Addicted After All(92)

Ryke rolls his eyes. “This is about my underwear?”

“So you’re not denying it.” Double ha!

“I’m not f*cking denying it,” he admits. “Do you have an underwear fetish now?” His tone is serious.

“No…” I say, roasting further.

Lo stands behind me and presses his hands playfully to my ears. “Don’t say the word fetish, it turns Connor on.”

I smile, and Connor wears a billion-dollar grin. “Words are my favorite sex toy,” he says and then walks over to his wife.

I take a deep breath, not feeling so much like the abnormal sex-crazed monster now.

Ryke nods to me. “What’s the deal, Lily?” He’s trying to understand more parts of my addiction, especially since I opened up to him at Hale Co., so it’s only right that I clarify.

“I touched your underwear.” I scrunch my nose. That’s good enough of an explanation, right?

It clicks for him. “It’s a piece of cloth, not my f*cking cock.”

Please stop talking about your cock, Ryke. I spin around, wanting to leave before my body turns into Brutus, the ultimate betrayer. I turn right into Lo’s hard chest. Perfect. I love it here.

Lo rests his hands on my shoulders, hugging me closer to him. Even better.

“What’d I do wrong?” Ryke asks, concern in his voice.

“Maybe don’t mention your cock in front of my girlfriend,” Lo says dryly.

I can practically feel him grimace. “Got it.”

Connor chimes in, “Are you sure, Ryke? Those were really complex instructions. I can always transcribe them for you.”

I peek from my Loren Hale cocoon to spot Ryke flipping off Connor. I let out another breath, glad to have overcome this little hurdle. I could’ve given Ryke another week-long silent treatment instead of sticking it out.

“What…did you do to your hair?” Rose suddenly asks, seeing Daisy first and everyone quiets.





{ 27 }

LILY CALLOWAY



“Stop looking at me, please,” Daisy announces to the entire room. All the couches pushed aside, we stand on the cream rug in a circle. Her hair has taken the spotlight for the past ten minutes. I’m kinda grateful to have a distraction. I hold my plastic baby, carefully attempting to emulate Rose’s baby-cradling form. Sweat gathers under my boobs, which is a whole new feeling for me. I’ve never had big enough breasts for boob-sweat.

“It’s hard not to,” Lo tells her, his doll cradled on his arm. “It’s just so bright. I’m almost blinded.”

I elbow him in the side to stop. Normally he’d mock wince, but his focus is on Daisy. She groans and covers her eyes with one hand. I notice how she holds her doll by the wrist, the plastic torso dangling.

“I know, I know. It’s really bad,” Daisy says.

Ryke tucks his doll underneath his armpit. Literally, he just shoved the baby’s face in there. Only Rose seems to be paying attention to Ryke’s placement, her eyes slowly narrowing to pinpoints. He’s busy messing Daisy’s hair with a playful hand. She exhales a breath.

Her medium-length locks are dyed yellow. Like a highlighter. I’m with Lo on this one, it’s bright. Over the past few months, Daisy has changed her hair to every color under the sun, some highlights, some a full-dye job, some pretty, others ugly. All the while, she took the change with enthusiasm and excitement. This is the first time I’ve seen her visibly upset over the hue.

“What color were you trying to dye it?” Connor asks, his doll cradled a little differently than Rose—the head more supported. I hone in on this detail and shift my doll to a better position. I glance at Ryke.

He’s still suffocating his baby.

“Blonde,” Daisy admits.

“You wanted to return to blonde?” Rose asks with a frown, not mentioning how Daisy may damage her hair if she keeps dyeing it so much.

Ryke’s hand has dropped to the small of Daisy’s back, more caringly, but his face has hardened to that familiar stone.

“Yeah, I don’t know.” Daisy grips her doll, dressed in a pink onesie, more securely underneath the arms. “Please let’s do this CPR class.”

“Can we not call it a class?” I ask, my arms trembling a little with nerves. “I just graduated, and classes and I aren’t the best of friends.” I have bombed more college courses than the average person, but maybe I can blame Princeton for being unnaturally hard.