Thrive (Addicted, #4)(60)

Then Connor says, “Lo…”

I don’t spin around as I head to the living room. I just point to the toaster. “I’m not going to butter it for you.” I take a bite of my bagel and only glance back once. Yeah, I made the guy breakfast, a small, small sign of peace between us.

I watch as his lips pull into one of those genuine smiles—one that holds no trace of arrogance.

I add, “It doesn’t mean that I’m not still mad at you.” I won’t let him off the hook that easily, but I doubt this fight will last much longer.

“I prefer my friends angry,” Connor says. “It makes me look better.”

“Too soon,” I tell him, eating my bagel and walking back to the living room.

I can practically feel his grin widen behind me. And it takes me a minute to realize that I’m smiling too.





{ 26 }

0 years : 07 months (March)





LILY CALLOWAY


I underestimated the amount of people that watch Princesses of Philly. A couple teenagers sip lattes and peek around a tall bookshelf, whispering as they spy on Lo and me. It’s impossible to be invisible with Brett’s camera pointed at us.

I keep asking myself why we left the townhouse. My brows crinkle. I don’t have an answer, so I turn to Lo who peruses the Sci-Fi/Fantasy aisle in the local bookstore.

“Why did we leave the townhouse?” I ask “Fresh air.” He pulls out a small trade paperback and scans the summary. He mostly reads comics, but on occasion, he’ll branch out into these genres. He devoured Game of Thrones before watching the television show. I told him that I finished the first book, but really, I just skipped around and read Arya’s parts.

She’s the best.

Laughter emanates from one shelf behind us. My shoulders curve forward, hoping that it’s not something I did. “The air was pretty fresh back home.”

He gives me a look, one that says: I don’t want you becoming a scared, little hermit. His looks say more than his words. That’s a fact.

I inhale strongly and try to follow Lo’s lead. Just relax, Lily. Be casual. I shake out my arms and scan the row of books. Then I freeze, sensing beady eyes bore down on me.

Slowly, I look up and spot someone with a mop of brown hair, watching us from above a shelf. He ducks quickly when our eyes meet.

Holy shit.

I can’t do this.

I can’t.

I grab Lo’s hand, my chest constricting in a paranoid, freakazoid way. Swiftly, I drag him into the nearest bathroom, ignoring the fact that Brett trails us. I shut the door on the cameraman before he enters.

He pounds on the door in protest.

“I’m peeing!” I shout.

His fist must fall because everything grows silent outside.

My eyes dance over the door like someone is going to intrude any second. “Everyone is staring,” I whisper to Lo. I shiver, like eyes have attached onto me. Like they can see me in here.

When I turn to Lo, his gaze softens for me. I prepare myself for an epic pep talk. He holds my biceps. “You’re a sex addict and I’m an alcoholic,” he says, “and the whole fucking world knows it. We have to get used to people staring, love.”

He’s right of course. My mind seems to calm, but my body doesn’t follow just yet. My legs feel gooey, and my shoulders shake a little, on edge.

The words leave my lips before I can stop them, “Can I give you a blow job?”

“No,” he deadpans.

I raise my hands. “You’re right. You’re so right. Blow jobs are so ‘89.”

“Let’s not go that far.” He smiles softly, and I don’t know why, but tears prick my eyes. I’m such a sap. And there goes that smile, fading away. “Lil…”

“I’m sorry,” I blurt out. “I shouldn’t have asked. Can we do take-backs?”

“Sure,” he says. “And how about we wait in here for a while, see if we piss off Brett enough that he’ll ditch us for Ryke or Rose?”

“I like that idea.”

“Yeah?”

I nod. “And maybe a virus will infect everyone, turning them into zombies, and when we leave the bathroom, the bookstore will be completely deserted.”

“Nice,” he says, “but I’d rather not be inserted into the plot of 28 Days Later.”

Damn. He’s good.

“I love you,” I suddenly say. I mean it. Because who else would stay in a bookstore bathroom with me, just to hide out for a little while.

Definitely not Rose. Maybe Daisy. Ryke would rather die, I’m sure. And Connor can never be added into any equation without hurting my head.

So that leaves Lo. Just Lo.





{ 27 }

0 years : 08 months

April





LILY CALLOWAY


“Did it hurt? Did you like it? Have you done it again?” My questions pour forth like a broken dam. This isn’t the first time I’ve asked Rose, but she never provides details, so I’ve waited until we could talk alone. But we haven’t had much of a chance since the Alps vacation, a trip planned by production. I thought I’d squeeze some conversations in on the plane ride home, but she sat with Connor.

The biggest event of the trip, in my opinion, was Rose losing her virginity.