Thrive (7 page)

“You sound awfully defensive.”

I stop dead in my tracks, the cameras clicking, and now the
real press shows up, pushing through glass double doors, padding along the ugly
hotel carpet. About to bombard us.

“Come on, Loren,” Rose says under her breath. She grips my
forearm tightly and literally pulls me into the elevator. Before the doors
shut, two people sprint towards us, a girl cradled in a guy’s arms. I
repeatedly push the button to close the metal doors. But I stop the moment they
slip inside, when I recognize the girl with the bright orange wig and the guy
with the green leather jacket.

“Finally we fucking found you,” Ryke says, his arm
underneath Daisy’s legs and against her back. At first I think they’re playing
around, but Daisy wears a faint, pained expression.

I frown. “What happened?”

Ryke very carefully places her feet on the ground, and she
leans her weight against him. “She popped her knee out of the socket doing a
fucking backflip,” he explains.

“I was in character,” she adds, bending down to massage her
knee.

“Hey, stop, Dais.” He moves her hand away. “Wait for some
ice first.” He looks up at me and then completely freezes when he sees Rose.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she snaps.

“You’re wearing Lily’s costume,” is all he can fucking say.
He’s staring at Rose like he wants to bang her.

I smack the back of his head.

He blinks a few times, as though it just now registers in
his brain who she is, along with her boyfriend’s identity. “I’m just fucking
surprised. Give me a minute to process this.”

Rose fixes the wig on her head. “Process it and then move
on.” She looks to a confused Daisy. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you in the
room.” She asks, “Where’d you run off to anyway?”

“Outside,” she tells her. “I just needed some fresh air.”
The elevator abruptly stops on our floor, and Daisy almost topples over,
teetering on one leg. Without asking, Ryke swiftly lifts Daisy back in his
arms. A smile spreads across her face.

I internally shake my head. Then my phone buzzes in my belt,
distracting me. I take it out.

This is the second
best day of my life. The director just accidentally touched my pinky finger!!!!
– Lily

I smile so goddamn much that I can hear my father yelling at
me for it. He used to do that when I was a kid.
Be serious for once in your fucking life, Loren.

My lips fall. I text back:
What’s the first best day?
I press send in an instant.

She’s quick to reply.

The day I fell in love
with you.
– Lily

I shut my eyes for a second, and I try to remember that day.
I try to transport my mind back to that place. But for every warmth there is
cold. For every ounce of light there is blackness.

And for every happy memory, there is grief and pain.

I can’t remember that day without crawling through it all.

So I open my eyes, and I let it drift away.

It’s okay.

I’m going to make new best days with Lily Calloway.

I can feel it.

{ 9 }

0 years : 03 months

November

LILY CALLOWAY

Our annual Thanksgiving tradition has been put to
rest, buried with other normal things that I can no longer do. We usually have
a pre-meal at Lucky’s Diner before eating with our families, but I haven’t been
back in three months: my twenty-first birthday when the manager refused to
close the blinds.

Last Thanksgiving, the only people who knew about my sex
addiction were Rose, Connor, and Ryke. Before all of that, we used to just sit
at a family dinner table, carrying a lie in our hearts. Now that my addiction
is out in the open, the event has been more awkward and uncomfortable for every
person involved.

My mom hasn’t even looked at me, and the weight only slowly
ascends off my chest when we take a break before coffee and dessert.

“Are we having a sister powwow?” Daisy asks as she jumps on
our father’s oak desk.

Rose said she had something important to tell us, so the
four of us retreated to the study before our mom calls us back for pie.

I sit on the uglier paisley armchair, a spring hurting my
butt. I silently wish for the Hale’s leather couches that I can sink into.

“Did Connor propose?” Poppy asks, a smile already enveloping
her face. She crosses her legs on the suede couch.

Rose flinches back in surprise. “Of course not.”

I try to adjust on the chair. Nope, the spring is definitely
going to bruise my ass after this.

Poppy says, “I thought you were scared of babies, not
matrimony.”

“First of all”—Rose paces in front of us—“I am
not
scared of babies. I hate babies.
They scream for no reason and can’t walk properly.”

I shake my head.

Daisy laughs, swinging her legs and tossing a crystal
paperweight in her hand.

“They’re little—” Poppy tries to justify.

“Devils. They’re little devils that only exist to annoy me.”

She’s too dramatic for her own good.

“And strangely,” Poppy says, “Maria adores you out of every
person in the family. Why is that?”

“I don’t know. That’s obviously a character flaw on your
daughter’s part. She can’t tell who her enemies are.”

I snort.

Poppy sighs heavily and then looks to me. “Is she afraid of
marriage?” She wants a confirmation since I’m the closest to Rose.

I hold up my hands. “I know nothing.” I wait for someone to
mention Jon Snow and
Game of Thrones
,
but I realize that Lo’s the only one who’d understand the reference. Wrong
audience. And he’s in the den with Connor and Sam.

Ryke was invited, seeing as how he’s not on speaking terms
with his mom, but he refused to come. He said that he couldn’t be in the same
room as Jonathan Hale, his father. There’s still bad blood there, but I wish
he’d show up for Lo and for himself.

I picture Ryke all alone at his apartment, watching sports
and eating a sandwich, no big fancy dinner. No family or companions, not even
the loud, rowdy kind. There’s something sad about Ryke Meadows that he won’t
let us see, but its quiet moments like this, where he’s gone, that I feel it
anyway.

“…we haven’t even had sex.” I catch the tail end of Rose’s
explanation.

“Yeah,” Daisy says, “but I thought you were just waiting
until marriage.”

Rose pauses in the middle of the floor. “I’m waiting until
I’m ready and with someone I love,” she refutes. “I’m not even sure I
want
to be married. And Connor wouldn’t
propose just so he can have sex with me.”

“How do you know?” Poppy asks.

Rose shoots her a scathing glare.

She’s as used to them as the rest of us. “I’m just asking.”

“It’s like cheating at a game,” she says. “It’s too easy for
him.”

Their weird relationship deserves to be observed. By me. I
love it too much not to be a spectator. My smile consumes my face the longer I
think about Connor and Rose’s back-and-forth nerd wars.

Rose rolls her eyes at me and starts pacing again.

“Why are we here then?” I wonder.

She pulls her shoulders back like she’s layering on armor.
“As you know, Calloway Couture has been doing less than average lately.”

My stomach immediately plummets, my smile fading, and turkey
starts rising to my throat. I swallow it back down. Apologies swim in my head.

It’s my fault. My sex addiction ruined her fashion line.
There is no forgiveness for me, and I don’t want it.

She continues on, “I’ve been struggling with serious
solutions, but recently, someone made an offer that might actually work. The
only problem is that it involves the three of you.” Her yellow-green eyes ping
from me to Poppy and then to Daisy. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re
uncomfortable with. I’ll understand if you say no.”

“Sounds dangerous,” Daisy says with a mischievous smile.
“Color me intrigued.”

“Sounds like
nothing
,”
I correct her. “She hasn’t said it yet.”

“What is ‘it’ exactly?” Poppy asks with air quotes.

“A reality show.”

My mouth immediately falls.

The room cakes in thick silence, but not the awkward kind.
We’re all processing. And if we were in an
X-Men
comic right now, Poppy, Daisy and I would be the cuckoo sisters—thinking
the exact same thing with their creepy telepathic hive-mind. There is no other
response to Rose’s proclamation.

“You’re insane,” Poppy says first.

I mock gasp. “That’s what I was thinking.”

“Me too,” Daisy agrees and gives me a side-eye. “And you
stole my mock gasp.”

Rose waves us off, as if commanding us to stop talking. “I’m
not insane. Calloway Couture needs good exposure, and I may be rolling the dice
with this show, but it’s
something.
”
Her eyes travel to me. “And maybe the world can see you how we do. Funny,
sweet, and not just a sex addict.”

Can that really happen? Won’t a reality show just place a
bigger spotlight on our family? But…Rose is the genius…so she should know
better, right? If it’ll help my sister, I won’t ever say no.

I put her in this position to begin with.

“Okay,” I nod. “Let’s do it.”

Rose steps back like I exploded a bomb at her feet. Jeez,
she must have been expecting a fight. “Really? You can take more time to think
about it, Lily. It’ll be a big change.”

A big change.
I
hate those. But sometimes change can be good, right? That’s what my therapist
tells me. “No.” I shake my head. “I don’t need more time. If there’s a chance
this’ll help Calloway Couture, then I want to be involved.”

“I’m in,” Daisy tells us. “It sounds like fun, and besides,
I’m used to cameras. So it’s not a big deal for me.”

Cameras…

More of them.

Don’t think about it,
Lily.

We all turn to our oldest sister, who just sits on the couch
in silent contemplation. She lets out a long sigh. “Why can’t the show just be
about you, Rose?” she asks.

“The production company pitched that idea to the network,
and they didn’t bite.” She holds in a breath, her collarbones protruding. “They
wanted Lily in the show.” She takes a step towards me. “I don’t want to lie to
you. You should know that the show will try to focus more on you than any of
us—even if they’re calling it
Princesses
of Philly.
”

Before I can assure her again, Poppy blazes ahead of me. “Is
this really the only thing you can do?” she asks. “It seems drastic, and I’m
concerned about Lily’s safety.”

“I would
never
intentionally
put Lily in harm’s way,” Rose says. “I’ve tried everything, Poppy.” Is Rose
about to cry? “This is my only chance.”

Poppy’s maternal side has kicked in, and she won’t back down
yet. “So you’re going to put the family under more scrutiny, all to save your
fashion line?”

The loyal part of me almost comes to Rose’s aid, who rarely
ever cries. But she’s ready with a quick response. I realize that she’s
prepared for this type of questioning. “I’ve talked with our parents. They both
support the idea. They’ve consulted the publicists who believe we can’t sink
much further, and maybe the media attention will finally be positive.” She
pauses to take a much needed breath. “So
yes,
Poppy, I’m willing to put our family under more scrutiny. For Fizzle. For
Lily. And selfishly, for my fashion line.”

 
Poppy relaxes a
little more, and she fixes her brown hair off her shoulder. “Honestly, I wish I
could just say
yes.
I want to stand
by your side and support you, Rose, but I have a four-year-old daughter. I
don’t want a camera in her face, and neither does Sam.”

“I understand,” Rose says. “I’ll get the contracts to Daisy
and Lily to look over. The show can go on without you.”

I add, “But you will be missed.”

Rose rolls her eyes. “That was implied.”

The sex scandal has rocked my family in so many ways, but I
just now realize that I’m not completely aware of the degree that it’s affected
Poppy. I just kinda hoped, all along, that it didn’t.

“Is she okay?” I ask Poppy, changing the subject again.
“Maria, I mean. Paparazzi aren’t following her around or anything, right?”

“No, nothing like that,” Poppy says. “I think her last name
saved her from the press. Stokes isn’t as volatile as Calloway right now.”

Good. At least one person in my family dodged the speeding
bullet. I just wonder how many bullets a reality show will release, and who
will be caught in the crossfire this time.

{ 10 }

0 years : 04 months

December

LOREN HALE

“Stop calling,” I say with edge into the flip
phone. Lily sits on the kitchen counter, eating peanut butter from a jar. My
gaze lingers on her, especially as she sucks her index finger and lifts her
thin legs to her chest.

My breathing deepens for a second, honing in on the way she
licks the peanut butter off. She hasn’t realized how sexual it looks, and I
bask in this moment—the one before she blushes in embarrassment.

I grab two glasses in the cabinet beside her head, my arm
brushing her cheek. My cock says to walk forward and fit right up against her.
I wait, only to watch her longer. She pops her finger out of her mouth, her
eyes radiating with eagerness when they meet mine. It’s a
come hither
that I return, edging closer. But instead of acting on
her feelings, she tries to focus on the peanut butter.

I set the glasses on the counter and run my hand through the
side of her hair.
Christ, I want inside
of her. Now.
But she ignores the motion and squints at the label on the
jar.

Through the phone’s speaker, Rose’s cold voice disrupts my
thoughts. “You shouldn’t answer Lily’s cellphone. She has two hands.”

“Yeah? Well one is occupied,” I retort.

Lily rests the jar between her knees and lets out an audible
moan with her second scoop of peanut butter.
Goddamn.
My dick screams at me to respond to that noise. I resist,
only because one of the biggest pains in my ass is still on the phone.

“You better not be—”

“She’s eating,” I clarify, though that’s going to change
once I hang up.

“Loren,” Rose snaps.

“She’s not blowing me. For Christ’s sake.”

Lily’s brows jump and her eyes bug. She mouths,
what?
Her gaze falls to the zipper on my
jeans, and she blushes on cue.

I press the speaker button so she can hear her sister. And
then I fish my button through my jeans, Lily’s mouth drops like I performed a
fuckin’ circus trick.

I can’t help but smile. My girlfriend is beyond adorable.

Rose says, “I just want to know—”

“Privacy,” I state the one word that no one seems to
understand, not even our friends and family.
Maybe
Poppy and Sam have their heads screwed on tight, since they
both refused to sign their rights away to television producers.

 
“We asked to be alone
on New Year’s Eve, and you’ve called us a record-breaking twenty times.”

“And Lily didn’t answer eighteen of those,” Rose notes.

“Are you dying?” I ask. “Please tell me you’re dying or
suffering from a life-threatening affliction and not calling to check up on
us.”

Lily mouths,
be nice.
But
she’s ditched the peanut butter, her fingers hooked in my belt loops, drawing
me nearer.

I cup my hand over the speaker. “I’m being
very
nice right now,” I whisper. “I
could have easily hung up on her after I said my piece.” I wait for Rose to
launch a grenade over the speaker, but she stays quiet, inadvertently answering
me.

I groan in agitation. “Rose.”
We’re fine.

Lily grabs the phone out of my hand and interjects, “You’re
at a party. Shouldn’t you be having fun?”

“I’m at the Cobalt’s
business
party,” Rose reminds her. “Having fun at these events is never on the
agenda.” She pauses. “The food isn’t terrible.” She hesitates like she has more
to say. Maybe she wasn’t calling to nag us like a worried parent.

Now I feel like an asshole.

“What is it?” Lily asks, sensing the same thing.

I rest my palms on the counter, on either side of Lily. I’m
still a head taller than her, and she stares up at me while she waits for her
sister to reply.

I watch her chest collapse, desire blanketing her face. I
just want to fuck my best friend.
Hurry
up, Rose.

“Connor booked the suite tonight,” Rose whispers, as though
to keep the people around her from hearing. “I found out when we arrived.”

I run my hands up Lily’s thighs, her jeans soft underneath
my palms. I step closer so my cock is right against that spot, the one I know
is already soaked.
Christ.
I begin to
harden, just ready to push completely inside of her. We fucked twice already
tonight—but this time is killing me more than the others.

I just want to hear Lily cry out.

Her lips part in a heavy breath.

“Lily?” Rose snaps, ice returning to her voice.

I remove my hands so she can talk to her sister, but I can’t
back up. I lick my lips and rest my palms on the cabinet beside her head,
leaning into her.

“What’s…so bad about that?” Lily asks. She forces her gaze
to the ceiling so she can focus. I press my lips to her neck, lightly and then
deeply. A noise catches in her throat just in time, so soft her sister can’t
hear.

Lily’s hand tightens on my waist, and when I look up at her,
she mouths,
do you want to get caught?

No.

Rose and Ryke—they won’t understand. All they’ll see is a
list of rules we’ve been given and tally off how many we’ve broken. Nothing
else will matter.

I hear Rose inhale loudly. “Yesterday, I made this grand
statement about how I’m ready to have sex with him—just to shut him up—and now
I think he’s calling out my bluff.”

I can solve this problem. I glance at the phone in Lily’s
hand. “Just tell Connor that you changed your mind. He won’t care.”

“He’ll
win
,” Rose
says like that’s the stupidest idea.

“So what?”

Rose growls. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Lily mouths,
I got
this.

Great. Because I don’t speak Rose’s language.

Lily clears her throat. “Put him in a really uncomfortable
position and then he’ll freak out and you both will be off the hook.”

I can practically feel Rose shaking her head. “Trust me,
he’s not uncomfortable in any position.”

“How about just castrating him?” I chime in. “You threaten
my
balls every day.”

“That’s because they’re hanging around my sister,” Rose
snaps. I hate that she makes a good point. “And you have full right to threaten
my eggs or fallopian tubes. Have at them.”

I grimace. “I’m not going anywhere near your vagina.”

Rose says distantly, “I’m just trying to be fair.”

Lily thinks hard, her brows pinched in this adorable way. “I
don’t know, Rose. You may lose this one. I mean…you can’t go home with another
guy…” Lily lets that terrible option drift in the air.

And her sister stays completely silent on the matter.

“Rose!” both Lily and I yell.

“I wouldn’t cheat on him,” Rose says. “That’s disgusting.
He’s just staring at me right now.” Her voice lowers. “I think he can read my
expression.”

“Your bitch face?”

“
No,
” Rose drags
out the word. “…I’m scared.”

I regret my words as soon as I hear her honesty. It doesn’t
come often, especially not around me. “Rose,” I say, trying to soften my edged
voice. “Sex is a big deal, and you shouldn’t sleep with Connor if you’re
afraid.”

“Why are you being nice to me?”

“I don’t know,” I admit.
It
feels weird.

“Well…I don’t like it.”

I glare at the phone. “Good because it’s not happening
again.”

“Thanks,” she says. I can’t tell if it’s for the advice or
for my last statement. “He’s walking over here…I’ll call you later ton—”

“Tomorrow,” I force.

“Right,” she says distractedly. And then she hangs up first.

I slide Lily’s flip phone down the counter, to the coffee
pot,
away
from us. “No more sisterly
or brotherly interruptions.” I announce this as a fucking rule. Ryke has called
three times tonight to ask how I’m doing. I spent last New Year’s Eve in rehab.
It’s not like I’m going to grab a bottle of champagne because the day of the
year tells me to.

“Do you remember before we were together?” Lily asks as I
unbutton her jeans.

I freeze. “You mean when I was piss drunk?”

“No, I mean…yes, but that’s not what I meant.” Her skin
blotches with dark red patches.

I lace my hand with hers. “I’m listening.”

Her shoulders rise with confidence as she speaks. “You used
to do this with me all the time,” she says. “Pin me in the kitchen, toy with
me…” She smiles at the memories. “I liked it, even when we weren’t together.
But this is rare now.” Her eyes dance around our bodies. “I just wondered if
you’re afraid of teasing me.”

I lift her chin so her gaze meets mine. “If I was afraid, I
wouldn’t be doing it tonight.”

“But we’re going to have sex,” she says.

“Yeah?” I frown, not understanding what she’s getting at.

“So you won’t flirt with me unless we can have sex. Because
you’re afraid of me.”

I glare. “Can you stop saying that? I’m not fucking scared
of you, Lil.”

“Then you’re afraid of enabling me.”

I shake my head. All I’ve wanted is to be with her
completely, fully, without compromise. But maybe there’s a signal in my brain
that says:
Don’t touch her like that.
Don’t make her hornier than she is. Don’t tempt her.
Not unless she can
have something more afterwards. “Can you handle me?” I ask lowly.

“I want to start trying,” she says, her chest elevating at
the proclamation. “I want to have everything we had without all the bad.”

I’ve never been more in love with her. “I’m going to trust
you to stop on your own then.”

She nods repeatedly. “I will. I can. I know I can.”

“Yeah?”

She smiles. I kiss her deeply, her body pulling towards mine
with the embrace, and I pin our clasped hand to the cupboard above her head.

As she catches her breath, my forehead rests against hers.
Softly, I whisper, “I believe in you, love.” This is a goal I’ve never heard
her make. It’s one I’ll entertain and help her reach.

But tonight—I want to fit perfectly against her with no room
for hesitation or fears. I slip the jeans off her legs and step out of mine.

She slides her hands underneath my shirt with a heady gaze.
“Can I take your shirt off?”

“You don’t have to ask,” I say.

Her lips curve up, and she hungrily raises the fabric over
my head. Her fingers comb through my brown hair. “Closer,” she whispers.

I grab her legs and yank her towards me, my cock between her
legs. The fabric of our underwear is in the way. She holds onto my bare
shoulders like I’ve already started driving into her. This is the only time that
I’m glad she bites her nails. Otherwise, she would draw blood.

She clings to me so tightly that I have no chance of
removing her V-neck shirt unless I ask. I’d rather keep her in my arms, like
this, than have her completely naked.

Lily rests her cheek on my chest and whispers, “Closer.”

I suck on the base of her neck, and she whimpers and gasps
at once. Her ass barely rests on the counter. I support most of her weight with
my body. If someone wanted to tear us apart, they’d have to claw her off of me.

I grin as I kiss her lips. Heat gathers between us. The nerve-splitting
sensations start before I even push in.

“Closer,” is all she can say.

Almost.

I take off my boxer-briefs and slip off her panties. Her
need is apparent when I distance our bodies. She squirms like she hates the
empty air.

Her arms hook underneath mine, and her beautiful green eyes
remain fixed on my amber irises. Overwhelmed. Both of us.

“Closer,” she breathes.

And I grab my shaft and slowly push my erection deep inside
of her.
God.
 
My eyes almost roll back in my head.

She cries out, “Lo!”

I rest our clasped hand back on the cupboard. “Lil…” I
thrust against her, so deep that a groan scratches my throat. With our bodies
melded together, she stares straight into me. I rock, barely able to separate from
her.

She kisses me first, and my smile disappears to carnal
desire. I hold the back of her head, my tongue parting her lips and sliding
against hers. Lily’s confidence, during sex, has been lost for a while. It’s
nice to see it start to return.

I thrust hard again, and she breaks away to let out a sharp
moan. No one else is listening in. When filming begins for the reality show—our
audience will multiply unless we’re careful. In this moment, it doesn’t matter
though.

We just let go.

After we both reach that peak, I keep her in my arms and
comb her damp hair out of her face. The television plays a New Year’s Eve
concert in the living room, the faint sounds now audible in our silence.

“I love you,” I tell her. Even though I say those words
often after we have sex, she still glows when it reaches her ears.

“I love you too.”

Just as I go to kiss her again, the front door creaks open.

Rose.
It has to be
Rose. She came home to avoid spending the night in the suite with Connor. It’s
a stupid decision, considering he now lives in this house with us. They even
share a bedroom. What’s so different about a hotel?

Lily’s eyes widen with panic. “Oh my God.”

I’m standing in the kitchen. Buck naked.

While Lily has a shirt on, her panties are littered on the
floor with the rest of our clothes. I lift her off the counter and set her feet
on the ground.

I don’t know why I’m surprised. I have the shittiest luck in
the whole universe. How many guys wake up one day and are told they’re
bastards? How many have their biological mom basically say:
hey, I didn’t want you when you were born nor
do I care about you now?

I’ve been stampeded so many times already; I might as well
brace myself before it happens again.

I zip my pants and turn to Lily and button her jeans. “We’re
fucked,” she hisses.