“Alright, you can keep the food,” the older nurse says. “Maybe we can have you boys sign some things for us too? I have a niece who is obsessed with Princesses of Philly.”
Lo takes control. “No problem,” he says, “the girls will probably be happy to sign stuff too.”
“Really?” Her face lights up. “That’s so sweet of you.”
I almost laugh, but instead cover it with an amiable smile. Sweet isn’t a word I’d use to describe Loren.
The younger nurse sets the chart back at the edge of the bed. “Do you think the show will ever get a second season?”
Before Ryke and Loren say no, I beat them and tell her, “We’re actually considering it.”
Her smile stretches her face, one she can’t contain. I can tell that she’s biting her gums to try. “That’d be really amazing.”
Ryke and Loren look a little pissed and frustrated, understanding that we have to keep a level of mystery. Scott needs to think we’re still mulling over a season two, and sending a definitive no out into the world, even by a small rumor, will make gaining his trust harder for me.
“Before I go, do you need anything else Ryke?” the young nurse asks. “Have you been in pain at all?”
He meets her gaze, and I’ve been around Ryke long enough to read his level of interest in a girl. Since he’s been serious with Daisy, he’s never seemed to think twice about someone else.
“I’m fucking fantastic, which is why I need to get out of here tonight.” He’s not reciprocating anything with her, not even accidentally throwing mixed signals. His thoughts are with his girlfriend.
“You know that’s not possible,” she says. The older nurse passes my chair and then exits, as though she’s been paged somewhere else.
“That’s what I’ve been telling him.” Lo twists his wedding band. It’s an anxious habit, a giveaway that says he’s craving a drink.
Ryke follows my gaze and notices the sign from his brother. He sighs heavily. “I’ll be out of here in two more days then?”
“That’s possible,” she nods. “We just need to keep watching your vitals. If you take it easy but keep walking gently around, you’ll be out of here in no time.”
Ryke wraps his sandwich back and places it in the bag. “I’ll do that then.” He’s letting go of this fight for his brother. Strangely, his love for Lo may be what helps him stop from getting an infection.
If my mother was alive and could see this, I’d show her it as evidence: love benefiting someone’s health. It’s tangible enough that she might’ve accepted it, as I do now.
When the nurse leaves, Lo says, “She seemed like your type.” I hear the warning in his voice.
Lo can’t read Ryke as well as I can, which is why they need to communicate through words to avoid fighting. That’s not easy for either of them, but thankfully they’ve grown better at expressing themselves to each other.
Ryke sets the bag of food aside on a tray table. “Who?”
“You didn’t notice the blonde nurse?”
“So you think because you’ve seen me date—what three blondes—that’s my thing?” Ryke asks, swaying a little from the pain meds. This is amusing.
I rest my ankle on my thigh, watching my current entertainment for today. “He’s right,” I tell Lo. “I could give you the percentage of women he’s dated according to hair color and the blonde ratio is small. I’d do the math in my head, but honestly, I don’t care enough.”
Ryke rolls his eyes and they somehow land on my neck. “What the fuck is that?”
“I think your species calls it woof woof.”
Lo bursts out laughing.
Ryke is too doped up to join in.
“It’s a hickey,” I say. “And yes, Rose gave it to me. And yes, I forgot to cover it up before I left.”
“So the tabloids caught you?” He shakes his head slowly. “You forgot? You.” He points at me.
Lo snorts with another laugh attached.
“I know it’s incredibly hard to believe.” Because it’s not true. “But I was running late. Time essentially bested me.” Which has happened before. His pain medication may be on my side today.
He seems mildly disbelieving still. “The whole thing is fucking weird.”
Lo nods in agreement. “Didn’t Daisy get caught with a hickey once?”
“But that was…” He’s about to say that was Daisy. This is about Rose and Connor. He grimaces at his own words. It’s not fair to say that Rose can’t do something that other women can, simply because she’s set a precedent for being uptight and high-strung.
Truthfully though, it’s the reality. Once you change your nature, people question.
Ryke let’s it go, resting an arm on his brother’s shoulder. “You know what my type is?” And he wears a drugged smile, his lips slowly lifting. “Daisy Calloway.”
I’ve known that all along.
Some attraction is easier to spot than others. Theirs may be so outwardly apparent, but Rose’s attraction to me and mine with her is faint to most. It’s making these articles more popular for the press to pick up and run.
Ryke’s smile slowly wanes, her name bringing concern for these past few days again. He runs a hand through his thick hair. “I hate being away.”
“Yeah, but shit happens, right?” Lo says. “You have to let her figure out how to deal some nights on her own.” He pauses. “You have two more days here. At least you’re not away for three goddamn months.”
The air thins a little. When Loren went to rehab, he left Lily for three months, around the time where she was struggling with her own addiction.
Ryke stares at the floor. “You know what’s funny,” he says, his voice deep and raw. “When I was looking after Lily while you were away, I gave her such a hard fucking time.” He makes a growling noise. “If anyone did that to Dais…” He shakes his head. “I’m such a fucking asshole.”
Lo puts his hand on his shoulder. “Welcome to the goddamn club.”
“I’ll happily decline my membership,” I tell both of them.
Ryke rolls his eyes and Lo just laughs.
The tension breaks, but in the back of my head, I wonder how long it’ll be until one of my friends finds out what Rose and I have been doing with the media, who it’ll be, and how many voices will begin to complicate our world.
26
ROSE COBALT
I peruse a wall display of dildos and vibrators, my shoulders stiff as I indiscreetly look outside the store windows for the umpteenth time. Take the photograph, Walter. My cell never buzzes in confirmation, so I have to meander around the shelves longer.
I snatch a leather whip off a dominatrix display and twirl it around, feeling a little destructive today. This isn’t my first time in an adult store. In college, I went a few times, when there weren’t cameramen chasing me and the only people who really cared about my business were nosy women in my mother’s social circle.
Online shopping may be more discreet, but I like being informed about my product choices. The employees here know more than I do about sex toys. Growing up, I never had mental blocks at the idea of masturbating, but I always froze at being intimate with someone else.
“Cool…yeah, man. Just give Lily and Lo space. The more you crowd around them, the less likely they are to do it. I’ll talk to them for you, okay?” It sounds nothing like my husband, but yet, that’s his voice. He crests the corner, at the end of my aisle with his cell braced to his ear.