Hothouse Flower (Addicted #4)(66)

Connor sidles next to me by the trashcan. “I’m just as angry as you.”

I look him over. His muscles are relaxed despite the sadness in his eyes. This is a lot of emotion for Connor to f*cking show, but I highly doubt he’s feeling what I am. “I don’t think you are, Cobalt. Not even f*cking close.”

“My wife is upset, and she’s too prideful and stubborn to tell me why. Rose is the type of woman who would die with a secret if it scared her to reveal it, if it contributed to any type of weakness. So my mind is f*cking reeling.”

“Then go,” I tell him. “No one is keeping you here.”

“Lo just drank alcohol,” Connor says flatly. “Daisy is in the hospital. You’re a mess. I’m not leaving the three of you.”

“I’m not a f*cking mess.”

He points at the hallway. “I watched two guys who probably weigh two-fifty drag you to the ground. You spit in one of their faces.”

I glare. “He tried to kick me.” It was a low f*cking move. “It doesn’t matter. Stay if that’s what you want to do. Leave. If I need to, I’ll call Lily later to ask why she’s not here—”

“Lo already tried,” he says. “Lily and Rose said they’ll take a flight out tomorrow.”

I extend my arms. “Then why are we f*cking arguing? They’re going to be here.”

Connor shakes his head. “I already know how this plays out. If Daisy is awake and coherent, the minute they talk to her on the phone, which they will, she’ll convince her sisters to stay back. She won’t want to ruin their day, week, not even over a serious event like this.”

He’s right. If Daisy liked to burden people with her pain, she would have told her sisters about her insomnia, about her horrible f*cking prep school friends. About what happened during the ten months that she was living with her parents—when I was at my apartment. She doesn’t think her problems measure up to Lily’s addiction, but they do. They’re just as important.

I stare at the ground, my eyes burning again. I just have this mental picture of Daisy waking up in a strange place, in a foreign country, with no familiar face in the room. It’s f*cking horrifying, and I want to save her from that. “Has anyone called her mom yet?”

“No,” he whispers. “Samantha doesn’t know anything, and Rose wants to let Daisy decide whether they tell their mother now or later. Especially since Daisy is going to miss the rest of Fashion Week, and we all know Samantha won’t take that well.”

“Her mom loves her though,” I say. “She’d be concerned. We should at least f*cking call her.”

“Ryke,” he breathes. “She’d kick you out of the hospital. I looked online, and someone already uploaded your fight with Ian from the pub. Somehow Samantha is going to blame you for Daisy’s injuries, then cause a scene and upset Daisy even more. It’s delicate. So we need to ask her first.”

I nod. I just hope Daisy is coherent enough that she can respond to anything. What if she can’t talk? What if she’s f*cking blind? We know nothing.

Connor studies my reaction for a while and then adds, “And Celebrity Crush posted a photo of Daisy thrown over your shoulder.” He pauses, and his deep blue eyes narrow at me. “Your hand is on her ass, by the way. You should care more about what her father thinks if you want to have a real relationship with her, and if you don’t, then I’m telling you now, as her brother-in-law, back off.”

This is a new side of Connor. Protective of Daisy. I do appreciate it, more than I’m going to let on. “How do you know what I want?”

“I can read people really well. I’m almost a hundred-percent positive you’ve kissed her, based on seeing her in Paris. Her lips were red. She was a little flushed. You were too.”

I open my mouth, but he cuts me off.

“Lo didn’t pick up on it. He wouldn’t. I don’t think many people can see what I can.”

“Why do you have to f*cking compliment yourself when you prove a point?”

“I’m stating truths.”

I cross my arms. “Well, here’s one for you, Cobalt. It doesn’t matter if I grab her around the waist, if I kiss her chastely or if I kiss her roughly. No matter what I f*cking do, her father isn’t going to like me. Her mom is going to hate me. Fuck you for thinking I need their approval to have a real relationship. What I feel is f*cking real, and I don’t need her mom to verify that for me.”

Connor shakes his head like I’m an idiot.

I want to f*cking hit something right now, so him standing here, being a smug prick is not helping the situation. The sedative that has kept me at ease is quickly wearing off.

“How is it real?” he asks. “If you have to hide it from your friends and family, that makes your relationship pretend, Ryke.”

“Fuck you,” I say again.

“No, f*ck you,” he retorts, pretty uncharacteristically. So much so that my muscles tense. “I stuck up for you. When Lo was against you and Daisy, I was the one who tried to convince him that you’re both mature adults. I supported any idea of a relationship you two might have in the future, I still do, but after this trip, I’m reconsidering how much faith I had in you.”

I can tell this is more than just my hand on her ass in a f*cking picture. It’s the “talk” he wanted to have in her hotel room after she woke up screaming. Why does he have to pick this moment to tear through me?