Hothouse Flower (Addicted #4)(16)

“So I need to find a guy who’s not attracted to me?” That doesn’t make sense.

Ryke shakes his head. “No, Dais. You need to like the guy you’re with as much as they like you. That way, you’ll f*cking come too.”

“But what happens when the guy I like isn’t emotionally available?”

“Stay single,” he suggests.

“Forever?”

Ryke’s whole body tenses. I don’t know if that’s a no or a yes. Inside I’m screaming, give me something! Blink once for yes, twice for no!

And then the garage door opens. “Hey,” Lo calls, “dinner is…” His voice dies when he catches us on the motorcycle together.

Uh-oh.

Ryke slowly climbs off the bike, acting like he did nothing wrong. I mimic his guiltless expression, and I follow him, swinging my legs over the seat and standing up.

Lo’s eyes flash murderously at his brother. “Did I interrupt something?”

“No,” Ryke replies coolly. “We were just talking.”

Lo nods like he’s trying to believe that. “If you were just talking, then why were her legs wrapped around your waist?”

“Lo,” I try to cut in, but Ryke holds up his hand to stop me. This is between them, I guess.

But I do care about Lo a lot. He’s always been another extension of my family in a sense. He started as Lily’s best friend. Then her boyfriend. Now fiancé. And she always brought him on Calloway vacations. He was her plus one.

To say he’s like a big brother to me would be accurate.

Which makes everything with Ryke a tiny bit weird, but at the same time, Ryke feels so disconnected from Lo—a barrier built between them from years of separation. So maybe it’s not as strange as it could be.

“We’re friends,” Ryke tells his brother.

“Friends don’t do shit like that,” Lo retorts, pointing at my Ducati like it violated me. I would actually love to be violated on that motorcycle by Ryke Meadows. I wonder how rough he would take me.

Or if I would even be able to orgasm at all.

Ryke pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “What do you f*cking want me to say?”

“That what I just saw was a mistake!” Lo shouts.

Ryke doesn’t speak, so I will. “It was a mistake,” I tell Lo. “I wanted to see what it would be like to ride on a motorcycle backwards. I needed his help.”

Lo glares from me to him. “That’s the best lie you can come up with?”

I smile. “It’s actually the truth.”

This only incites Lo more. “This isn’t a f*cking joke, Daisy. He’s seven years older than you. He’s been with more girls than you probably even realize.”

“No, I realize that he’s slept with a lot of women, but his number is probably one that I would have easily reached at twenty-five too.”

Lo grimaces like that image is disgusting. “I’m in an alternate universe right now.”

“Really? Cool. Is it more fun here? I think it is.” I turn to Ryke. “What do you think?”

“Tone it down,” he tells me, his eyes fixed on his brother. “Lo—”

“You’re not good enough for her,” he says. “You realize that, right?”

Ryke’s jaw locks, and his shoulders tense. “I care about Daisy just as much as you, if not more, so you don’t need to pull this overprotective bullshit on me.”

“It’s not bullshit if you’re f*cking her.”

“We’re not f*cking!” Ryke shouts.

More people trickle in the garage. Connor. Both of my sisters.

Rose is classily outfitted in a black high-collared dress, stomping through the doorway in five-inch heels. She looks like a perfect match beside the ever-confident Connor Cobalt.

Lily has on one of Lo’s shirts and a pair of leggings, and she squeezes through the doorway to reach Lo near Rose’s parked Escalade. I envy her short brown hair that’s chopped at her shoulders. “What’s going on?” she whispers to Lo.

“I caught them f*cking on her motorcycle.”

Ryke groans. “Come on! We were both on the bike, fully f*cking clothed. We’ve never had sex!” He shakes his head. “How many times do I have to say it? You know what, we might as well f*ck if you all think we’ve done it a thousand times already.”

My eyes widen. Really?

“Whoa, whoa,” Lo cringes, holding up his hands. “I can’t stomach you guys doing it once. So please spare me the goddamn picture of it happening a thousand times.”

“Both of you,” Connor says, stepping down the three stairs into the garage. “Stop for a second.” He stands between both brothers to mediate. “You’re overreacting.”

“I don’t like being accused of things that I didn’t f*cking do,” Ryke growls.

“Yeah? How do you think Dad feels?!” Lo yells.

It’s like a bomb dropped, Lo’s hostile voice echoing before the garage goes quiet. Ryke breathes heavily but makes no attempt to answer Lo. It’s a loaded question.

Lo returns to the central issue. “She’s eighteen.”

“Here we go,” Ryke says, throwing his arms in the air. “Let’s f*cking hear it, Lo. She’s eighteen. She’s like your little sister. Her mom hates me. I know. I know. I f*cking know.”