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 f**king 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 f**king 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 f**king 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 f**king 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.