Thrive (Addicted, #4)(2)

I roast again.

And he shakes his head. “You have to stop, Lily. Everything I say isn’t sexual.”

“Sorry,” I mumble.

“I was going to say, I didn’t get you anything yet. What would you like?”

What would I like? There are too many things I want, but most of them have to be acquired by supernatural forces.

“Are you a warlock?” I end up asking him.

“What?” His eyebrows knot.

“Never mind,” I mumble quickly. The cameras suddenly flash in quick succession. I slouch further in the booth, so low that I’m practically hiding underneath the table.

“Get a fucking grip.” Ryke glares.

“You shouldn’t even be here,” I hiss. I don’t know why I’m hissing. The diner isn’t even half-full, but I’m sure it’ll be packed within the hour now that we’re here.

“I was invited,” Ryke retorts.

“By Lo,” I whisper, “who somehow forgot that the press thinks you and I are hooking up. We don’t need to give them another reason.”

“So because I’m having lunch with my brother and his fiancée, we’re obviously fucking.” He gives me a hard look. “Makes complete sense.”

“Don’t say the f-word,” I reply. “It gives me hives.”

He glowers. “You’re getting married in less than a year. That isn’t fucking changing, Lily. You’re going to have to accept it.”

“I accept nothing,” I say lamely.

He rolls his eyes. “You’ve stopped making sense ten minutes ago.”

I’m about to refute, but Lo walks back to our booth, his cheekbones sharpened in aggravation. Shit. As he slides in next to me, he swiftly grabs my arm to lift me from my slouched position, as if it was the most natural course of action for him, as though he’s done this a thousand times with me.

Has he?

All I know for certain is that my hiding place is gone.

Damn.

“He won’t close the blinds,” Lo tells us. “He says that it’s good publicity for the diner.” At least they were honest and upfront about it.

“Maybe we should leave.” I throw it out there. Just like that. Wow that feels better. I wait for one of them to catch it. I spring up from the table, already expecting them to agree.

“No,” Lo says, his hand on my shoulder, forcing my butt back to the seat. Double damn. “Today’s your birthday, and you haven’t been out of the house in a week.” His arm fits around my waist, and I take a deep breath and lean into his warm body. I would like to admit that all my thoughts are chaste in this moment, but a brief flicker of a naked Lo fills my mind.

Of his muscles, his lean body…Naked Lo has a nice ass and a very large—

“Again,” Ryke says roughly, eyes on me, crushing my dirty thoughts. “What do you want for your birthday?”

Cock.

I have to close my eyes while I curse my brain from automatically jumping to that.

“She wants something that you can’t give her,” Lo answers for me.

“Like telekinesis and teleportation,” I blurt out, just in case Lo was thinking about the other thing Ryke can’t give me.

“I was referring to sex, but that too, yeah,” Lo says. Today isn’t going so well. Nope.

I hide my face in my hands and I wait for the perfunctory click click click of the cameras. Any second now.

Click.

Click

Click

There it is.

I don’t come out from my hand-fort.

“Lily…” Lo starts, concern in his voice.

“I don’t want to talk about sex or cock,” I blurt out.

A man clears his throat.

Shit.

I look over guiltily. The waiter stands at the end of the table with his notepad in hand. His gaze lands anywhere but on me. I might as well wear a walking road sign that says: Pervert and Sex Addict.

“What can I get you to drink?” he asks.

“Waters all around,” Lo orders. The waiter leaves, and the diner door jingles as more young people enter: teenagers or college students. They gather in a nearby booth and whip out their cellphones, snapping photos.

Hibernating in our home sounds much more pleasant than this. Maybe the bears know something we don’t.

Ryke unzips his leather jacket. “It’s your twenty-first birthday; does that mean you’re drinking tonight?” He sets the jacket aside, wearing a plain gray tee.

“No,” I shake my head. “I’m going to forgo those traditions.” My reasons extend beyond Lo being a recovering alcoholic. I want to remember tonight, especially if it involves sex.

“She lived vicariously through my twenty-first,” Lo adds. I did. It wasn’t pleasant.

Someone bangs on the window by my ear, and I jump so fast that I knock my water glass over. Ryke curses under his breath and mops up the spill with a napkin before I have the chance.

A cameraman raps the glass with his fist again, and my eyes gullibly follow the noise.

The flashes go off like busted light bulbs. And then the table of teenagers erupts in laughter, their gazes flitting to our booth and back away. My nerves spike, especially as more and more bells clink together, signaling a rush of people entering Lucky’s.