Ricochet (Addicted #1.5)(72)

“You would,” he nods. “You’d cut your beautiful hair in order to.” His fingers skim her brown glossy locks that stop at her chest.

“You think if I cut my hair I would look like a boy?” she retorts, defensive. I guess to protect herself back then, she would need to be a man. She jerks out of his grasp, eyes as cold as ice.

He doesn’t shrink back. He takes the challenge with a fervent smile. “I think you would make an effort to, and I’d keep my smart ass lips shut so I didn’t die.” He looks her over. “Then I’d pretend to be with a man just so I could do this.” One of his hands slides across her neck, the other cups her face, and he presses his lips to hers, drawing her closer as they kiss.

Her hands hang loose by her side, and as he melds his chest to her, closing every gap, she relaxes her arms around his shoulders. Internally, I’m waving Connor Cobalt and Rose Calloway flags, cheering them on.

When they part, their warm breath smokes the cold air. Rose’s eyes are surprisingly soft, but her words remain fiery. “And then we’d both be dead,” she reminds him. “We’d be hung for sodomy.”

“Then I’d die with you. Happily.” He grins, and her lips rise in an equally infatuated smile.

And then the doorbell rings, breaking their moment and successfully ruining Rose’s pleasant mood. “I still have to put out the fire,” she says in distress.

Connor squeezes her arms lightly, and her attention returns to him. “I’ll go mingle with your mother. Take your time, hun.” He kisses her softly on the cheek and disappears inside the sliding glass doors.

It’s in this moment that I realize how well Connor knows my sister. Most guys would choose to save the girl from manual labor. But Rose would rather delay any conversation with our mother. As she walks off to find something to smother the fire, Ryke approaches me with a stiff gait, his hands still firmly pocketed in his jacket.

I lick my chapped lips, as hesitant as him. “What?” I wonder if he’s going to chastise me for something I did with Lo. Maybe talking to him again. He’s never been on my team. Not really. He’s sided with Lo far more often.

“I’m sorry,” he says, the words sounding so sincere that I almost stumble back in shock.

“Huh?”

He rolls his eyes, his features darkening. “Don’t make me say it again.”

My brows crinkle, and I tug the flaps of my Wampa cap lower to shield my flush and the incoming gust of wind, not sure what else to say since he’s left me in a state of confusion.

He runs a hand through his hair. “I thought you’d cheat on him and break the guy’s soul,” he admits. “I didn’t think you could do it. And I was wrong.” He pauses and then his eyes meet mine, and I see Lo in them. “I’m sorry for being an asshole, for not understanding…I think that he needs you as much as you need him.” He nods to himself, as though realizing how right those words are as he says them.

So, he may not be rooting for me exactly. But he’s supporting our relationship. That’s even better. I can’t help but smile.

Ryke actually smiles back. “You’re okay, Calloway.” With this he pats my shoulder and then turns around, heading for the warmth of the indoors.

Rose shovels a light layer of snow into the trashcan, and the fire hisses and smoke plumes in the air. She tosses the shovel to the side and smacks her hands together to clean off the dirt. When she sees me watching, she nears and tightens my coat around me, finding the hooks to snap it closed.

“Thank you,” I tell her, “for these three months.”

Her eyes flicker to mine. “You did all the work.”

“Not true,” I say with a small laugh. She found my therapist. She decorated the house. She spent more time helping me than I can even add up. “I’m happy I’m here.”

“Me too,” she says, her eyes softening again. She’s starting to get good at that. Her arm wraps around my shoulder. As we go inside, I know that the future may not be so easy. I know that there will be more issues to deal with.

But I can’t imagine going back to how things were.

Now it’s time to start building relationships.

I think I’m ready.





{12}



Lo comes home tomorrow.

I don’t think my brain can process anything else for the day, yet I’m sitting in Dr. Banning’s office trying to go over some heavy topics before Lo returns. My poor brain is about to emergency eject right out of my skull.

But I don’t want to quit, not when I’m so close to having some sort of breakthrough about my addiction. I feel like I’m on the verge of answers. I just need something to click.

Dr. Banning runs a hand down the side of her short black bob, her eyes intent on her notepad for the moment. My fingernails are bitten down to the beds, and I rub the tops in an attempt to ease the sting. It only hurts more.

“Lily.” Dr. Banning finally looks up and I meet her gaze. She gives me a warm consoling smile and I relax a little. “You told me you were having a housewarming party. How did that go?’

“Fine,” I say, running my hands on my jeans and inwardly cringing at the word. Fine. Such a stupid word really. It feels empty and weightless. It’s the kind of word you use to hide the truth.