Addicted After All(156)
“You all ready?” Sam asks us. His gaze darts around our bodies, as though searching for—
“Where are your drinks?” Poppy asks with a frown. She shields the sun with her hand. Apparently Maria snapped her sunglasses on the ride here; a sign, Rose said, of their daughter being a bigger terror than hers.
“My hands are full,” Lo lies. But he demonstrates by wrapping his arms underneath the navy-blue sling. Moffy smacks his lips together and then gurgles a noise like ahh.
My smile cannot be stopped.
Connor adds, “Same.” He lifts Jane to illustrate his predicament. Her lips part in a half-sleep, cuddling with her stuffed lion and then tucking into her father’s chest for warmth and security.
Rose scoffs. “You both are seriously using our children as scapegoats?”
Lo flashes her a half-smile. “You’re only bitching because you wish you were holding Jane right now.”
She crosses her arms but doesn’t deny it. Ziff tastes that gross. Last week, Ryke goaded me into trying a sip, and afterwards, I gargled mouthwash for a solid ten minutes to avoid gagging.
It’s not to be sipped a second time. Nope.
Sam collects two bottles from the pyramid, and my eyes pop out again.
“We can’t break the pyramid formation!” I suddenly shout. I even wave my arms spastically. I heat all over in embarrassment.
Sam doesn’t miss a beat. He shoves the bottle in my hand. “There are plenty more to rebuild the pyramid.”
The silver label crinkles against the plastic as I clutch the bottle. The Blue Squall flavor is more like Blood Squall. Maybe if I try imagining myself as a vampire, I’ll have a more delightful experience.
Sam lowers his voice. “You don’t have to drink much. You can even pretend to take sips. We just need pictures, and the public needs to see you too.”
“Wow, Sammy,” Lo says, “you’re a modern day crook.” Lo touches his chest with a free hand. “I’m too honest to associate with people like you.”
Connor arches a single brow, his grin growing. I’d stay to hear Sam’s reply, but I have a feeling he’ll stick with the eye roll.
“I’m going to check on Daisy and Ryke.” I don’t think I said the words loudly enough, but I dart away regardless. I plan to carry the Ziff around and act like it’s delicious.
I near the cliff where Ryke stands. He’s shirtless with low-slung gray shorts and a chalk bag around his waist. He also holds a brunette girl’s hand.
My heart skips, and the sight takes me aback. I stop dead in my tracks.
{ 52 }
LILY CALLOWAY
I focus on the brunette girl.
She rocks on the balls of her feet, restless while she faces the State Park Ranger and my dad.
I blow out a breath.
It’s just Daisy, I remind myself.
It’s been years since her hair has been light brown, her natural color that matches mine, and so I’m still trying to grow used to it.
The color suits her though. Maybe because she’s been smiling more often with the change, and while Ryke has stayed impartial about the whole hair-color process (to avoid influencing her decision) he let his thoughts slip to me yesterday.
His exact wording: “I was afraid she’d look too much like you, but she doesn’t. I didn’t realize how f*cking attracted to her I’d be.” Apparently Daisy met him at a quarry, took off her motorcycle helmet, and revealed the finished product. Then they had outdoor sex.
The idea is better than reality. I know firsthand.
As I near, I watch the State Park Ranger shake his head fiercely at Ryke, trying to push a harness and rope at him. Ryke raises his hands.
I reach hearing distance just as he says, “I’ve already signed a f*cking waiver. If I die, it’s not the park’s responsibility.”
“It’s windy and still dangerous. If you’re looking for a challenge, you can try for a second pitch. Not a lot of climbers do it on this rock face.”
Ryke growls in frustration.
My dad steps in between them. “If Ryke says it’s safe to climb, he should be able to climb. He understands the risk involved.”
The Ranger asks, “Is he repelling down?”
“Yes.” My father nods. “Two people are already at the top with gear for him.”
The Ranger sighs, resigned from the fight. “Fine. I’ve said everything I can.” With this, he walks off, and my dad pats Ryke’s shoulder and mutters a good luck.