Addicted After All (Addicted #3)(20)

Stop, Lily.

“I can multitask,” he says, checking the rearview again. “Connor Cobalt didn’t patent that skill—goddammit.”

The stupid van has caught up to our car, and I squirm uneasily in the seat. Lo looks to me for a second, “Lil.”

I flinch at his reprimanding tone. My hand is creeping like a criminal between my legs. Nonono. I raise my palms in the air, surrendering. “I’m fine. I promise.”

His concern has elevated to extreme proportions. “Maybe we shouldn’t go to this meeting—”

“Nonono. I can do this. Lo, please.” My eyes widen like believe in me.

He studies my state of being, his gaze flitting from the road to me. And then he nods. “Hey, bro,” he calls back to Ryke. “I’m going to pull off the side of the road. Lil and I are going to switch with you and Daisy.”

“Fine with me,” Ryke says, actually looking happy about driving.

Lo is this worried about my anxiety. “I’m okay,” I try to convince him.

“I lied,” Lo tells me, slowing down onto the emergency lane. He parks the Audi and snaps off his buckle. “I can’t multitask.”

Oh. I lick my dry lips. “Okay.”

I unclick my seatbelt. The van parks ahead of us, the doors already opening. We’re on public property so they have every right to take photos. By the time we all step out of the Audi, two cameramen have left their van to snap pictures.

“Lily, look right here,” one of them calls out.

I’ve learned not to take the camera bait, focusing on Lo’s car and nothing else.

As Ryke passes his brother, he flips off both camera guys, and the flashbulbs blink repeatedly.

“Is Lily pregnant with your baby?” one asks Ryke.

“Daisy, how do you feel about Ryke sleeping with your sister?”

My stomach somersaults. I hate that she’s still being affected by my mistakes.

Except for Ryke’s middle fingers, none of us answer the paparazzi. We slip into our new seats, and Lo immediately wraps his arm around my waist, his hands in mine. It’s affection and touch that calms my nerves by a few degrees.

Ryke and Daisy buckle their seatbelts, and then Daisy reaches deep into Ryke’s front pocket…

Uhhh…I grow unexpectedly hot, and I can’t tell if it’s from embarrassment or something worse. I try to convince myself it’s the former.

I look around to see if anyone notices what she’s doing, but Lo is texting, probably his father. And Ryke is adjusting his seat and mirrors.

Daisy retrieves Ryke’s smart phone and plugs it into the stereo. I relax a little. My mind is a dirty, dirty place.

“You two…” Ryke rotates to look at me and his little brother. “Put your f*cking seatbelts on.”

“Just don’t kill me,” Lo says as we both buckle. “I’m too young to die.” He flashes his signature half-smile.

Ryke reverses the car, even with one hand on the wheel. He drives with much more precision than Lo, but Ryke succumbs to road rage the fastest out of everyone. In my opinion, it’s not a very good tradeoff.

Daisy chooses a song I vaguely recall, and I spot the title in the dashboard screen: “Dark Center of the Universe” by Modest Mouse. I bet it’s more of a “Ryke” song since she usually goes for the upbeat tunes and less angsty ones.

The moment Ryke shifts the car out of reverse, we go from zero to I’m-gonna-die. I wrap my arm around my belly and then clutch Lo’s leg.

“He’s gonna kill us,” I whisper-hiss to Lo.

He’s too busy watching the cameramen jump back into their van to reply.

“There aren’t any cops in twenty miles,” Daisy tells Ryke.

I frown. “How do you know that?”

She waves her cell. “An app.”

My daredevil little sister would have an app alerting her of nearby policemen.

“Bonnie and Clyde,” Lo says dryly, “we’re not robbing a bank. And really, I don’t want to know what gets you off. K, thanks.”

Ryke leans forward to look out the window. “Motherf*ckers.”

Yep, they’ve caught up to us.

He steps on the gas, and my lungs suddenly rocket to my throat. “OhmyGodohmyGod.” This is like one of those theme rides in amusement parks—the ones where I end up peeing a little bit because I’m terrified of heights.

Only this is worse because Ryke is operating the machinery.

He slams on the brakes. “Hold on,” he tells us, the warning coming way too late.

I think I just peed. I check my crotch. Not that much. Thank God.

Lo clasps my hand while the van speeds ahead and Ryke swerves through the grassy median into the lanes going the other way. Now we’re headed in the opposite direction of the van. And the country club.

Daisy is not only smiling like this is the best experience she’s had all week, but she lowers the window and sticks her hand out.

They are really meant for each other.

“You both are insane,” Lo says matter-of-factly. “You shouldn’t worry about children because I don’t think either of you will live long enough to have any.”

Daisy mock gasps. “Too late. I’m already pregnant.”

“Cute, Calloway,” Ryke says, speeding up and pulling off the nearest exit so he can go a new way. He’s still speeding.