Addicted to You (Addicted #1)(56)

“Well, I decided to hire a tutor for econ.”

“Oh, that’s great. How’d your exam go?”

“Eh, not sure. Hopefully I passed.” I bring my feet up on the chair cushion. “You know the tutor though.”

“What,” she deadpans. “Who?”

“Connor Cobalt.”

She shrieks. I have to hold the phone away from my ear. “That mother fu…” She continues her string of expletives ending with, “asshole, he’s tutoring you?”

“Yep.”

“You know, my team beat him at the last Academic Bowl tournament, but he was obsessed with the fact that he knew some 18th century British philosopher who influenced Freud. He wouldn’t shut up about it.” She’s foaming at the mouth. “He’s so annoying, but you probably already know that.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Better not take sides on this one.

“You should dump him and find someone else.” She pauses. “It’ll probably do wonders to his ego. You know, I’m always available.”

At this, an incoming call starts ringing, disrupting my talk with Rose. I glance down and see CONNOR COBALT in big letters. Uh… “Hey, Rose, I’ll have to call you back. We’ll talk more later. Someone’s on the other line.”

“Lo? You’re seriously going to hang up on me for him right now.”

“No, actually it’s—”

She gasps. “No. You are not ditching me for Richard.”

I laugh at his real first name. “I’ll talk to you later. He probably just wants to know how I did.”

“Lily,” she warns.

“Bye, Rose,” I say quickly, switching lines. “Hi, Connor.”

“Estimated grade?”

I sigh. The exam was hard, and I have no idea whether I passed or tanked. “An A,” I joke.

He sounds like he’s walking hurriedly on campus, places to go, people to see. Hey, kind of like Rose. I inwardly smile. “You’ll make an A in econ when I piss glitter, but if you feel confident about it, that’s what matters.”

“Thanks, Connor.”

“About tonight, I’ll swing by your place around ten, and my driver can take us to the party from there…” His voice trails off, distracted. “Hey, Lily, your sister is calling me.” Oh my God, she is not.

“I hung up on her to talk to you,” I say quickly. “How does she even have your number?”

“She probably called someone who has it,” he says, not sounding surprised at all. “I should answer this.”

“Good luck.”

“I’m not scared of her,” he laughs. “See you tonight, Lily.” My phone beeps, going silent.

Lo exits the classroom from across the hall and waves to me. I stand and follow him out of the building. We make a conscious effort to not talk about grades or the exam, lest it ruin the mood and Lo’s birthday.

When we reach the Drake, I hide inside the guest room, clumsily putting on my old superhero costume. I avoid all mirrors. The leather fits more tightly than I remember and my whole midriff is exposed to the world.

I sit on the bed, hunched over to hide my skin.

The door creaks and Lo sticks his head in. “Hey there.” He enters, proudly adorning red spandex with black sides, a large belt around his waist, and a giant X on his chest. He looks badass, especially with the way the sleeves are cut at the bicep, showing off his sharp muscles.

“You look like a wilted flower,” he tells me. Before I can protest, he lifts me by the hips off the bed and holds my wrists from covering my bare stomach. “You’re hot, Lil,” he whispers in my ear and then kisses me on my temple.

“Where’s my cape?” Despite the soft kisses on the nape of my neck, I can’t think of anything but the outfit.

“X-23 doesn’t have a cape.” He sucks my ear lobe, and his hand slides down the leather, to my thigh and then…

I gasp. “Lo…” I grip his arms tight and bite my lip.

He twirls me around and aims me towards my floor length mirror. Sneaky. “If you’re uncomfortable, you can change. I’m not forcing you to wear it, but you do look beautiful. See.”

I stare at the long plastic “knives” poking out between my fingers. I can’t see my ribs, which is a plus. Like I need any skeletal jokes during Halloween. I suppose the outfit makes my breasts look a little bigger than normal. But I still don’t like the way the leather rides up my crotch. There’s nothing I can do about that now, and I want to try to be confident in my skin for Lo. It’s his birthday after all.

“I suppose a cape would be sacrilege,” I say.

He spins me back and kisses me hungrily, his fingers leading a fiery trail down my bare stomach. I pull away as they dip below my latex pants again.

“Lo,” I say in a ragged breath. “It took you an hour to put your suit on.” Lo gained muscles in the past few years, and while I was glaring at my costume on the hanger, he asked me if I had any oil so he could slip on his outfit more easily. He ended up rubbing Hale Co. baby oil all over, but it slid on, doing its trick.

Another change from the last time—his lower area seems to be way more prominent. Or maybe I refused to look last time. I try to avert my eyes, but I can’t help but stare every so often.