Addicted After All(184)
“So what does us being on social media f*cking mean exactly?” Ryke asks. I think he knows. He just wants someone to say it.
I speak up first. “We can’t try to hide anymore.” I nod resolutely. It’s ironic coming from the girl who used to be a hermit, who shied away from attention and cameras. By using social media, we’re now cementing a future in the public eye.
No takebacks.
But if we’re going to be under a spotlight, I’d much rather do it on my terms than someone else’s. Maybe then we’ll have a fighting chance at protecting Maximoff and Jane as they grow older. We all have a bigger voice now.
No one can steal that from us.
{ 66 }
LOREN HALE
Ryke pops a bagel into a toaster. “Don’t f*cking say it,” he tells me.
I must wear a mocking smile. “I wasn’t going to say anything.” While the girls talk quietly in the living room, we refill coffees in the kitchen.
Connor examines the expiration date on the milk. “I’ll say it.”
“Do it,” I prod.
“Daisy Meadows,” Connor puts it out there. The username she chose stirred old memories for us. We ream Ryke all the time about that possibility. Marrying her. Before, I’d shut him down. Now, it’s fun to watch him roll his eyes. And tell me to f*ck off.
Ryke looks incensed as he waits for his breakfast to cook. “You two are f*cking hilarious.”
“I thought we were more predictable than hilarious,” Connor says easily, trashing the milk. “But I accept both.”
I lean against the stove. “Are you going to name your kids Wild or Pony?”
“Shut the f*ck up,” Ryke says lightly, and he even laughs. “Pony Meadows, really?”
“It’s nature.” I theatrically gasp like Daisy always does. “Nature is amazing.”
“You f*cking suck at mimicking her.”
“Yeah, that was weak.” I watch Connor pour his coffee in a mug. He combs his hand through his wavy hair, flattening some of the thicker strands. “Hey…” My blood ices, and I hesitate to say what’s popped in my head.
But he spins around and sets his deep blue eyes on me. Waiting for me to finish.
I haven’t asked him about the article in a while, the one involving my son. It hasn’t cropped up on the internet. I assumed it was taken care of, but I’d sleep easier hearing it from him. I ask, “Did you and my dad work things out?”
“We’re not going to be best friends any time soon, but we’ve set aside our differences for now.” He takes a sip of coffee. “Turns out we have something in common.” I read his gaze that’s more open than usual, the answer clear.
They both love me.
That’s not even the strangest part. What’s crazy is that I feel worthy of love.
“So how’d you bury the article?” I ask with a frown. “Whatever it cost, I can write a check—”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, his defenses rising, his emotions padlocked.
“Connor—”
“Lo,” he says smoothly, “trust me when I tell you that it’s taken care of. This isn’t a part of your story anymore.”
Ryke grabs his popped bagel. “Just take the easy f*cking win, Lo. We all dodged a shit storm.”
Not every situation has to be a full-on drag-out battle, and if this one is easier—yeah, I’ll take it. “Thanks,” I tell Connor.
“For you, anything.”
This time when he says it, I recognize the depth to his words. I’m not sure what he did for me. With someone as guarded as Connor, I doubt I’ll ever find out. But I’m sure that it was more than I could ever give.
{ 67 }
LILY CALLOWAY
“The register is pretty simple, or if you’d rather man the expresso and coffee makers, you’re welcome to do that. I thought the comics would be more up your alley though.” I open some of the blinds on the Superheroes & Scones storefront windows. We’re closed for another two hours, but I’m guiding Willow around, Maya in tow.
“I probably shouldn’t be near hot liquids,” Willow says softly. “I can be a klutz when I’m nervous.” She adjusts the straps of her jean backpack on her arm. She still carries it around like a safety vest.