The room is dead silent.
My brother’s face falls.
I go utterly still.
“What?” Ryke says, his hands resting on his head.
Lily’s jaw has dropped to the floor.
And then Daisy straightens up with a playful smile. “Just kidding.”
Ryke lets out a long breath that turns into a growl. “Fucking hell, Daisy. I’ve had about five heart attacks in the past f**king hour.”
“It was a joke,” she says quietly. “You know, the ones where you laugh at the end.”
“I’m not f**king laughing.”
“Wrong crowd,” she says. “I must’ve missed the room with the boyfriend who would’ve laughed.”
“Must be the boyfriend who doesn’t know you that well.” He grabs the papers out of her hand and flips through them. She used the “I’m pregnant” announcement to deflect whatever those papers are about.
Ryke’s features turn grave, and I understand how serious it must be.
“What is it?” Lily asks Daisy.
She shrugs weakly. “They want to put me on some medication again.”
Ryke folds the paper, which must be prescriptions that she’ll need to pick up, and he stuffs it in his back pocket.
My phone buzzes, but so does everyone else’s.
We all check the group text.
Please, one of you, f**king call me. We’ll reschedule the meeting. I just want to know if my grandson’s alive. – Dad
He’d probably be here if traffic wasn’t gridlocked from the wreck. I’m the first to text him back.
Yeah. I hesitate on what else to add, my body binding with more emotion. I try to smother these feelings on instinct. I swallow and type: He’s okay.
10
LOREN HALE
With a grocery bag in hand, I slowly open the door to my bedroom. I hope Lily is either asleep or watching Thor from where we left off—right before she craved apples and cream cheese icing. Both of which, weren’t in the house. I had to take Lily’s car—since mine is out of commission—to make a run to the store.
When I walk through, I see Lil on our bed, my tablet cupped in her hand while her brows furrow. The moment I shut the door, she flinches and hides the tablet beneath the comforters.
Not p**n , is my first and only thought.
“Hiding something?” I ask her.
She holds out her hands for the grocery bag, her eyes widening. I stand at the foot of the bed. She looks ridiculously adorable dressed in her red Spider-Man onesie, pajamas that she bought in college.
“Did you get the icing?” She perks up and reaches for the plastic bag.
I retract my arm, keeping a hard demeanor. “How about we trade? Give me the tablet and I’ll give you the food?”
“I wasn’t doing anything wrong,” she says, but makes no movement to grab the tablet.
I suddenly seize her ankle and tug her to the edge of the bed quickly. The breath rushes out of her, and her eyes land solely on my package. I put my face very close to hers so she stares right into my gaze. “Lily Calloway, are you looking at p**n ?”
“No,” she says. I don’t detect the lie.
“Were you on Tumblr?”
She presses her lips together.
I give her a no-nonsense look. “Lil.”
“Lo.”
I shake my head at her. “What could be so goddamn interesting that you’d risk your precious apples and icing?”
She raises her hands. “I can explain.” Her mouth stays frozen, wide open, and no words escape.
To cut to the chase, I rest a knee on the bed, lean forward and steal my tablet back. She doesn’t even attempt to retrieve it. She just buries her face in the comforter, her cheeks reddening in embarrassment.
I’m more confused. I type in my password on the lock screen. And what pops up is an article, not on Tumblr, titled: Best sex positions during pregnancy.
It’s not even close to being bad.
She mumbles something into the comforter that sounds like, I was just curious.
I take the tub of icing and the tray of sliced apples out of the bag and then roll Lily on her back. She shields her face with her hands.
“I couldn’t help it. I mean, I could, but I just wondered what would feel the best and…and I’m going to stop talking now.”
I straddle her, my knees on either side of her hips, and she peeks out of her fingers, inspecting the icing and the apples in my clutch.
“Am I dreaming?” she whispers.
“No, love.”
She crinkles her nose. “This seems an awful lot like one of my fantasies.” She pauses. “Only you’re supposed to be naked.”
“In time,” I tell her, snapping open the tub of icing.
“So you’re not mad at me?” she asks, propping her body on her elbows.
“I trust you, Lil.” I’d rather her be comfortable when we sleep together than panicked and anxious anyway. I recognize how unfair it must be when I can read all of these sites, have all of this knowledge, and she’s supposedly not allowed any of it—for the sake of not arousing her. We’re going to f**k regardless.
She reddens even more as she whispers, “Are we going to have sex right now?”
“Why are you whispering?” I say. “Are you hiding someone under the bed?”
“No,” she says, watching me dip an apple in icing.
With my other hand, I cup the spot between her legs, and she writhes beneath me, a breathless sound leaving her lips. My c**k throbs a couple times. I’m about to put the apple between her lips, but the moment I lean forward, our window suddenly shatters. I flinch as a projectile thuds hard on the floorboards.
What the hell?
Lily goes rigid in fright, her fingers gripping my biceps.
Climbing off her body, I instinctively position her behind me. “Lil, stay back.” My command is muffled through shouting outside, alarmed voices that echo into our bedroom.
“Come on, go, go!”
“Run. Run! He’s going to see us!”
My pulse is racing with blood-red heat as I start to piece together this incident. A prank. I grind my teeth. A stupid prank. I immediately stand off the bed, and Lily crawls to the edge.
I give her a warning look. “Lily, stay back.” Too much glass litters the floor, and I don’t want her near it. My eyes fall to her abdomen. I have someone else to look out for too. This must trigger a maternal impulse in Lily. She remains still, not following me.
With a pit in my stomach, I step around the sharp shards and pick up a brick, a note attached with a rubber band. I head to the window before I read it, my muscles in taut strands. Right outside, I spot about five teenagers in black hoodies, sprinting across our yard. Floodlights still illuminate the grass.
Only one of the guys turns to look back. And his eyes meet mine. Dead on. I feel how severely sharpened my face is—I sense the malice in my eyes. But it all bleeds away the moment I see the same exact expression in this teenager. The same guy that I grabbed in the street during the paintball prank.
I shake my head at him.
He inhales heavily. And then he sprints away, following his friends. My gaze falls to the cold brick. I snap off the rubber band and unfurl the white paper.
“What does it say?” Lily asks.
Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
Fuck your slut.
We all know your brother will too.
With white knuckles, I crumple the paper, my veins on fire. I suppress this irritation. I hate the three-way rumors, but what I hate more are the ones about our kid belonging to Ryke.