Addicted After All (Addicted #3)(51)

Daisy adds to the group, “I think anything should be game. It usually is.”

“I’m just more reserved around you girls,” Sam realizes.

“Which is why I told you to cover your ears,” I say with less edge.

A light bulb goes off in his head like I get it now. Most of us are too comfortable with each other, and he’s starting to understand that. So he nods but never plugs his ears, taking the risk.

“Okay, I have it,” Lily cuts in, her hands on my knees. She clears her throat. “Rose, what position do you like the best?” Lily smiles more, able to ask this without stumbling over words.

Rose clutches Connor’s hand so forcefully that his skin begins to turn purple. Lily bringing up the sex tapes would’ve been worse for Rose and way more awkward, so Lily went easy.

“My favorite position is Connor’s least favorite position,” she says.

“This isn’t called lie or dare, darling.” Connor fixes her hair over one shoulder, her neck bare.

Rose purses her lips, her collarbones protruding from her black dress. “Fine…my favorite position is missionary.” She pauses briefly. “With a few alternations.”

And just like that—Connor looks ready to f*ck her across the couch.

I can’t shut my mouth. Habit. “Meaning handcuffs, whips and yes sirs.”

Rose lunges for me—what the hell.

I instinctively flinch back while Connor seizes her around the waist—right before she catapults across the f*cking table. She’s incredibly pregnant and acting like she’s a pole jumper in the Olympics.

I give her a weird look. “Way to sacrifice your baby for payback.” It was such a low blow that I regret it the moment it leaves my lips. My heart clenches like it’s skipping five beats at once.

Connor shoots me a single expression that says drop it. He’s holding the back of Rose’s head, and she says something fiercely to him in French.

I look to Ryke.

My brother sighs but ends up ratting them out, “She doesn’t call Connor sir, ever.”

Connor lets annoyance cross his face. He’s not a fan of Ryke understanding their private French conversations. So I’m not surprised when Connor says something in Italian to Ryke. When Ryke responds in the same language, gesticulating like he’s just as pissed, Lily’s eyes grow big.

She extends her arms, almost whacking me in the face. “I thought we said no secret languages?”

I cut in, already sorry I started this string of arguments. “I got it wrong,” I tell Rose. “I accept that. For Christ’s sake, I wouldn’t be surprised if I only got one out of three right.”

Rose stares at me with more confidence in her stiff posture and focused eyes. “Two out of three were right,” she says honestly, owning up to her sexual preferences.

I nod. “I’m not such a loser then,” I say dryly. “Shocking.”

She eases down a little. Look at that, I calmed the ice queen. Who would have thought this day would come?

Lily turns her head and whispers to me, “Maybe you’re inheriting some of Connor’s smart person powers.” She noticed the same thing as me.

I give her a smile. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Or you could’ve had them all this time and you never knew,” she says, her eyes brightening at that idea.

“The former is more probable,” I tell her, expecting her to frown. Instead she clings to me harder, as though saying she loves me all the same.

I take a deep breath, one that releases all kinds of strain.

Seconds later, a server appears, passing out a new rum and Fizz to Poppy, a tequila sunrise to Daisy, and a glass of wine to Connor. Poppy twirls her stir straw in her drink and says to Rose, “Your turn.”

Rose tugs at the hem of her dress and then rotates to Connor. “Truth or dare, Richard?”

“You can’t choose him,” Poppy reminds her. “We’re not letting couples choose their partner.”

Rose rolls her eyes dramatically. “For this absurd rule…” She targets her older sister. “Truth or dare?”

Poppy’s muscles are relaxed from the booze, and she leans into her husband’s chest. Sam and Poppy hug more than they kiss in public, and whenever they start to have an argument, they usually take it to another room. They’re so normal that having them here reminds me how the rest of us ride these extremes of life, rarely wading in the “okay” content state.

Connor is too conceited.

Rose is too high-strung.

Daisy is too wild.

Ryke is too aggressive.

Lily is too awkward.

I’m too hateful.

Sam and Poppy are just right.

And I wonder if they’re the ideal we should all be striving for. Or if we should just accept our nature and continue as we are.

After brief contemplation, Poppy says, “Dare.”

“I dare you to give me a shoulder massage.” Rose snaps her fingers like hurry up.

Of course she’d find a way to benefit from the dare.

Poppy scoots closer to her sister on the couch and starts kneading Rose’s shoulders with her fingers. Rose looks at peace, as though everything worked in her favor.

“Loren,” Poppy says. “Truth or dare?”

I tense. “Truth,” I say, even though dare might be easier for me. I selfishly don’t want to move Lily off my lap for any reason. I like her where she is.