Ricochet (Addicted #1.5)(45)

“From what Rose has told me, it sounds like he’d be willing to do just about anything for you.” She glances at her clock. “That’s it for today. Did I scare you off?”

I shake my head. “No…actually, for the first time, I feel like I’m headed somewhere.”

And I know that place is somewhere good.





{8}



After more days filled with class, therapy and loneliness, winter break arrives. And every year with winter break comes Daisy’s birthday. Our mother asked her what kind of Sweet Sixteen party she wanted, and she chose to take the yacht around Acapulco and Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. Samantha Calloway put her foot down almost immediately at the idea. Not because it’s too lavish but because she has a special brunch with her tennis ladies on Wednesday that she won’t miss. Daisy was asking for a week-long birthday, not just one night.

Our father has a business meeting, so he wouldn’t be able to make the trip either. But I stepped in and told my mother that I would chaperone. Since Lo’s call, I’ve been feeling better, and I kind of want to test myself—to see if I can hold myself back from doing something with a server. I know I can, and I’m ready to experience that personal victory. Dr. Banning even thought it’d be a good idea.

My mother was more than happy with these terms, but Rose wasn’t. She has an Academic Bowl competition all weekend. So does Connor. Her solution? The brunet, know-it-all track star.

Ryke.

He even went as far to personally ask Daisy if he could join her party because I would need some help. I was there when she told him that if he could handle a boat full of estrogen, she wouldn’t be one to stop him.

He choked on a dry laugh and said, “I think I’ll be okay.”

She flashed an equally tight smile. “Just warning you now.”

Daisy invited twenty of her closest girl friends from prep school who look like they’re used to getting what they want. He should be scared.

After a flight to the port, I wait by the dock while stewards collect our luggage to bring on the yacht. The sixteen-year-old girls pool out of two limos, adjusting their Chanel sunglasses and reapplying a sheen of lip gloss to combat the daylight. I feel a little underdressed in my jean shorts and halter top. These girls look like they took a pit stop in L.A. and went shopping: long billowing skirts and tight bandeau tops with designer bags on the hook of their arms.

They bring me back to my prep school days. I spent most of my time avoiding these girls, too scared about what I would be labeled if my secret was exposed. Lo was my only friend, and as a result I’m a bit socially inept when it comes to girls. This trip is going to be awesome. I just need to remind myself that I’m four years older. And even if they make me feel like a small shellfish…I am a shining sea star. Uh…I seriously need to come up with better confidence boosters.

Daisy sticks out among her friends at five foot eleven. When she spots me, she waves and her eyes flicker over to the handsome twenty-two-year-old beside me. Ryke wears black wayfarers and leans an arm on the dock’s post with such confident nonchalance that the rest of the girls begin to look over, eyeing the cut muscles of his bicep and the ridges seen through his green tank. It’s like a herd of lionesses stalking their prey.

I smack his stomach, my knuckles hitting the hardness of his abs.

His eyebrow quirks like I’ve gone mental. “What the fuck?”

I shake my hand off. “Stop doing that.”

“I’m just standing here.”

This is going to be a long trip. “Don’t stand like that.”

“Like what? Seriously, how the fuck am I supposed to stand?” He throws his hands up in the air.

“I don’t know,” I exclaim, glancing back at the girls. “Don’t lean on things. It looks sexual.”

“I’m not even going to ask how that’s possible. Besides, everything looks sexual to you,” he reminds me.

“They may look my age, but they’re all sixteen.”

He glances back at the girls who are still sizing him up from afar. “No shit. And let me guess, you think I’m going to hook up with one of them. I’m not you, Lily.”

Okay, that stings.

“Most guys would go for it,” I defend myself. “They’re cute girls and men usually think with their downstairs brain. I’m just telling your cock in case it has other plans.”

“Leave my cock alone,” he snaps. “And while you’re at it, leave your sexist attitude on the shore.”

Maybe I did generalize the entire male population as being horny, but I’m a little edged. The last time I was on a boat, I almost ruined my friendship with Lo and then I ended up forming a real relationship instead.

I think boats are my enemy. They make me kind of nuts.

I open my mouth about to tell him this, but Ryke cuts me off, “Get a grip, Calloway.”

He’s right. I take a deep breath and prepare for the worst. I can do this. It’s only a week.

I internally laugh. Yeah. Right.



*



While the girls are given a brief tour of the yacht by the chief steward, Ryke and I find the lounge area with a shady overhang. I take a seat on the couch while a server brings us fresh orange juice. As part of the itinerary, my mother told the servers not to carry any alcohol onboard. Last thing she’d want is for one of the girls to fall over the rails and drown in a drunken haze.