Thrive (Addicted, #4)(27)

She kisses me first, and my smile disappears to carnal desire. I hold the back of her head, my tongue parting her lips and sliding against hers. Lily’s confidence, during sex, has been lost for a while. It’s nice to see it start to return.

I thrust hard again, and she breaks away to let out a sharp moan. No one else is listening in. When filming begins for the reality show—our audience will multiply unless we’re careful. In this moment, it doesn’t matter though.

We just let go.

After we both reach that peak, I keep her in my arms and comb her damp hair out of her face. The television plays a New Year’s Eve concert in the living room, the faint sounds now audible in our silence.

“I love you,” I tell her. Even though I say those words often after we have sex, she still glows when it reaches her ears.

“I love you too.”

Just as I go to kiss her again, the front door creaks open.

Rose. It has to be Rose. She came home to avoid spending the night in the suite with Connor. It’s a stupid decision, considering he now lives in this house with us. They even share a bedroom. What’s so different about a hotel?

Lily’s eyes widen with panic. “Oh my God.”

I’m standing in the kitchen. Buck naked.

While Lily has a shirt on, her panties are littered on the floor with the rest of our clothes. I lift her off the counter and set her feet on the ground.

I don’t know why I’m surprised. I have the shittiest luck in the whole universe. How many guys wake up one day and are told they’re bastards? How many have their biological mom basically say: hey, I didn’t want you when you were born nor do I care about you now?

I’ve been stampeded so many times already; I might as well brace myself before it happens again.

I zip my pants and turn to Lily and button her jeans. “We’re fucked,” she hisses.

“Not yet,” I whisper. “Fix your hair.”

She rapidly tries to flatten the messy strands.

The door slams closed, and as I bend down to grab my black crew-neck, I spot leather boots and long legs in the archway between the living room and the kitchen. My eyes travel up to her green army jacket and blonde hair.

“Daisy,” I say hesitantly. I breathe out, just glad it’s not Rose.

Her green eyes—swollen and reddened—dart between Lily and me. “Sorry…I didn’t mean to…” She rotates and heads back into the living room.

“Wait,” I say, rushing after Daisy with Lily by my side. I hurriedly put on my shirt and realize that Daisy’s aimed for the door.

“What happened?” Lily asks, fear pitching her voice.

“Daisy, don’t leave,” I add, sprinting ahead and blocking her exit. I lean my back against the door and keep a hand on the knob.

Then I scan her features. But her insanely long hair drapes along her cheeks and brows, masking her expression. Her fingers brush beneath her eyes—wiping tears?

My face twists. “Are you crying?”

“I’m fine,” she breathes. “I’m just going to go. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

My jaw locks. She knows we had sex.

Great.

And she’s going to tell my brother—because he prods for information, and they’re strangely friends.

Lily rests her hand on Daisy’s shoulder. “What happened? I thought you were spending the night at Cleo’s house?”

My brows furrow. “Cleo?” I try to wrack my brain for an image of Daisy’s friend. I think she’s blonde too. That’s all I picture.

“She’s my best friend,” Daisy mutters and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “I just…the party was lame. I thought I could come back here and watch the countdown on GBA with you and then crash in the guest room.”

“Then that’s what we’re going to do. You’re staying here,” Lily says adamantly, guiding Daisy over to the couch. They sit down together. I can’t remember a time where Lily was this protective. Maybe when I was in rehab, she grew closer to Daisy, but I never saw this side of their relationship. Lily, being the big sister like Rose, except without all the ice.

“We can watch Adventures in Babysitting. That’s one of your favorite movies, right?” Lily offers.

Daisy smiles. “You remembered?”

Lily nods. “Yeah. You told me…” She closes one eye as she recalls the date. I could kiss her again. “…last week, I think.”

“That sounds good.” Daisy takes off her jacket, settling in.

“Here, I’ll hang that up,” I tell her, grabbing the green fabric.

“Thanks.” She gives me a weak smile and scoots closer to Lily. Both girls have their feet on the couch. “So…” Daisy pauses.

Don’t say it. Don’t bring it up. I liked thinking that she’d pretend it never happened. I open the hallway closet and take out an empty hanger.

“…I thought you weren’t supposed to have sex in the kitchen or the living room—not that I’m judging. I just always thought it was a rule.” I hear the curiosity in her voice. Still, I’ve never had the urge to discuss my sex life with my girlfriend’s sixteen-year-old sister. In fact, it’s as uncomfortable as it sounds.

“Uhhh…” Lily draws out the word. “Lo?” She peeks her head over the couch, waiting for me to return to handle this one. Her cheeks are tomato-red.