Kiss the Sky (Addicted #3)(70)

“Sweaters and jackets take up more room than bathing suits,” I defend from the kitchen. Lily, Daisy, and I start stocking the wooden cupboards, and we make soup for dinner. Ben, Brett, and Savannah are still here, but they’re silently buzzing around, trying to unload their camera equipment as quickly as possible.

Savannah is the fastest, and I refrain from cheering her on, but she deserves the praise. Those steadicam contraptions are heavy. She’s already on her feet, heading to us.

Loren traipses in behind Ryke with Lily’s duffel slung over his shoulder, trekking in snow. He watches his brother struggle to keep my suitcase in his arms. Loren looks unsurprised by my over-packing, considering he’s attended many family trips with us.

“It has wheels, you know,” Loren tells him like he’s a moron.

“It’s f*cking snowing,” Ryke growls.

Loren turns to me. “Don’t you already own a slav—I mean a boyfriend.” He flashes a sardonic grin.

In perfect timing, Connor walks through the doorway easily carrying my other two duffel bags without an issue. Yes, I have a problem over-packing. I need choices, and I would have gladly brought my own luggage inside but we divided up duties.

“We were just talking about you,” Loren tells Connor.

“I heard,” he says. “In terms of ownership, we’re both on equal footing…unless you’re talking about in bed.”

“I can see how she’d be bossy.”

Connor grins and slides past Loren and Ryke to drop off my bags. Loren’s brows bunch together in confusion while my neck heats.

Lily tugs my arms. “You’ve done things, haven’t you?” she asks in a whisper-hiss. “And you haven’t told me?”

Savannah edges close with her camera, her red braids against a black chunky sweater with mini pink skulls. Her goth look is actually quite cute, and she’s more apt to crack a smile than porky Brett, who only looks happy when he catches Lily doing something sexual.

He’s still my least favorite of the three-person crew.

“Maybe,” I answer Lily evasively.

At the stove, Daisy stirs the soup with a large ladle, smiling brightly until she looks up and her eyes lock on someone.

I follow her gaze and find her “boyfriend” strolling into the cabin as he texts on his phone. Tall, dark-haired, Italian, a quarter Spanish. I had a five-minute conversation with him on the plane, and it was clear Daisy didn’t hide Julian from us because he’s dumb.

He’s six years older than her.

To say that most of us were displeased would be an understatement. None of us have done the yelling bit yet. Mostly because the cameras have been heavily up in our faces during the trip, waiting for us to explode on Julian.

That’s why Scott withheld airing footage with him. They wanted that moment. And so far, no one has given it to him. Which put Scott in quite the pissy f*cking mood. I am abnormally chipper because of it. I could twirl around in a dress and hold out my hand, waiting for a bird to come land on my finger. Imagine the Wicked Witch doing that dance number, and that’s pretty much me right now.

I turn to Lily. “Apparently we all keep secrets.”

“Hey,” Daisy says, knowing I was referring to her. She waves her hand at me. “I knew you’d disapprove. If production hadn’t forced me to bring him along, he’d be back in Philly.”

“I only disapprove because it’s illegal if you two hook up,” I remind her. “One year. That’s all you have to wait.”

“Back to the point,” Lily insists. “Connor said unless you’re talking about in bed. That implies you did things.”

Months ago, Lily would have crawled underneath a table to avoid discussing sex. Now she prods for details. It’s enough to break my silence. “We did some things,” I tell her in a whisper. But I know Savannah catches every word.

“Things? What things?” She grins from ear-to-ear, excited for me. I wonder if she remembers her first time, or if it was something hazy like her other sexual experiences.

“Wait, I want to hear,” Daisy tells us. She steps away from the stove and closes our little circle.

“We haven’t had sex yet, so don’t get too excited.”

“Things can be better than sex sometimes,” Lily says, poking my arm with her bony finger.

Daisy stays quiet, her gaze drifting.

“Daisy disagrees with you, Lily,” I say.

“What? No I…okay, I kind of do.” She grimaces a little as she recalls a few memories, waving her hands theatrically with each word. “They’re pretty much equal for me. Fingering, oral, sex—it all sits somewhere in the meh territory. I think I’m just not programmed to like sex. I’m like the anti-sex goddess. The opposite of Lily, you know?”

Lily turns bright red. “Ugh…” She places her hands to her hot face. “My body betrays me all the freakin’ time! I don’t know why those words embarrass me.”

“Because you’re a sex addict,” I remind her. “Stupid people make you feel like you’re a whore if you say them.” And then I turn on Daisy. “And that’s ridiculous.”

Daisy is all smiles but I see her fear—that she really isn’t ever going to have a proper f*cking orgasm.

“You can orgasm,” I tell her. “You just have to find the right person.” I thought she had reached that peak with a guy before, but she explained to Lily and me what happened, and it did not sound like an orgasm. It sounded more like she settled with what was given, which was nothing much at all.