Thrive (30 page)

“For
two years, Lily?” She looks like she’s going to cry. Maybe because I never
trusted her with this information.

“I’m
sorry,” I whisper. “It was working…” Until now. I can’t touch my abdomen. Is
there really something in there?

“I’m
surprised you haven’t been pregnant ten times already.”

“The
test could be wrong,” I exclaim, sticking to this one bit of hope. How can I
tell Lo? It will send him off a cliff that I’ve been trying to draw him away
from for months.

“I’ll
schedule an appointment for you so we’ll know for sure,” she says.

I
nod, and my gaze drifts to the counter where her test lies. She is fixed to the
floor, too scared to confront her own fate. So I do it for her, approaching the
pregnancy stick.

Two
lines.

Just
like mine.

I
shake my head, a weight lifting off my chest at a single thought. “These tests
have to be broken, Rose. What’s the probability that we both got pregnant at
the same time?” It’s all wrong. We’re okay.

“Not
impossible, obviously,” she says, her body rigid like a board. “I’ll schedule
an appointment for me too.”

I
blow out another breath, this time it quakes my chin. “I can’t tell Lo,” I
realize. Even if it’s true, I don’t know if I can tell him right away either.
It’ll crush him so much. I don’t want to cause him any pain.

“I
know,” she says. “I’m not telling Connor.”

My
mouth falls. “Why?” He
wants
children.
They’ve been married for a little over a year, and they’ve withstood a lot
together, with no signs of parting. They channel power from the universe that
only nerd stars can access. I’m sure of it.

The
galaxy is on their side.

“He’ll
be
happy
.” She says the word like
it’s disgusting. “And I want to process the awfulness of this situation for as
long as possible without him gloating and grinning.” She raises her chin like a
declaration. “If he’s truly as smart as he claims to be, he’ll figure it out on
his own.”

I
wonder if she really just wants to pretend like it’s not happening for a while.
It’s weird, but Connor will probably like the challenge. Then again, maybe it
isn’t so weird. He’s Connor Cobalt.

She
appraises my mental state for a second, returning her worries back to me.
“We’ll help each other,” she says. “And we won’t tell anyone else until you’re
ready to tell Lo.”

“
If
I’m pregnant,” I say, but the
waterworks have already begun again. Rose is usually right. She’s the smart
one, so the fact that she’s not even considering an inaccuracy in the test—it
makes it more real than I want it to be.

She
rips off a piece of toilet paper and hands it to me.

I
dry my eyes, realizing that if we’re going to have any chance at hiding this, I
can’t leave the bathroom distressed and upset. I sniff.

“I’m
here for you,” she says in that icy, Rose Calloway voice. Strangely, it’s
become more than comforting. “We won’t let each other down.”

I
nod. In the end, I have to do what’s best for Lo. Even if it hurts.

{ 50 }

2 years : 01 month

September

LOREN HALE

“Where’s Daisy?” Rose asks, strutting into the
kitchen with Lily after they spent probably fifteen minutes together in the
bathroom. Connor is right. I shouldn’t question these things. It’s Rose. She
could’ve been asking Lily about sex, just overly concerned.

Connor dumps bacon into a bowl. Breakfast for dinner,
Daisy’s choice for her going away party. “The garage,” he says. “Ryke went to
check on her.”

I watch Lily approach me. Her gaze rakes me in a slow
once-over, landing on my crotch. I don’t even think she realizes that she’s
doing it. Which actually makes me smile. She stops a foot from me, hesitating.

Screw that. I hook my fingers in the band of her leggings
and pull her to my chest. She knocks straight into me, a gasp escaping her
lips, and she sets her palms flat on my abs. I kiss her nose, and she blushes.
“Lo,” she whispers, her heart beating quickly against me. Mine matches her
speed, and I kiss her cheek. She breathes deeply, need flickering in her eyes
but also something else…

She looks away from me, focusing on Connor and Rose who have
a good five feet between them.

Rose has her arms crossed. “I hate your smile.”

“You love my smile. That’s why it annoys you, darling.”

“Your backwards logic wouldn’t make it past the first round
of the Quiz Bowl Tournament.”

He takes a step closer to her. “My logic is what won my team
the Quiz Bowl Tournament. Four years. In a row.”

She glares. “I hope your cat scratches your face tonight,”
she deadpans. Rose even mimics the claws with her hand.

He grins like she gave him the best compliment.
 

My eyes fall back to Lily. “Lil?”

“Did you talk to Ryke about dating?” she asks, dodging my
teasing like I’m not even kissing her. Usually she’d at least smile back.

“Yeah…he says that he’s not with your sister.” We’ve
all
speculated that something’s going on
between him and Daisy ever since she moved into his apartment complex. He
hasn’t dated one single girl since then. He even
rejects
girls when they try to flirt or offer their number. It’s
weird.

“Maybe he has a secret girlfriend that’s
not
Daisy,” Lily offers a theory. He’s
with Daisy almost every day. Connor doesn’t even think that’s possible.

“I don’t know…”

Lily anxiously rubs her arm, and her leg rises towards my
hip, more out of impulse, a bad one. I can tell the difference by now.

“You okay, Lil?” I ask.

“Yeah,” she breathes. She drops her leg, catching herself.

“You’d tell me if I was pushing you too far?”

She nods quickly. “I’m okay, really. A little…” She leans
close and whispers, “
aroused
.” Then
she blushes again, but she ends up smiling nervously.

My lips rise. “I had no idea,” I say. “We’ll have to do
something about that later.” I kiss the corner of her lips, and her body curves
into mine. My hand lowers to her back, sliding underneath the band of her—

“Loren,” Rose snaps, completely ruining this.

I internally sigh and put some space between us. “Yeah?”

“How about you not grope my sister when I’m in the room?”

The irritation just storms right back inside of me. “How
about you
not
verbally fuck your
husband when I’m in the room, thanks?” I flash a smile.

Rose looks at me like I’m crazy. “I don’t even know
what you’re talking about.”

Connor leans against the kitchen counter with a growing
smile, popping a grape in his mouth. Yeah, even when he eats, his lips pull
upward in a rich grin.

“
I hate your smile
,”
I mimic her in a high voice. “
Your
backwards logic wouldn’t…
whatever.” I can’t even mimic her right. I wave
her off and head towards the door. I need to get my brother and Daisy anyway.
The food is all cooked.

As I open the door, I hear Rose’s voice in the background.
“I was not flirting with you, Richard.”

I can pretty much feel his grin overtake his whole face.

“Hey,” I call, stepping into the garage and shutting the
door behind me. “Dinner is…” My face falls, morphing into a series of emotions.

Ryke and Daisy are on a parked motorcycle together, her legs
wrapped around his waist, lying almost flat against the gas can near the
handlebars. His body is pushed up against hers, no space between them. It’s
miles and miles away from innocent.

The worst part: just minutes ago Ryke told me that
nothing
was going on. I don’t get it. I
don’t fucking understand why he has to lie to me. I ask him if he has feelings
for her. He says no. I ask him if they’re fucking. He says no. I ask him
anything
and he gives me responses he
thinks I want to hear. He’s walking on egg shells for me, and I just need the
fucking truth.

Every day, I feel like I’m going out of my goddamn mind.

Anger drives into me. From so many places. I can’t stop it.
Ryke climbs off the bike, acting guiltless about the whole ordeal. Daisy
follows suit, and when they’re both standing on the concrete, I go off.

“Did I interrupt something?” I ask my brother.

“No,” Ryke says. “We were just talking.”

I nod repeatedly. There are fears so deep that I can barely
touch them. He could fuck over Daisy. Break her heart. He could betray me. And
break mine. I just need him to give me
something
.
Tell me that he loves her. Tell me that
this
is more than what I think it is.
Anything
that can put these doubts to bed.

 
I ask, “If you were
just
talking, then why were her legs
wrapped around your waist?”

“Lo,” Daisy cuts in. Ryke raises his hand, silently telling
her to stay out of it.

“We’re friends,” Ryke says to me.

That’s all he gives me:
We’re
friends.
I shake my head. “Friends don’t do shit like that.” I point at the
Ducati that they were
just
on
together.

Ryke pinches the bridge of his nose, his jaw hardening.
“What do you fucking want me to say?”

Anything.
“That
what I just saw was a mistake!” I shout.

His lips tighten. He just stares at me. I want to punch him
right now. Maybe then he’ll tell me the truth.

“It was a mistake,” Daisy says. “I wanted to see what it
would be like to ride on a motorcycle backwards. I needed his help.”

I look between them. Is she serious? “That’s the best lie
you can come up with?”

She smiles. “It’s actually the truth.”

“This isn’t a fucking joke, Daisy. He’s seven years older
than you. He’s been with more girls than you probably even realize.” I don’t
want to bring a person in her life that’ll just screw her and leave her. I
can’t handle that.

“No,” she says, “I realize that he’s slept with a lot of
women, but his number is probably one that I would have easily reached at
twenty-five too.”

I grimace. Sometimes I think she puts on this act like
“I’m so old and experienced”
just for my
brother. “I’m in an alternate universe right now.”

“Really?” Daisy says with a lopsided smile, one that
brightens her whole face. It reminds me that she’s still young and may be able
to escape all of this. I want something better for her than my brother. She has
the opportunity to leave Philly behind, date a guy without so much baggage. She
can be so fucking free. “Cool,” she nods. “Is it more fun here? I think it is.”
She turns to Ryke. “What do you think?”

His eyes never leave me. “Tone it down.” And then he says,
“Lo—”

“You’re not good enough for her,” I interject. “You realize
that, right?”

Ryke’s muscles flex, as tense as me. “I care about Daisy
just as much as you, if not more, so you don’t need to pull this overprotective
bullshit on me.”

I want to believe that. So badly. The side of me that I hate
most never will. “It’s not bullshit if you’re fucking her,” I say.

“We’re not fucking!” he shouts.

The door opens, and Connor, Rose and Lily slip into the
garage.

Lily stands next to me with a heavy frown. “What’s going
on?” she whispers.

“I caught them fucking on her motorcycle.” I literally say
it to be mean.

Ryke groans. “Come on! We were both on the bike, fully
fucking clothed. We’ve
never
had
sex!” He shakes his head. “How many times do I have to say it?”
I don’t know. I don’t know how to give you a
fucking break when I rarely get one.
It’s the cruelest part of my soul.
“You know what,” he says, “we might as well fuck if you all think we’ve done it
a thousand times already.”

“Whoa, whoa.” I cringe and raise my hands. “I can’t stomach
you guys doing it once. So please spare me the goddamn picture of it happening
a thousand times.”

“Both of you,” Connor chimes in, stepping off the short
stairs that lead down into the garage, “stop for a second.” He stands between
us. “You’re overreacting.”

Probably. But sometimes it feels good to see the anger flash
in my brother’s eyes. Like we’re on equal playing fields. It’s sick, I realize.

“I don’t like being accused of things that I didn’t fucking
do,” Ryke growls.

That just about kills me. “Yeah? How do you think Dad
feels?!” It comes out before I can stop it. The garage deadens with silence, my
hostile voice echoing. I have not
once
pressured
Ryke for a statement. I won’t either.

But every day he remains quiet is another day I fight this
alone. All he has to do is go to the press. That’s it. If he can’t vouch for
our dad, then why can’t he at least vouch for
me?
Yeah I’m not the greatest person to be around, but he’s been by
my side for three goddamn years. That has to count for something.

I swallow, realizing he’s not going to say anything. I can’t
force him to speak out. It’s too big of a deal. “She’s eighteen,” I tell him,
sticking to the topic.

“Here we go.” Ryke tosses his arms in the air. “Let’s
fucking hear it, Lo. She’s eighteen. She’s like your little sister. Her mom
hates me. I know. I know. I fucking
know
.”

Pain ripples through me.
I’m
sorry.
Am I though? I just feel like shit. Lily’s arm slides around my
waist, and my shoulders begin to relax. I exhale.

It’s not over though. I’ve always been a machine gun,
another bullet ready after I press the trigger. Most of the time, I’m just
waiting for it to ricochet. And finally hit me.

{ 51 }

2 years : 01 month

September

LILY CALLOWAY

I skirt past the kitchen, training my focus on the
living room and the remote. Not Loren Hale, who closes the fridge, a water
bottle in hand. I am
not
even going
to glance at his gorgeous bone structure, those sharp-as-ice cheekbones or the
pink lips that turn into a sexy pout when he glares. Or his intense amber eyes
that always stare
straight
into me.

It’s
just me and the remote.

Right on the couch cushion.

“Hey,”
Lo calls after me.

“Hey
back,” I reply, not slowing down.
Hello,
remote.
I sidle to the couch and before I even plop down, Lo runs to catch
me. In a flash, he clasps my bicep, stopping me. I let the surprise float
across my face. “Do you have Peter Parker reflexes? Why didn’t you tell me you
were bitten by a radioactive spider?”

He
doesn’t laugh or even acknowledge my joke. “Why are you acting so weird?”

“Weird
how?” My stomach does a dance, the kind of nervous dance that only middle
school students can relate to.

“You’re
avoiding me.”

Okay.
He’s right on that account. On my way to the doctor with Rose, we had a major
flat tire, which was a bad, bad sign, doomed from the start. So by the time the
doctor said
you’re pregnant
to both
of us, I resigned to the fact that this was some real cosmic injustice.

And
that I better get my shit together so the news doesn’t break Lo. Rose is two
weeks further along than me, so she may have to announce her pregnancy before I
do. But I just have to wait for the best moment, the perfect time where Lo is
in a better place. I’m hoping it’ll come before I start showing. It has to.

“Lily,”
he snaps, waving his hand in my face. “Are you even with me?”

Keeping
this from Lo is like carrying around a grenade, not knowing when it’ll blow up.
“I’m not avoiding you,” I say swiftly.

“You
just
walked right past me,” he argues,
“and yesterday, you didn’t even wait to shower with me.” Shower sex. I skipped
shower sex. That had to be a big red flag. His eyebrows pinch together, hurt
coursing through his features. “Did I do something? Are you mad at me?”

“No,”
I say, a knife wedging itself in my ribcage. “I just wanted to go longer
without having sex so frequently. You know, see if I can do it. Like a personal
goal or something.”

His
muscles loosen in an instant. “Can you let me know when you’re planning these
personal goals?”

I
nod. “Good news,” I say, rising on my tiptoes and hooking my arms around his
neck, “I’ve completed it.”

His lips
curve upward, and his hands fall to my ass, squeezing and building a strong pressure
like sexual magic. He walks me back into the couch, and I lie against the
cushions, the remote digging into my shoulder blade. I toss it on the floor and
feel the weight of Lo’s toned body bearing down on mine.

A
noise catches in my throat, and my heart skips, utterly transfixed by his lips.
I try to lean up to touch them with mine, but he places his palm on my chest,
flattening me against the couch.

“I
don’t like this game,” I tell him.

His
knees rest on either side of my hips, straddling me and making it near
impossible to roll off the couch or to acquire a long, sultry kiss.

“You
don’t?” His brows rise, and his hand disappears up my thin cotton shirt.
Gliding over my skin, teasing me. It’s a rush that fills me with need.

“
Yes
,” I breathe. Yes? Was that the right
response?

“Looks
like you’re stuck here,” he says.

Yes.
I try to focus, but that hand is
creeping up my abdomen at such a slow, intoxicating pace. “No kissing?” I
whisper.

He
bends down, and his lips brush the nape of my neck, his nose nuzzling me. I cry
a little, the sensations blistering and pulsing inside of me. His tongue slides
against my soft skin, and I shudder, my limbs trembling beneath him.

Not
fair. So not fair. I am a goner. I let out a hoarse ragged breath, and then
wedge my arm between our bodies, enough that I can place a hand on the outside
of his pants. When I begin rubbing, he groans into my neck.

Ha! I
take it a step further and slide my hand underneath the elastic of his gym
shorts but over his tight compression shorts, like spandex that most guys wear
to keep their stuff in place when they work out. Very little fabric lies
between my palm and his cock.

Lo
rocks his pelvis, sucking gently on my neck, and his lips travel to mine in a
brief moment, attacking with feverish hunger.
Yes. God yes.

Instead
of moving my hand, I let him grind his body against me. My lips ache and swell,
and my panties begin to soak. When I feel him harden, I let out a sharp breath
and try to slip my fingers beneath his compression shorts.

But
he rests his palm on top of my hand, silently telling me to keep it there.

He
kisses slower, and his tongue flicks in and out of my mouth, the best French
kisser in the whole wide world. I think I could do this forever. Well, not
forever
. I need a release sooner or
later, but foreplay has never been better between us. I revel in the beforehand
now. Each moment means something. It’s not just about the climax.

Though
something hard,
really
hard, right
inside of me would be just about perfect.

“Hey,
get the fuck off each other.” Ryke’s voice wakes me from my blissful thoughts.
A pillow assaults my side.

Lo
props his body up with one arm, just enough to detach his lips from mine and
reveal exactly where my hand has journeyed. In Lo’s shorts. On his cock.

Should
I look over? I do. I glance at Ryke, who towers over the couch. My elbows heat
in a shade of rash-red. Ryke crosses his arms, a dark accusing look on his
face. “The couch is a public area.”

“We
weren’t fucking,” Lo refutes with a half-smile. “Thanks for the concern,
bro
.” He helps me retrieve my hand from
his shorts because I have frozen in a pit of embarrassment.

“Ten
minutes later and you might have been,” he notes. “I really want to fucking go.
The weight benches are probably all taken, so can you hurry up?”

“Yeah
give me ten minutes.”

“Not
with her
,” he says. “It’s the middle of
the afternoon.” Shit.

Lo’s
jaw muscles tic, and he rises to his feet. “Ten minutes
alone
, I got it.”

I
cover my hot face with my hands, watching out of the cracks of my fingers. I
can’t touch myself. For other people, it’s not so dangerous. For me, it may
trigger my compulsions. Losing thoughts and time to porn and masturbating—not
again. I don’t want to regress, not with this baby ticking inside of me.

I
just need…to forget about the pulsing between my thighs.
Do not think of what it feels like to climax, Lily.
Think about ugly thoughts. Unattractive
things.
I glance at Ryke, his scowly unshaven face and general broodiness.
It almost kills my arousal.
Almost.

Lo
pauses beside the couch, and his eyes fall to me. “You’re coming with us, Lil.”

“Nonono,”
I say. “I’m coming with you, not him.” I point a finger at Ryke, thusly
removing a hand-shield from my face.

Ryke
groans. “Really, Calloway?”

“Not
that type of coming, Lil,” Lo says with a small smile, making me like less of a
sex-crazed freak. He nudges my shoulder with his knee. “To the gym, okay?”

I
nod, nervous flutters in my belly. I can hold out. I realize I’ve crossed my
legs. I’d like something very, very hard still.
Don’t think about it.
Right. Unattractive things.
Ryke Meadows. Ryke Meadows.

I
breathe out.

“Don’t
leave her,” Lo tells Ryke. It’s not a question.

His
fear lingers long after he leaves, like a dust storm he kicked up in his wake.
I think I’m okay. Wet, aroused, but I can wait until tonight. No porn or touching.
It’s not what I really want anyway. Loren Hale is my one true desire.

A
couple seconds pass, the silent, awkwardness in the room disturbs me. I still
lie on the couch, afraid to uncross my legs at the current moment.

“Can
you talk?” I ask, tempted to just burrow in this couch like a naked mole rat
and never return to see daylight.

“Sure,”
he says roughly, which makes me a little scared of what comes next. “We should
talk about how I now have to wait for your boyfriend to jerk off before we can
go to the gym.”

I
cringe and let my other hand fall from my face. “Doesn’t it skeeve you out that
you’re talking about your
brother
jerking off?”

He
rolls his eyes and throws another pillow at me. Seriously annoying. Mood
killer. I brighten. It’s working, and I don’t even think Ryke meant to be my
sexual repellant.

“Who
instigated that?” He gestures to the couch. “You or him?”

“It
was mutual,” I reply defensively.

He
opens his mouth and then closes it quickly, as though trying to choose the
right words. That doesn’t happen that often. Ryke speaks on impulse with me.
Finally he lands on this: “Are you okay?”

My
lips part, not able to say anything, half out of shock.

“Don’t
look so fucking surprised,” he says. “I care about you. It’s just…Lo has been
in a bad place. All my concern has been directed towards him for a while.”

“Mine
too.” Slowly, I sit up and hug one of the pillows to my chest, able to sit
Indian style well enough. It’s not so bad. “I’m really worried about him.” I
pause, collecting my thoughts. “He told me that he’s going out west with you
and Connor, on a road trip, instead of going to rehab.” When he uttered those
words, I started to cry. Anytime we’re separated it feels like someone has
ripped a piece of me away, but this time, the tears were more from the shock of
the situation. The longer we sat and discussed it, the more it felt right.

I
hope that when he returns he’ll be in a much better place, enough to handle
more news. I’m not even sure if keeping this secret will be easier or harder
with him absent.

“I
didn’t think rehab was a smart choice,” Ryke says. “Not with the press. I don’t
think he can deal with more attention from the media.”

“I
know,” I say, remembering every headline about his hospital trip. It’s bad
enough that he broke his sobriety and landed there, but to have the whole
nation in on it—it’s ten times worse. It made his recovery harder, and it was
one reason why he drank again afterwards. He even told me so. “Thanks for
that.” I look to Ryke. “For offering an alternative.”

He shrugs
like it’s nothing. But it’s not nothing. I saw the relief in Lo’s eyes when he
told me about this pseudo-rehab away from cameras and the press.

Ryke
takes a seat beside my feet, and he runs his hand through his dark brown hair.
“Do you miss public sex or something?”

“Huh?”
I frown at the quick subject change and tense at the actual topic.

“You
were practically fucking in the living room,” he says, keeping eye contact with
me. Which makes the awkwardness amplify by about ten notches. “Is it because you
miss it? The public sex, I mean.”

I
sometimes forget that Ryke is comfortable by most things. “Yeah…I miss it a
lot,” I lie. The truth: Lo and I had sex in the pool a few weeks ago while
Connor and Rose spent a long weekend in London.

“You
know that you shouldn’t be ashamed of liking it. It’s not wrong,” he tells me.
This is definitely a Ryke Meadows ploy to make me comfortable.

My
cheeks heat. Half out of embarrassment and the other half out of fear. This is
not how I want Ryke to discover my “extra sex” secret. He can learn the same
way as Rose, when I eventually tell him that I’m pregnant.

“Not
that this makes me a sex addict,” he prefaces, “but I prefer to have sex in
places besides a bed.”

I
perk up, more interested.
I knew it.
All
of those bathroom breaks with Melissa during a Cancun trip years ago suddenly
make more sense. He even did it on the plane. It’s very rare for me to find
someone who enjoys these things. Maybe because I just don’t talk about sex all
that much.

“Like
where?” I ask.

“I’ve
fucked all over,” he says conversationally. I must admit, he has a gift in
speaking without restraint or shame. It’s like he owns who he is to the fullest
degree.

I
wish I could be like that about sex. But I think it’s a little different being
a girl.

“The
beach,” he lists.

I
shake my head. “Sand is evil.”

“But
in the early morning, it’s so fucking beautiful.”

I
can’t recall a morning beach hookup for myself. Night, most definitely.

“Bathrooms,”
he continues.

“Even
the dirty ones?” I ask.

He
shrugs. “Honestly, I don’t really notice.” He adds, “Parks, elevators, golf courses,
locker rooms, the woods—love the woods.”

“Did
you ever have sex at your high school?” I ask.

He
nods. “Under the bleachers like a cliché.”

I
smile. “Me too.”

He
raises his water bottle in a toast.

“Lo
and I had sex in a movie theater once,” I tell him. “He actually bought every
ticket just so we could do it.”

Ryke’s
brows shoot up. “Before you went into recovery, I assume.”

I
nod. It was when he wanted to satiate my every whim and desire, which turned
into one big enabling factory. But it was fun. I can’t deny that. Even though
we’re having public sex, I doubt Lo would ever buy out a theater again. Some
things go too far.

“I
fucked this gypsy at a carnival once,” he says, his arm stretching over the
back of the couch, “right underneath her table. We knocked over the crystal
ball.” He smiles at the memory like it’s a good one. Like the whole event was
more than just a climax for him. That’s not how I ever saw sex. I didn’t seek out
wild places to fuck. They were just convenient at the time. Settings to get me
what I wanted.