can sense it. We handle
stress differently. I fuck and he drinks. Now that we can’t do either, we’re
both trying to learn how to deal with it in a healthy manner.
Trying
is the key word here.

“You know that’s not it,” Ryke refutes.

“Sure.”

This one word makes Ryke look more livid than the past
twenty, and I think
this is
it
. Ryke is about to throw up his hands
and leave. Lo tenses beside me, probably expecting the same thing. We alienate
people. It’s what we’re good at.

“If I wanted to hurt you by creating some elaborate plot, I
would have already screwed Lily. And I sure as hell wouldn’t bother spending
time with you.”

I want to trust Ryke, mainly because he’s the only family Lo
has for support, but he’s a good liar like Lo said. He even fooled me.

Lo flashes his usual bitter smile, normally accompanied with
the raise of his bourbon. I can’t make sense of where his thoughts lie.

Before I can whisper in his ear to ask, the front door opens,
and the silence settles like a weight. Connor’s loafers hit the hardwood, the
noise heightening the tension.

He appears from the foyer, his thick wavy brown hair styled
perfectly, as though he’s ready for a congressional speech at any moment. He
slips his cellphone in his black slacks, his white button-down tucked in the
waistband. From afar, he inspects Ryke’s stiff posture on the Queen Anne chair
and Lo’s death clutch on the couch’s armrest.

“I missed something,” Connor states. “Was it good?” He looks
to Rose.

“Only if you enjoy the intelligible mumblings of Neanderthals.”
Her tone is pure ice.
 

“Good one, Rose,” Lo says flatly.

But Connor rubs his lips to keep from smiling further. And
when Connor smiles at my sister, I instantly straighten up and lean forward
like two orbiting stars are about to touch and kiss. I want to be present when
they do.

Lo pinches my hip as Connor takes a seat next to Rose,
sliding his arm along the back of the cushion behind her.

“You’re my girlfriend,” Lo whispers huskily in my ear,
teasing me to take his side of things. But in a game of wits, I should choose
the smart option and go with my sister. Or Connor. Lo is a losing battle.

“You’re my boyfriend,” I say the obvious. He edges closer,
and my heart pounds, his lips
right
there. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me.

He eases back.

Damn. I wish I had Professor Xavier’s power, but then again,
I wouldn’t want to force Lo to kiss me. I’d want him to
want
it as much as I do.

Connor gestures a hand between Ryke and Lo. “I’m sensing
tension here.”

“Lo was just thanking me for not fucking Lily,” Ryke says.

“Exactly,” Lo replies, his voice equally as dry.

Connor doesn’t even blink. “Must be a brother thing.” He
casually turns to Rose, whispers something in her ear and presses a light kiss
on her cheek. I cannot believe I’m envious of a kiss right now. But I really
am. I want that kiss. Not from Connor! Just to be clear. From Lo. I want the
kiss from
Lo.
My cheeks redden just
accidentally thinking the wrong thing. Jeez.

“You okay?” Lo whispers.

I nod, squirm a little, and rest my cheek on the crook of
his arm, safe in his embrace. His muscular body dwarfs my overly skinny frame.
I’m working on being healthier too. All skin and bones is not a good look.

Rose puts her hands up to Connor’s chest, blocking him from
scooting closer. “A brother thing? What’s going on here is not normal between
brothers
. You don’t see Greg Brady
thanking Peter for not having sex with Marsha.”

“No because that would be incest,” Connor says.

She shoots him a look. “It’s not
incestuous
because Marsha is only the stepsister.”

“True.” His eyes flit to her lips and back to her sharp gaze.
“And I’m surprised you used the word ‘normal.’ I thought we agreed last week
that it’s arbitrary and too subjective to have any real merit.”

She gives me a look like
why
am I with him again?

I smile and really want to say:
Because you’re two nerd stars, orbiting and meant to kiss.
But that
won’t make sense to anyone but me.

Rose and Connor have
had an odd three months together, constantly breaking up over intellectual
disputes like this and reuniting only a week later. Their relationship is
something I can’t quantify or really understand. I think maybe you have to have
a higher IQ or something. But I love watching them like Lo and I do Japanese
cartoons. We can’t comprehend what they’re saying, but it’s still fun to tune
in every week.

Rose points a manicured finger at his chest. “You can’t
discount an entire word just because you don’t think it has merit, Richard.”
Ooh, she used his real first name. “You’re basically saying Foucault’s entire
sociological studies were worthless.”

My head hurts trying to listen to them, but I’m strangely
enthralled.

“Hey,” Lo cuts in, clapping his hands. They both look at us
like we’ve just appeared in the room. “You two can discuss normal people and Faulkner
later.”

“Foucault,” Rose corrects him.

“What?”

“It’s
Foucault
.
Not Faulkner.”

“Whatever, they both start with an
F
,” Lo snaps. “You know what else starts with an F?”

“Fuck you,” Connor beats him to it. He also says it so
casually—like he’s trying to answer an Academic Bowl question. I can’t help but
break out into a grin.

Lo catches me smiling and gives me a look. I press my lips
together to try to contain it, but it’s too hard and I probably seem goofy
instead. The corner of his mouth quirks. My heart flutters because for the
first time in three months, I can see these reactions.

He draws forward and places a light kiss on my nose. I
didn’t even have to chant
kiss me
for
him to do it. I bite my bottom lip, giddiness replaced by dangerous thoughts. Of
yanking Lo into the bedroom, easing him onto the mattress, straddling his waist
and skimming my fingers over each ridge in his abs. And then his half-smile
will extend to his whole face, the grin enough to light up my body.

I could mumble some lame excuse to leave the meeting, but my
throat tightens and guilt festers, even though I haven’t taken a step towards
my bedroom yet. Planning out the events makes me feel like a failure. Why is
that?

“You look good by the way,” Connor tells Lo.

“Thanks.”

I forgot they haven’t seen each other since Lo’s stint in
rehab. I squint at Connor and put him on my pedestal of suspects. Maybe Ryke is
right. In return for the info about my sex addiction, Connor could bribe his
way into Wharton—the prestigious graduate school at Penn where he plans to go
for an MBA.

Connor meets my gaze, and his brow arches like he knows I’m unlawfully
incriminating him.