Hothouse Flower (Addicted #4)(85)

He glances at the thick woods that surround us and gestures towards the pines. “Don’t act like you didn’t see an RV past those trees.” He points at the tall ones that seclude us from the other campsites.

It’s a national park. There are other campers. I can’t change that. But at least we have some privacy. I recognize his fears though. This trip is supposed to be paparazzi free. For us to live off the grid and be absent of the media.

That’s what I promised him.

If some road-tripping family recognizes us, snaps some pictures and posts them to the web, we’re f*cked. But this is the best I can do.

“They’re not going to find us here, Lo.”

His eyes darken, not completely trusting me. I don’t know if he ever will. “In rehab they had a five-star gourmet chef on call. Your pseudo-rehab isn’t really living up to my expectations.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t hire a f*cking butler or maid, and I forgot to pack those scented toilettes you use to wipe your ass,” I snap. He’s not a rich snob that he makes himself out to be. He just likes to poke people until he sees a reaction. “If you want to go to rehab in New York, I’m not f*cking stopping you, Lo. I’m just giving you another option.” I outstretch my arms. “Open air. Freedom from the media. A normal f*cking life for a month. Something that the rehab center isn’t going to provide you with.” At least not when everyone there will know he’s Loren Hale. Another celebrity checking themselves into the center.

Like clockwork.

I wait for his response, and Connor returns, watching my brother as well, seeing what his decision will be. I can support either choice, but I want to be available if he goes to rehab. I can’t be on the road with shitty cell reception while he’s back in New York.

So if he chooses rehab, this trip to California is over. For Daisy, for me. I’d pick my brother in this instance. I have to.

After a long moment of silence, Lo looks at me. “Hotdogs and hamburgers tonight?”

My limbs loosen in relief. “Yeah,” I say with a nod. “You okay with that?”

“As long as Connor doesn’t cook them. He doesn’t understand that medium-rare means red and bloody.”

“No, I understand the meaning of medium-rare,” Connor counters. “I just also understand the meaning of Escherichia coli.”

“Why the f*ck can’t you just say E. coli?” I ask.

“Because abbreviations are lazy and I’m clearly not.”

I shouldn’t have asked.

Daisy tries to carry a stack of fold-out chairs in her arms all at once. I take a step forward to go help her, but Lo puts his hand on my chest. “I’ve got this.” He pats my shoulder with force, silently warning me, and then sprints to catch Daisy before she falls.

She laughs while he takes two chairs off her pile.

“You’re glaring,” Connor tells me.

“Fuck off.” Though I do try to lessen the agitation that tenses my jaw.

“Maybe try acting like you don’t want to murder your brother for stepping in your way.”

“It’s hard,” I say truthfully. I scratch my neck. “What would you do if you were me?” Maybe it’s masochistic of me to ask after what happened at the motel. But I want to hear his answer anyway.

“If I were you? You mean if I was screwing an eighteen-year-old girl who’s my brother’s girlfriend’s little sister, whose mother hates me because I’m the spawn of Sara Hale, and whose father dislikes likes me because he’s protective over his youngest, wildest daughter?”

I open my mouth to chew him out, but he cuts me off.

“But if I’m you,” he says with the tilt of his head, “I’ve also been there for that girl. When she had an ape of a boyfriend, when she was alone and all backs were turned, when she was going through heavier things than all of us realized.” His calm tone soothes any anger that threatens to rise. Just like that. “If I were you, Ryke, I’d stop letting people see the worst parts of me, and I’d finally show them the good.” He shrugs. “But I’m clearly not you.” He stares around at the forest landscape. “And you’re not me.”

“I just don’t see what good it’ll do to have those f*cking arguments.” I don’t want to fight. I just want to leave it all behind. I watch Daisy unfold all of the chairs with Lo. He motions to her messily cut hair, and she shows him the back, the blonde strands uneven. He shakes his head, but her face has never been brighter, even with a scar.

“Why does there have to be an argument?” Connor asks.

“You think people are just going to accept any explanation that comes out of my mouth? I can talk to her mom until she’s blue in the f*cking face. She won’t accept me, Connor. Her dad let Daisy date Julian, a guy my age who thought more with his cock than his head, and I’m the one who receives threatening looks when I stop by her parent’s house.”

“First off, he didn’t let her date Julian,” Connor notes. “He was furious. You weren’t there when Jonathan and Greg were trying to plot ways to have him fired from his modeling agency.”

“That clearly didn’t work.”

“I said tried,” Connor says easily. “I never said they were successful.” He presses a few buttons on his phone again. “Greg is a smart guy, Ryke. Even though you aren’t dating Daisy out in the open, he’s known since she was fifteen that she’s had a crush on you. He’s just worried you’re going to lead her on and break her heart.”