Addicted for Now (7 page)

Sebastian snubs his cigarette on a magazine. “Rose is my
best friend. I’m just saving her from the heartbreak.” He lights another. But
his words sound incredibly fake. I don’t believe him one bit.

“Why are you telling me this?” I ask, crossing my arms. I
want to warn Connor about Sebastian’s determination to break them up. Hell, I’m
going to tell Rose what a horrible friend she has. And she would believe me.
I’m her sister.

“You can’t say a word,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, I can.”

He shakes his head, taps some ash right on the carpet. “No
you can’t.” He nods to the stack of papers on my textbook. “Rose will not
condone your new studying tactics. And Connor Cobalt would be even more
displeased.” He sucks on the cigarette.

Oh…shit.

He’s trapped me so quickly. I slump back, winded as though
he spun me through a washing machine.

I can’t tell my sister that her friend is planning on
ruining her life. I should do the right thing and come clean, not be an awful human
being.

But I
need
those
tests.

And Rose can take care of herself. She’s the strongest girl
I know.

But as Sebastian tosses that ballerina figurine in his hand,
I wonder how she’s been blinded by someone like him for all these years. It can
happen again.

My only hope lies in Connor.

He’ll have to foil Sebastian’s plans. He’ll have to prove to
Rose that he’s the best man for her. I can’t warn him, but if I had to put
money on a match between these two, I’d always bet on Connor Cobalt.

{ 8 }

LOREN HALE

After spending lunch with my brother, I end up in
Rose Calloway’s Escalade. She conveniently showed up at the café. They acted
all surprised about it—like she just happened to spot us, driving past Rocco’s
Deli on her way home.

But I figured out quickly that Ryke called her to cart me to
our house while he went back to Philly for college. Like I have to be equipped
with a twenty-four-seven babysitter, like I can’t be trusted in a cab or for a
brief stroll down the sidewalk alone. I am the equivalent of a ninety-year-old
lady needing a person as a crutch to cross the street.

It’s ridiculous. And even if I do want to talk to Rose about
my plan to earn some cash—I would never volunteer to be alone with the girl.
She hates me. And Lily may not see it like that, but Rose and I have an
understanding that we’re never going to be best friends. We withstand each
other for Lily, and that has to be enough. Growing up, Lily would choose me—a
boy—over Rose, her sister, and that type of jealousy accumulates over the years
into something deep and raw. No apology will matter.

And I get it. I would be resentful too. I’ve never wanted
Rose to cut me slack, which must be why I poke the coals, stirring the flames
and provoking her temper. I deserve every cold look, every biting comment. I
deserve that fucking pain.

I get it.

“You look loads of fun today, Rose,” I say as she clenches
the steering wheel, spine straight and eyes focused on the street. I should be
a good person and ask what’s bothering her, but I can’t form the words.
Caring—that’s Ryke’s thing.

“Look in the mirror,” she says icily.

I do. Just to humor her. And what stares back at me is a
scowl that could shatter the reflection. Sharpened jaw and dark circles beneath
my amber eyes, showing everyone how fucking tired I actually am.

There’s no sleep for the wicked.

“I grow more beautiful with age,” I deadpan. “Must be the
alcohol.”

“That’s not even a little amusing.”

“Maybe because you lost your funny bone in your Gucci
handbag.”

She glares and then drives up to our gate.

My phone buzzes, and I check the text with a palm over the
screen so Rose doesn’t catch a glimpse.

Your girlfriend is a
whore.
– Unknown

I clench my teeth, my insides broiling. I want to find this
bastard more than anything, but I’m running out of options. I can’t knock on
the door of every enemy that I remember. There are too many. And I’ve already
poked one burning coal that may have been simmering down. Since I threatened
him, Aaron Wells could be reinvigorated to come after me even more—or he could
be ready to bury his head in a hole. That’s the chance I took by visiting his
house and assuming he was the texter. (He still could be for all I know.)

But I’m not sure it’s wise to do the same thing to guys who
haven’t spoken to me in years.

Tracking the texts—that’s the best shot I have, but I hate
that it’s out of my hands. I wonder how long it’ll be before I become
completely unhinged.

I’m about to slip the phone back in my pocket, but another
text chimes.

How many guys have
fucked your girlfriend? Do you think the news will tell us the number?
–
Unknown

“Everything okay?” Rose asks as the car slows down by the
gate.

“Yeah,” I lie, typing quickly.

What do you want?
I
text back.

If it’s money, I’ll find a way to pay him off. I can ask my
father for a loan. I’ll double the amount that the tabloids are offering him. I
just don’t want Lily’s secret to reach her family’s ears. Once her parents
learn that she’s a sex addict—I’m not sure Lily will be able to handle that
shame. I don’t think she’s ready for it.

Satisfaction
–
Unknown.

What the fuck does that mean?
Of what?
I text.

My leg jostles as I wait for the reply. I realize that Rose
has put her Escalade in park, waiting by the gate’s keypad. She rolls down the
window but watches me closely before she types in the code.

“Don’t,” I snap at her. I really don’t want to hear her ideas
or thoughts on the matter. She probably has tons of opinions about how I should
be responding to this guy, and I’m positive that she would handle this
differently.

“You shouldn’t provoke him.”

“I wouldn’t.”
Yeah, I
kind of would.
That’s what I do, even unintentionally.

Her lips purse. “Please. I know you.”

My phone vibrates on my leg.

I want the
satisfaction of hurting you the way you’ve hurt me.
– Unknown

The bottom of my stomach drops. This isn’t about money. This
is payback for whatever I did. I’m not a saint, and I wouldn’t begin to defend
myself. I just never wanted to believe that Lily would be the one destroyed
because of me. So I text,
Don’t go after
her. You can do whatever the hell you want to me. Just leave her out of this.
And
I hesitate before I press send.

 
I’m sniveling. I’m giving this guy exactly
what he needs. Ammunition to use against me. My father would never show him
weakness like this. And what is the guy going to say in reply?
Oh, I’m so sorry, Lo. I didn’t know she
meant so much to you.
No, he’s going to tell me to eat shit and watch my
girlfriend burn.

This is not the way to win a fight.

So I delete that text and rewrite:
I’ll find you, you motherfucker. Don’t ever doubt that.
Send.

I pocket my phone and meet Rose’s moody gaze.

“What?” I say.

“You did exactly what I told you not to do, didn’t you?”

“Yep.”

She mutters under her breath, shaking her head. And as she
leans out of the window to type in the key code, her eyes fall to something
down below. I’m glad for the distraction. The phone feels less heavy in my
jeans. I begin to shelve the texts in the back of my mind. On a normal day, I’d
just go grab a bottle of Macallan and call it a night.

“Drop a bracelet?” I ask.

Her lips tighten.

“Worse than a bracelet? Damn, we’re at a DEFCON 1 then.
Better prepare for nuclear war.”

She actually looks impressed. “You know what DEFCON means?”

“Yeah. I also know how to spell ‘duh’ and ‘hurry the fuck
up.’” I don’t add that
X-Men
uses a
version of the term for an imminent mutant crisis. How I learned the facts
shouldn’t matter anyway.

She shoots me the signature Rose Calloway glare—the one that
looks like she’s two seconds from eating your soul. I glower back, but
internally, I want to run the fuck away. I don’t know how Connor
smiles
when she looks at him like that.
She’s not bluffing. I bet she eats the hearts of every womanizer for the hell
of it.

She flings her door open. “Wait here.”

Yeah, where else am I
going to go?

She rummages out of sight for a minute, and curiosity gets
the better of me. I unbuckle and stretch over the driver’s seat, peering down
through the window.

Rose squats on the ground next to purple hydrangeas, ivy
spindling up the iron gate beside the robust flowers. White petals flutter by
her side, but her back blocks whatever’s in front of her.

“What are you doing?” I ask like she’s gone insane. I think
there may be a screw loose in all of the Calloway girls. Well, maybe except
Daisy. She seems pretty normal.
 

“He can’t just send me things and expect to be forgiven,”
she says in a huff. “It doesn’t work like that.” She grunts a little, and more
petals burst.

And then she stands and turns. She clutches the stems to
what
was
a bouquet of white roses,
but they look pathetic in her tight fist. Every petal has been ripped apart and
fallen to the grass below.

“You just mauled a plant,” I say flatly. There’s something
disturbing about this, and yet, I can’t help but laugh.

She glares harder. “Hold this.” She shoves a glass vase
through the window.

“You’re not going to shatter it?” I ask. “All in the name of
love? For your broken heart?”

“My heart isn’t broken.”

“I forgot, you’re made of steel. The bionic, unfeeling
woman. Connor must love cuddling with your nuts and bolts.” I slip back to my
seat.

She slams the car door, not even wasting another glare on
me. She has yet to go for the worst look—the “I’m going to castrate you” one. I
think she must be saving it for Connor. I am so glad I’m not him.

 
“What’d he do?” I
ask. “Misspell your favorite word? Beat you in a game of Scrabble?”

She doesn’t say anything. She just retypes the code and puts
the car in gear as the gate groans open. When the car rolls along the driveway
towards the colonial house, it hits me.

“You can’t be serious,” I say. “You’re still angry at him
because he gave me some beer months ago, when I wasn’t even planning on being
sober?” I don’t want to ruin anyone else’s relationship. It’s why Lily and I
closed off to people—so no one else had to get hurt because of our mistakes.

She pulls into the garage and turns off the ignition. “You
wouldn’t understand.” She’s about to climb out of the car, but I lean over her
and flick the lock, trapping her in the confines of the Escalade.

Connor told me not to defend him. Right after they had that
fight in our living room, he took me aside and said to stay out of it. But I
can’t let him be attacked for this. He was just being a friend in a time when I
wouldn’t let anyone in my life.

“Give the guy a break,” I say. “He bends over backwards for
you.”

Rose stares at me for a long moment, biting her gums, it
seems. And then she tries to unlock the car again, but I beat her to the
button, flicking it faster than she does.

“Loren,” she warns.

“Just say it,” I retort. “Say what you mean.” She doesn’t
think I can handle it, but I can.
 

“You don’t understand,” she snaps. “Connor knew you were
addicted, and he handed you beer. And you think that’s okay. You’re sitting
there, telling me that it’s okay when it’s not. Do you see how wrong that is?”

“Rose, he didn’t do anything wrong.” I grimace as soon as I
hear myself. And I understand immediately why Connor told me not to say a word
in his defense. Because I am making a great case why he shouldn’t have given me
an ounce of liquor. I’m the alcoholic—the one who believed I could live a life
drinking every minute of every fucking day. Vouching for Connor makes him look
guilty. And maybe he is to some extent.

“What he did was awful,” she says, “and I don’t care if it
was just a means to be your friend.”

I run a shaky hand through my hair, and when I glance back
at her, she pales a little. “No, I’m fine,” I say. “Honestly, I’m not going to
go race to a liquor store after this conversation, okay?”

She nods, stiff and unmoving.

“Rose,” I say. “I’m not trying to defend the guy, but…” This
is hard for me to say. I even clear my throat, the words lodging for a second.
“…I don’t know if I would be right here if he didn’t find a way to enter my
life and Lily’s. He was the first nonjudgmental person that I could withstand
to be around. He never looked at me like I was fucked up, even if he was
probably thinking it. I liked having him as a friend. I still do.”

I hand her the vase, and she no longer looks willing to
chuck it at the wall.

“He’s human,” I remind her. “He’s not perfect. No one is.”

Her lips twitch. “Wise words from Loren Hale. You must have
plagiarized from a fortune cookie.”

I let out a weak laugh, actually smiling at that one. She’s
good. I unlock the car. From the back garage door, we enter the house, walking
into the granite kitchen.

Lily must have heard the garage because she breezes through
the archway with a zipped backpack. She sets it on a chair and waits patiently
for me to approach her by the bar stool. She’s doing well, and then I notice
the way she fiddles with her fingers, the way she presses her thighs tightly
together.

I close the space between us and slide my arms around her
shoulders. She rests her cheek to my chest, but her body doesn’t sag in relief.
No, it tightens in eagerness. Lily doesn’t do hugs. She fucks until she passes
out.

And I so badly want to fix her, but I can only help. The
real mending—that has to be her job, her fight, her battle. I can’t win this
one for her—just like she can’t defeat my demons.

Shoes tap along the hardwood, and I expect to see Connor
Cobalt cresting the archway. Instead, I’m met with Sebastian Ross.

He’s still here after tutoring Lil? I internally groan. His
self-confident swagger rubs me wrong. Always has. He wears a smug grin
ninety-nine percent of the time, and he makes certain he knows what’s going on
in everyone’s life. Sebastian and I have never seen eye to eye. Maybe because I
say more mean comments to Rose than nice ones. He thinks I’m an asshole.

I am.

And he has full right to dislike me. I’ll give him that.

I guide Lily over to a small breakfast table and sit on the
chair, bringing her on my lap. She opens her mouth, probably about to ask when
we’re going to have sex, but she shuts her lips and blushes.

Before rehab, this is when I’d tease her. Run my hand down
her thigh and watch her breath catch. It takes every ounce of strength to shake
my head. Her eyes widen in slight horror, but I press a kiss to her temple.

I want to distract her from sex, so I ask, “Anything good on
TV?”

“I taped
Avengers
Assemble
while you were in rehab,” she says softly. “It’s pretty good, but
they make Captain America look kinda weak.”

I smile. “Spoiler alert?”

“No, he wimps out in the first episode.” She seems to relax,
which makes me relax.