Addicted After All (Addicted #3)(150)



“That’s fine,” he says.

I drop the phone and press the speaker button. Connor even slips into the kitchen, leaning a shoulder on the door frame. “Where are they?” he asks us.

Ryke must hear the statement because he answers, “We’re spending the night in a hotel downtown. We’ll be back in the morning.”

I nod at this. That’s good. We’ll have time to really fix this place up before Daisy returns.

“How is she?” Rose asks, her voice higher than normal. We all moved in together for Daisy, so that we’d offer her a better kind of security. It hits me all of a sudden.

We failed her. Our whole plan went to shit.

Story of my life.

You think you’ve figured it all out, the one gear in the cog that’ll solve your problems. And it only makes a mess of everything.

Life is a big shitty bag of trial and error. And the error always seems to come at someone’s expense.

“She’s still f*cking rattled,” Ryke tells us. “I’ve calmed her down some…but I think she’ll be better in the morning.”

Lily practically whispers, “Is she going to move out?”

The weirdest feeling washes over me. It takes me a second to process it. Jesus. I don’t want Daisy to move out. Not alone. Not even with my brother. I like having everyone here. One house. Together.

We’re a family.

Ryke lowers his voice. “We’ve been talking about it, but we haven’t made a decision yet.”

“We can move,” Rose suggests, guilt sagging her shoulders.

I shake my head at her like she’s crazy. We’ve spent months putting up with the teenagers and now that it’s ended, we’re going to move? We’ll be dealing with the same shit all over again. No way.

“Daisy doesn’t want you to do that,” Ryke explains.

Lily clears her throat and speaks louder. “We want you both here.”

Rose nods. “I second that.”

“I third it,” Connor says, his lips rising.

“Me too,” I add.

Ryke sounds overwhelmed as he says, “Thanks, guys. See you in the morning.” And he hangs up. I forgot to wish him happy birthday, so I end up texting it.

I can understand what he’s going through. Watching someone you love teeter on the brink of their anxieties and fears. With no real way to fix it. We can only pick them up. Each Calloway girl fights a similar battle in different ways. As I pocket my phone, I catch Lily scratching her arms and I know mine is headed towards that familiar edge.





{ 64 }

LILY CALLOWAY



I can’t sleep. I lie on my side, tangled in the sheet, and I listen to the creaks of the walls, hugging the baby monitor to my chest.

“Lil,” Lo murmurs, his hands on my hips as he spoons me from behind.

“Huh?” An ache pulses between my legs. Ignore, ignore, ignore, I send these signals to my brain. Even if they’re incomputable. They must go there.

“You’re grinding against my dick, love.”

Shit. I stiffen, not wanting to scuttle away from him. I like that he has a strong handhold on my hipbones and that his warm chest presses to my back. My bony butt has betrayed me. And maybe so has my nether region.

“I didn’t mean to.” Anxiety flushes my skin.

“It’s okay.” He props his elbow on the pillow and kisses my cheek. Oh God. I want those lips right on mine.

“Lo,” I whine. I hate my needy voice. I turn my face into my pillow and moan in distress. I’d like to escape my mind tonight. And the best, easiest way to do that is sex. The problem is: I fear for Moffy’s safety, and why do I have to be the weird girl who’d like to drown those worries with a climax?

Lo climbs over me, resting either of his knees on my sides and he flips me on my back. I stare up at him, his sharp jawline that’s visible in our dark bedroom.

Very softly, I say, “I’d like to be normal tonight.”

His brows knot in concern. “You are normal, Lil.”

I shake my head a little. “I want to f*ck you.”

“Funny, I want to f*ck you,” he retorts.

I laugh weakly into an even weaker smile.

“It’s true,” he says in a playful tone. “My best friend—” he pinches my cheeks “—has turned me on since I hit puberty. I love everything about her, and there’s not one day that I go without thinking, I’d like to f*ck that girl.” He lowers his lips, those beautiful pink lips to mine, a breath away, and whispers, “So there.”

I tremble beneath him. “Lo.” Fuck me. I shut down my brain’s naughty request and press the baby monitor to my ear, just in case I missed something.

Lo watches me tentatively. “He’s okay, Lil.” The seriousness floods back to his voice.

“I’m just making sure.”

Before I even finish the words, Lo climbs off me and the bed. He flicks on the lights.

“What are you doing?” I ask, sitting up. He’s wearing black boxer-briefs and sweatpants. Normally he wouldn’t have those, but he’s trying not to dangle the goods in front of an addict. Still though, I stare at his butt and his bulge, depending on which why he turns to me.

Dirty habit.

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