Home > Thrive (Addicted #2.5)(64)

Thrive (Addicted #2.5)(64)
Author: Krista Ritchie

I wish I could snap-shot it and save it for later. Maybe because I have a feeling. One that hits me as he hugs me to his chest. We’ve never let ourselves be excited about something further down the road. Two addicts constructing a future together: when I think of it like that, it all begins to sound like make-believe.

Too rooted in fantasy to ever come true.

PART THREE

“Love is for souls, not bodies.”

– Scarlet Witch, Giant-Size Avengers Vol 1 #4

41

1 year : 06 months

February

LOREN HALE

Daisy bounces on the diving board with a devious smile, staring right at my brother. He sits with me at a black iron patio table with plates of burgers and fries.

“Just because she’s eighteen—” I can’t even get the words out.

“I f**king know,” he says.

She does a cannonball close to the wall’s edge, splashing our feet. My father’s indoor pool is decorated with yellow streamers to celebrate her eighteenth birthday.

According to Lily, Daisy’s initial plans had been to tube down the Delaware River, but it’s too cold for that, so my father offered his estate instead. It took Rose seven days to convince their mom to let Daisy have a small party with just family and close friends.

“I’m only looking out for her,” I say with edge. Daisy doesn’t know my brother like that. She can’t possibly see how many girls he screws. I don’t think “long-term relationship” is even a word in his vocabulary.

He quickly changes the topic. “You never mentioned that Dad has an indoor pool.” He dunks a fry in barbecue sauce. Ryke usually stays a hundred feet away from this house at all times, hating our dad that much. Even though Ryke is physically here, he won’t make eye contact with Jonathan Hale, who stands by the bar with Greg Calloway.

“He also has a putting green outside, a home theatre, and a spa.” I flash a half-smile.

My biting tone just rolls off his back by now. “Did you swim here a lot?” he asks, prying. Like he wants to make up for lost time.

“When I was a little kid, Lily and I used to sneak down here a bunch of nights,” I say, offering him something.

His hard features darken. “If you say to have sex—”

“We were like…seven.” I scowl. “It was innocent.” We’d dare each other to jump in, all the lights off, the bottom black and murky in the darkness. I’d always end up pushing her in, and she’d scream and try to kick back to me. “One night we woke up the staff, and the butler ended up telling my dad that we’d been swimming.”

“What’d he do?” Ryke asks, his elbows on the table, his focus set on me. Whenever we talk about our dad, it’s always in context with me. His past with our father—it’s like an abyss, a hazy picture that I can’t see. It’s still weird that he’s had conversations with Jonathan Hale where I wasn’t there, talks as a young kid that I know nothing about.

“After he found out?” I say. “He locked the pool.” I toss my crumpled napkin on the table.

“He was worried about you drowning?”

“No,” I say sharply, irritation bearing down on me the longer we discuss this shit. “He asked me if I wanted to swim competitively. I told him no. So he told me that the pool wasn’t a privilege that I’d earned yet.” Before my brother can say anything, I ask, “Was he like that with you?”

“Kind of,” he says vaguely, staring off at the glass walls that overlook a courtyard. Rain beats against the panes.

“How’s your mom?” I prod a bit further.

“I don’t know. Fine, I guess.” He hasn’t talked to her in forever. Not since she leaked Lily’s sex addiction to the press.

“Wow, it’s nice talking to you, big bro. Let’s do this again sometime. I get so much out of it.”

He shoots me a look. Yeah, he’s been there for me many times, more than I can describe. “I don’t talk to my mom, and I sure as f**king hell don’t talk to my dad, so I don’t see what there is to say.”

“Did you ever like Dad?” I ask. “Like growing up?” That’s what I want to know.

“Sure,” he says. “In the beginning.” He chugs his can of Fizz and then nods to me. “Have you heard anything from Scott?”

I’ll take the deflection, only because I do have an opinion on this. “He texted me twice, once to say: I’m in Barbados, bitch. And then another time to send me an actual picture of himself tanning on a damn yacht.” I blocked his number after that. Like I need to be reminded that he’s profiting off of Connor and Rose’s sex tapes.

“Motherfucker,” Ryke mutters under his breath. “I hate that Connor threw out the lawsuit. I tried talking to him about it, and he told me to f**k off.”

I actually laugh.

Ryke extends his arms. “Why is that funny?”

“Because Connor told me that you yelled at him like ‘a Neanderthal trying to debate higher knowledge’—it was funny.”

“Hilarious,” Ryke says dryly. “You can’t honestly agree with him.”

“No way,” I say. “I don’t care if he’s using the publicity to grow his diamond company. Scott is sunbathing on a yacht and swimming in his pools of cash. That sick f**k deserves to be in a prison.”

“Or at least bankrupt,” Ryke says with tense muscles.

Lily squeals, and we both turn our heads to the pool. She’s on Daisy’s shoulders, trying to knock off Rose who sits on Connor’s, playing a game of chicken.

“Get her bikini strap!” Daisy yells.

Lily tries the dirty move, unclipping Rose’s black bathing suit top, but Rose swats her hand away.

“Cheating!” Rose accuses. “I win.”

Connor grins and speaks to her in French.

“Nooo way,” Daisy says with a laugh. “That is so legal.”

Lily is in a one-piece, so Rose can’t retaliate.

“Are we just going to leave Scott Van Wright to him?” Ryke asks me.

“Isn’t that what you’ve always done?” I turn back to my brother.

He nods. “Yeah, I guess it is. We have to choose our battles, don’t we?”

“Yeah.” And Connor wouldn’t want us stepping near that one.

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.

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