Thrive (Addicted, #4)(91)
{ 42 }
1 year : 06 months
February
LILY CALLOWAY
I heave my body out of the pool, water splashing on the indoor stone floor. I carefully walk to the stack of white towels without slipping, but five-year-old Maria darts out of nowhere, skirting straight in front of me.
“No running!” Sam yells at his daughter. He sits on one of the wicker sofas next to Poppy, her cheeks a little flushed from the mojitos that the servers carry around. The raspberry mojitos were tempting, but I passed on them, as did Lo and Ryke.
Maria tries to slow her stride, a piece of paper with crayon drawings in her hand. She comes to a halt by Daisy, who’s on the pool ledge.
“Aw is this for me?” Daisy asks with a smile.
Maria nods and then whispers in her ear.
Thankfully I make it to the towels in one piece. No broken bones. I wrap the soft cotton around my waist and near Lo and Ryke at their iron table. They both look to me when I approach, their conversation ending.
Lo opens his arms, and I take a seat on his lap.
“Who won that game of chicken?” Ryke asks me.
I steal a fry from Lo’s plate. “Daisy and me, definitely. Rose and Connor will say otherwise though.”
Daisy steps out of the pool with her card from Maria, hearing me. “Yeah, there’s no rule against elbowing someone in the boob.” She locks eyes with Ryke, reading his confusion. “Lily’s elbow. Rose’s boob.” She wags her brows with a growing smile.
Ryke gives her a hard, unamused look—his normal, brooding expression. “At least we all know which Calloway girls play dirty,” he says. I easily read into the sexual innuendo.
“No dirtier than you,” Daisy says, passing us.
Ryke stiffens, realizing that conversation went south…closer to his penis than he probably intended. Or maybe he did mean it. Ryke watches her open the glass sliding door.
I lean forward and whisper-hiss, “Are you staring at my sister’s butt?”
“What?” He cringes at me like I’m the crazy one.
Daisy disappears inside.
Lo shakes his head at Ryke. “Just no.”
Ryke sighs heavily and rolls his eyes, visibly frustrated.
I clear my throat, realizing that this is the best time to discuss a certain subject on my mind. “Speaking of dirty things,” I tell Ryke. I straighten on Lo’s lap, folding my hands on the table. Seriousness intact.
Ryke’s brows rise. “Do I need to step out of the room?” He looks between Lo and me.
“No, this is about you,” I say.
Ryke looks to Lo. “What the fuck?”
Lo raises his hands. “I’m not involved in her suspicions.”
“They’re facts,” I say. I focus back on Ryke. “I’ve been observing you…” That came out so wrong. “I mean, watching you.” Nope. Not better. I redden while both guys now stare like I’ve sprouted wings. Dear God, help me out a bit. “You know what I mean.”
“I fucking don’t,” Ryke says easily.
This is going badly. I take a sip from a Fizz Life can and gag. Ew. That was flat. And not mine.
“Lily,” Ryke growls, impatient. He picks up his water.
“We need to talk,” I say, “about your sex addiction.”
He chokes on his drink, coughing hoarsely.
Lo and I pat his back at the same time. “It’s really, really out of control,” I tell him.
And then Ryke wipes his mouth with his arm. “You can’t be serious.”
“We just had to let go of Michelle. That’s the third store manager you’ve slept with. And I really liked Michelle.” I would’ve kept her around, but it complicates things. “And I completely understand. You can’t control yourself, but if you wanted to get away with hiding your addiction, you shouldn’t have slept with people we know. That’s sex addiction 101.”
Ryke leans back in his chair. “That doesn’t make me a fucking sex addict.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “I know it’s hard to admit, especially since you’ve been with so many women. But we’re here for you now. You can get this under control.” I put my hand on his arm in comfort.
His lips part a little. I think he’s finally out of the denial stage. And then he says, “I can’t tell if you’re being fucking serious.” He looks to Lo. “Is she for real right now?”
That should’ve worked. I did all the serious things that serious people do. The complacent face. The folded hands. The stiff spine. Check, check, double check. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore,” I add.
“Lily…” Ryke’s eyes darken. “I’m not a fucking sex addict. I know you wish I was, so I could join in your little sex addicts not-anonymous club, but it’s not happening.”
I thought I’d crack him this time.
Damn.
I slouch again. Fuck sitting up straight. “Can you at least admit that you screw more than the average male?” I ask. He always gets numbers from waitresses when we eat lunch out, and I’ve seen him slip into so many bathrooms with girls. He does one-night stands with zero shame. In and out. Sex, sex, sex.
Wow.
That does sound like me. Except for the zero shame part.