Thrive (Addicted, #4)(32)
“Twenty seconds.”
Now I’m in Loren Hale’s arms.
He’s sober.
I’m in recovery.
I wasn’t sure if we’d ever be at this place. I glance at Daisy who balances her spoon on her nose with a bright smile—the first genuine looking one I’ve seen from her tonight. Ryke stares at her for a long moment before messing her hair with his hand. The spoon falls to her lap.
Connor and Rose stand only inches apart by the coffee table, his hands on her hips. Her chest rises and falls faster than his, but his gaze is glued to Rose, entrapped, like she’s beyond gorgeous—like he could take her right there without hesitation.
I turn back to Lo and rest my knees on either side of his waist, straddling him.
“Ten seconds,” the host declares.
“I missed you last year,” Lo murmurs, his hand on my cheek, his thumb stroking my skin.
I kiss his sharp jaw, and before I pull away, he kisses the outside of my lips, nerves singing at the touch. Yes.
“Remember how when we were little?” I whisper. “You’d chase me around before midnight.”
“Eight!” the television blares. “Seven!”
Lo’s fingers comb into my hair as he holds my face. “You always ran out of breath.”
I smile. “I wanted you to catch me.”
His amber eyes dance along my features, like he’s engraining every detail. “I thought so.”
“Five!”
“Catch me,” I whisper.
“Four!”
“I already have,” he murmurs.
Our bodies press together, as though they’ve never drifted apart, not for three months or years or any moment’s time.
His lips touch mine, his hand gripping my hair. I pull even closer to his body, the kiss magnetizing me to him.
“One!”
In this moment, everything else is just background to our story.
It takes a few minutes to actually hear the cheers from the television, the people in Times Square celebrating with confetti and more kisses.
Connor and Rose are full-on making out. Like passionate, powerful kisses that would occur after pent-up emotions from a fight. He’s in control, one hand on her ass, their lips never disconnecting as he walks her backwards. Her shoulders hit the wall.
“Whoa,” I say. Before Lo covers my eyes, I shift my gaze. I don’t want to be aroused by that. How embarrassing—on my part.
“Do you guys realize what this means?” Daisy asks, drawing my attention to the couch.
At first I think she’s talking about Connor and Rose. To me, it means that their nerd love is in full orbit. Where it should be.
But her eyes aren’t on them. She’s staring at the TV screen, and Ryke has his hand on the couch behind her head. They don’t look like they shared a New Year’s kiss, but I wonder if they thought about it. Even for a second.
“What?” I ask.
She stares off in thought, neither excited nor scared. “In a few days, we’re going to be filmed.” She pauses. “For a reality show.”
Oh.
Shit.
PART TWO
“That's how I survived. Time and time again. That's my secret. I survived because I willed it to be ... How did I survive apocalyptic fire? I simply refused to feel the flames.”
– Emma Frost, Dark Reign: The Cabal Vol 1 #1
{ 12 }
0 years : 05 months
January
LOREN HALE
“So you have to film everything we do?” I ask the short, pudgy camera guy. Brett can’t be any older than twenty-five. When Lily explained the reality show, my first thought was fuck no. Why would we voluntarily participate in that kind of torture? And then she started stammering about how this might relieve the guilt and how people might see us as a real couple.
She only sold me when she said, “I’m doing this, Lo. With or without you. So if it’s without you, then we’re not going to be seeing each other all that much for six months.”
Six months without her.
It’s never happened before.
I try to wrack my brain for a memory that doesn’t consist of Lily for that period of time, and I can’t come up with a single one. The only future I want is the one that ends with her.
If it means participating in a reality show, I can do it. Easy. All the drama will be supplied by us.
I stand outside of our bedroom door. In the Princeton house. Staring down a Canon Rebel and the stubby cameraman behind it. Lily clings to the door frame, shielded by my body.
Exactly where I want her in this moment.
Brett remains quiet, but my glare must motivate him because he finally says, “I can’t talk to you. You know…” He clears his throat. “The fourth wall.”
I raise my brows. Interesting. “So you’re just going to stand there silently—no matter what?”
He nods.
Maybe I overestimated how terrible this was going to be. No probing questions? No heckling from the cameramen? We can do whatever we want.
Huh.
I glance back at Lil, who wears a black romper and gold necklace. An outfit chosen by Rose. Apparently the girls have to wear clothes from the Calloway Couture line—for promotion.