Ricochet (Addicted #1.5)(71)

Ryke glowers and I sense something bad coming. The two of them are still not warming to each other. I’m really not sure what it will take.

“You’re a tool,” Ryke says, blunt but not in a Connor Cobalt endearing way. He’s just kind of mean.

“Why are you here again?” Connor asks.

Ryke’s jaw hardens. “I’m Lily’s friend.”

“Well, I’m Rose’s boyfriend and Lily’s friend,” Connor says. “I don’t know if you’re good at math but…” He flashes his prep school smile. Oh…Connor…

Rose smacks him lightly on the arm. “Stop, we’re here for Lily. The two of you, get a grip. We don’t have much time left.”

She hands me a black plastic bag and I take a quick peek inside, already knowing it contains the very last of my porn. I forgot about one of the shoeboxes in the back of my closet the last time I threw everything away.

“So I guess I just toss this stuff in?” I turn to Rose for instruction. She nods and I take a couple steps forward.

“Don’t catch on fire. You’re made of fur,” Ryke warns me. Oh yeah. I stop a foot away and slowly pull a couple of the magazines from the bag. I roll them up so that Connor and Ryke can’t tell what they are. I really don’t need to add to my embarrassment today.

“Goodbye, porn,” I say under my breath and toss them in one-by-one as quick as I can. The fire cracks and sparks and I step back a little. Now I am kind of scared I’ll catch on fire.

Hurriedly, I finish with the magazines and throw the empty bag in last.

“Now your vows,” Rose announces. “Read them out loud.”

Right. I stuff my hand in the pocket and pull out a slip of paper. My fingers are already pink from the cold, but I manage to fold it open quickly anyway.

I only have a few items on my list, but each one is a little painful to say. At least in front of Rose, Connor, and Ryke. They move around the trash can so that I can see them clearly, which makes this even harder.

“One,” I say in a small voice. “I will not look at porn.”

“I thought this was supposed to be a proclamation.” Ryke rocks on the balls of his feet. He leans forward and says, “I can’t even hear you.”

“Say it like you mean it,” Rose agrees with a supportive nod.

“Scream it,” Connor adds.

The fire lets out another loud crack and it triggers something in me. Or maybe the unbridled confidence of my friends does. I take a deep breath before I yell, “I will not look at porn!”

Ryke starts clapping. Connor lets out a whistle with his fingers, and Rose gives me a smile. The pressure on my chest builds but also lightens with each word. In this moment, maybe their confidence is contagious.

“Two. I will not masturbate!”

They’re still cheering and I focus on the paper in my cold fingers.

“Three. I will not be compulsive about sex!” I scream it, and yet I know this will be the hardest vow to live by. The most difficult to control.

“And four,” I pause as I look at these final words. They mean the absolute most to me. “I will not cheat on Loren Hale!”

My blood is pumping from the fire, my friend’s supportive cheers, and my words—so much so that I toss the paper triumphantly into the flames.

“What the hell?!” Rose shrieks. I jolt backwards and check my arms to make sure I haven’t caught on fire. I’m okay though. I touch my cap. Wampa’s fine too.

“What?” I ask, confused now.

I look back up and see Rose about to faint in distress. “You burned it,” she says like I’m the one who lost my mind.

“I thought I was supposed to.”

“Why would you burn your vows? They’re supposed to help you.”

“Then what’s the fire for?” I point at it accusingly.

“For the porn, Lily.” Rose groans into her hands and looks up. “Okay, we have to do it again.”

“No,” we all say unanimously.

Rose turns on Connor first. “This is important,” she complains, her hands going to her hips. She means business, but I have no intention of repeating this. I think one LVD is enough for a lifetime.

“She read it aloud. Isn’t that the point, Rose?” Connor asks.

“It’s bad luck.”

“Please tell me you’re not superstitious.” Connor tilts his head, scanning the length of her as though she’s morphed into a gypsy—the magical kind, not the gaudy ones you see on TLC. “Are you going to tell me you practice witchcraft and sorcery too?”

“This isn’t the seventeenth century, Richard,” Rose snaps. “If it was, I suppose you’d have me burned at the stake.”

“I wouldn’t have the chance. I’d already be dead.”

“For what? Being a smartass?”

He edges closer to Rose, only a couple feet away, and I’m surprised when she stands her ground, not taking one step back. His eyes flit across her porcelain cheeks, her pink nose from the cold, and her striking cat-colored eyes. “I would mention how the Earth revolves around the sun, and they’d cry heretic. You, of course, would be accused of heresy or witchcraft by eighteen.”

“I’d survive,” she declares.