Addicted After All (Addicted #3)(42)

Where I’m reaching for a dildo instead of sunglasses.

Where Loren and Ryke are cropped out and replaced by hot dogs.

It’s awful. Though their photoshop skills are pretty good. I have to give them credit for that.

“Connor,” Rose says, her lounge chair scooted next to his. A paperback perched on his lap, his hand has yet to leave her bare neck. He massages her while she clutches an empty ice bucket. Rose risked vomiting again to join me outside.

It takes a solid second to realize that Rose commanded him to do something since she’s out of commission. Connor needs no more info to read her well.

He just stretches forward and steals my phone right from me. And then he settles back, his hand returning to Rose like nothing just happened.

“That was mean,” I tell him. “I was doing important research.”

“If I didn’t do it, she would’ve tried,” Connor explains, passing the cell to my sister. “And I don’t want my wife moving around.”

Rose searches through the phone’s history and then gives me a cold look.

I raise my hands out of the pool. “They were hard to avoid.”

“The more you stare at these, the more paranoid you become. If anyone is jumping overboard, it’s me.” She went from slaughtering the boat to drowning herself. I take it that she’s feeling pretty lousy still.

Connor flips a page in his book and says something in French.

She replies back, shutting her eyes tightly. He pulls her closer to his side, his arm sliding around her shoulders. Hugging her in comfort. He whispers another French word and then kisses her forehead.

I frown, wishing I could understand them. Even with my studying, I can only pick up a few words here and there. I block the sun with my fingers and scrutinize the spine on Connor’s book. A smile replaces my frown. It’s C.S. Lewis’ The Voyage of the Dawn Treader.

For Christmas, I gifted Connor the entire Chronicles of Narnia series. Normal people ask for things they want for Christmas, but Connor asked us to gift him things we like. He consumed Lo’s present—G.R.R. Martin’s Song of Fire and Ice series—in a matter of three weeks. Now he must be working on my gift.

With a happier mood, my gaze drifts and lands on Ryke and Daisy, both of which sit on the silver railing near the stern. We’re anchored, so the yacht doesn’t wobble too badly. Daisy takes off her shirt, and Ryke wears her hairband around his wrist. Her blonde hair and dyed green tips are tangled and slightly frizzy.

I’m too far away to pick up their conversation, though Ryke smiles and that says enough.

“They’re a good couple,” I say aloud. And then I turn back to Rose and Connor, leaning my arms against the ledge. “Why does the media insist on destroying something beautiful?”

Rose slips her Chanel sunglasses on, her knee curved towards Connor, almost lying on her side. She seems more relaxed though.

Connor glances at Rose, his hand placed on her thigh. “Is this a rhetorical question?”

“I think so.”

It wasn’t, but maybe there isn’t an answer.

Connor ditches his book to scroll through his phone, glimpsing at Rose every half minute to check on her. And when his eyes fix back on the cell, he suddenly frowns. “Lily, did you…” Even though his chair is propped up, he sits even straighter. “You joined Twitter?”

“Just for two seconds,” I say, raising my hands again. It was really hard finding a username since variations of “Lily Calloway” were already taken by fans. I ended up with @lilycallowayX23, and I sent a total of three very important tweets.

“Right now?” he asks. “You joined Twitter five minutes ago, while we were all sitting here?”

I squint. “Is this a rhetorical question?”

Rose snatches his phone to confirm. “I don’t understand why you always use that OTP thing.”

“Because it’s awesome,” I say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I had to let the Twitterverse know that I am one-hundred percent in support of Team Raisy.” Our publicists should’ve thought of this strategy months ago. I’m only helping.

And these should clear up my stance on the matter. Tweet 1: This is the official Twitter account of Lily Calloway. Hooray!

I had to announce myself.

Tweet 2: #Raisy is my favorite OTP. I ship it.

Tweet 3: Ryke & Daisy are cuter than cute right now. #Raisy is alive.

I will make this trend. No more stupid “Raisy is dead” anymore.

“I know I didn’t pass it by the publicist,” I say, “but it really can only help.”

Connor and Rose suddenly go quiet and very still. They exchange a few words in French to each other, and she delicately passes him his phone back.

I frown. “What?”

They’re holding hands now. Like a united force.

My heart thuds.

Connor actually removes his sunglasses, his blue eyes very calm. It makes me less nervous. “Lily,” he says, “it sort of seems like you’re trying too hard. Does that make sense?”

“She understands,” Rose tells him. “You don’t have to talk down to her.”

I don’t understand though. “I’m just expressing myself.”

“You need to tweet more then,” he tells me. “Because the way this comes across—it makes it look like you’re trying to cover up something.”