Addicted to You

by Krista Ritchie

  My mother processes his words for a small moment before she nods slightly. With pursed lips she passes us for the car. Poppy remains, disappointment coating her eyes. “Rose is inside, but I don’t think she wants to talk to you right now. Give her some time to cool down.”

  Poppy leaves before I can say anything else. Not that I have anything other than another pathetic apology.

  I can’t wait until tomorrow. It hurts too much to not at least confront her. I start towards the building but Lo grabs my wrist.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I have to talk to her.”

  “Did you not just hear Poppy?” Lo says with wide eyes. “Let Rose calm the fuck down. Unless you want your heart ripped out.” Maybe I do. Maybe I deserve it.

  Connor pushes open the glass doors with his shoulder, his hands preoccupied with texting. I bolt for him, and when he looks up, his face darkens.

  “How is she?” I ask, glancing past him for a peek.

  He steps in front of me, blocking me from any visual or entrance. “Not happy,” he says, his voice tight.

  “Where’s Ryke?” Lo wonders with a frown.

  “He left. He was sick.”

  “I think it was something we ate,” I say.

  Connor’s eyebrows furrow in disbelief. “Was that before or after you left to screw in the car?”

  I stumble back from the blow to the gut. My shoulders hit Lo’s chest and this time I let him wrap an arm around my waist.

  “Hey, back off, Connor,” Lo warns.

  Connor barely blinks. “I’ve been around you both long enough to know that the bathroom breaks aren’t for synchronized bladder attacks. Which is fine. Your sex life is frankly none of my business.” He glances back at the building and then looks to me. “You should go,” he suggests.

  “I want to apologize first.”

  “Why?” Connor’s tone stays flat and edged. I’ve insulted him or disgusted him in some way. The one person I thought was unable to be repulsed by me.

  “She needs to know I’m sorry.”

  “She’s happy,” Connor tells me. “She sold her line to Macy’s and has an offer from H&M. Don’t ruin that by trying to make yourself feel better. Just leave, Lily.”

  I don’t know what else to do. So I take the advice and disappear.

  * * *

  The next day I try calling Rose’s cell almost every hour with no luck. After my tenth attempt at reconciliation, I toss the phone onto the floor and scream into my pillow. This is why I don’t do family functions. This is why I don’t have friends. I disappoint everyone.

  My door opens and I turn my back on Lo who shuffles inside. “She’ll forgive you, Lil. Maybe not me…but definitely you.”

  I cringe. My mother thought his spiked hormones ruined the night, but it was all me. I hate that he’s taking the blame this time.

  Lo sits on the foot of the bed and tentatively places a hand on my ankle. Instantly, I pull away and rise to the headboard. “I don’t…” I mutter.

  His eyebrows bunch together in concern. “Do you want to quit?” And what? Be celibate? I don’t even know what quitting sex means. How do you quit something that’s engrained in human nature?

  “Maybe. No. I don’t know.” Should I get rid of my porn? But what will happen a week from now when I realize this won’t work. I’ll just have to rebuy my entire stash. Not worth it.

  “I’ll support you in whatever you decide,” Lo tells me.

  Guilt stops me from having sex. Literally driving all of my hormones into a state of perpetual chastity. I bury my head into my knees. I need to make a decision, but I’ve been ping-ponging between choices. It was one mistake, spurned from being around my family. I just have to separate myself again. Distance. Once I apologize to Rose, I’ll back off and everything will return to normal. Clean and compartmentalized.

  “I’m going to talk to Rose,” I decide. “Then we’ll have sex.”

  He kisses my temple. “I’ll be here, love.” He nibbles my ear.

  I grab a pillow and playfully whack him in the chest. He smiles but respects my wishes and stops from sexily wrestling it from me. In part he looks a bit relieved. I know I haven’t been the best company, all mopey and self-involved.

  I slide from the bed. I’m going to confront her now when I have the chance. Tomorrow she’ll be back at Princeton and I’ll be too busy trying not to fail my classes to drive and see her. “Do you think she’ll let me in?”

  “Tough call. Depends if she finally got laid,” Lo says.

  I give him a hard glare and he holds up his hands in peace. I’m proud that my sister hasn’t given up her V card to just anyone.

  Quickly, I brush my hair, grab my coat and leave Lo in the kitchen where he starts fixing himself a mild afternoon drink. On the way to Villanova I try to formulate a speech, but by the time I get to the house, everything flutters away.

  I dodge the staff that mills around the mansion and climb the grand staircase toward Rose’s old room where she stays when she visits. I knock a couple of times before the door swings open. As soon as her green-yellow eyes hit me, her lips purse and her entire body goes rigid like she’s practicing to be a guard for the Queen of England.

  “We need to talk,” I say, glad that the door hasn’t hit me in the face yet. That’s something.

  She continues to block the entrance into her room. I’m obviously unwelcome in her sanctuary. I’ve really screwed up this time. “What is there to talk about? You had sex with Loren during my fashion show. I’m done being surprised or hurt or shocked, Lily,” she says, removed from the drama.

  “I’m sorry.” I touch my chest. “You don’t know how sorry I am. I promise I’ll be a better sister.”

  Rose shakes her head, brows furrowing. “Stop, Lily. I’m tired of your promises. You’ll always choose Lo. And the two of you will never give a shit about anyone else. You’re selfish, and unless I want to go through life constantly disappointed, I’ve learned to accept that character flaw. You should do the same.”

  Her cellphone rings in the background and she glances back, still not offering to let me inside. “I have to go. It’s Macy’s.” She shuts the door before I can even utter the word congratulations. Maybe I should have started with that.

  I contemplate her words on the ride home, and wonder if she’s right. If accepting the fact that I’m selfish and unable to change will help heal the guilt.

  If not—maybe sex will.

  {22}

  I make an effort to call Rose more often. For the most part she answers and gives me updates on Calloway Couture. Sometimes she’s short with me, but it’s better than slammed doors. While I try to heal my relationship with Rose and ignore the rest of my family, Lo spends time with Connor at the gym.

  Ryke continues to follow us around, and since the fashion show where—for one strange moment—Lo and Ryke seemed to band together, they’ve been much more cordial. Ryke has pretended to scribble notes for his fake article, but he usually tries to understand Lo. Last night, they started talking about their experience with nannies. One of Lo’s used to drink strawberry margaritas and was sloshed by noon. Apparently Ryke had a similar situation, only his nanny let him sip her mimosas and bloody marys. He was only eleven.

  I pull a brush through my wet hair while Lo rubs a towel through his. Shower sex. Classy.

  I almost can’t remember why I was so worried about my lifestyle. I’m more than capable of making everything work.

  Today the professor posted the econ grades online. As usual, Lo refuses to divulge his grade, but I earned a C+, which is practically an A+ in Connor’s mind. He insisted on celebrating. Only for Connor Cobalt can achievements wipe slates clean. Lo somehow squirmed back into his good graces too. After the fashion show stunt, I thought we’d be blacklisted from any events with Connor. But I think it all comes down to Rose. His one human weakness happens to be my sister. And if she’s forgiven me, then she’s probably ordered him to do the same.

  I’
m still trying to untangle my hair when Connor arrives with Ryke. Lo leaves to answer the door and I snap one of the comb’s teeth. Really? How is that even possible? I’ve finally acquired a superpower—indestructible hair. Super lame.

  My door stands open as I search for another comb. Or better yet, an actual brush to tackle these knots. I hear the guys in the living room, but they must not realize it because their conversation turns from the best pizza joints in Philly to me.

  “Whose idea was it to ditch the fashion show?” Ryke asks.

  “Is this for your article?” Lo wonders.

  “No, just curious.”

  “I wanted to fuck her. So I did. And didn’t you ditch the show too? What’s your excuse?”

  “I have a hot girlfriend that I wanted to fuck,” he banters. “No, really, I had food poisoning from that taco stand around the corner.”

  “We eat there all the time,” Lo says. “I’ve never been sick.” Does he think Ryke’s lying? He has no reason to. Actually, he probably wishes he could have stayed to witness my demise.

  “Then maybe it was bad milk in my cereal. I don’t know,” he says exasperatedly.

  Connor cuts in. “It was really your idea, Lo?”

  I close my eyes, hoping Lo rejects some of the blame.

  “She wasn’t exactly saying no.” Okay, I thought that would feel better.

  “It takes two to make love and only one person to make a mistake.” Connor must turn to Ryke as he says, “Write that down.”

  “It’s all up here.” I imagine him pointing to his head.

  “Do you have any friends?” Lo wonders in an easy tone. “We have to be seriously grating on you by now.”

  “Lily, definitely. Connor, maybe. You’re okay.”

  “Well you’re not my type of company either, Meadows,” Connor says casually, not offended.

  “I’m definitely writing that one down for the article.”

  “You should just quote everything I say, and I expect my name in the headline. Like ‘Children of Tycoons, featuring Connor Cobalt, an upcoming entrepreneur to look out for.’”

  “I’ll consider it, but my professor doesn’t like ending things with prepositions. So I think I’ll end it with, ‘featuring Connor Cobalt: You’ll want to kiss his ass.’”

  “Perfect,” Connor exclaims.

  I finally find a brush stuffed in my sock drawer and finish battling the knots. When I brace the kitchen, I see Lo pouring a glass of scotch. I sidle up next to him and he wraps an arm around my waist.

  Ryke mouths, Distract him.

  I shake my head. I am done trying to force Lo to do anything, not at the expense of our relationship.

  Ryke flips me off, and Connor’s too stuck in his cellphone to notice. I stick out my tongue at him, really mature, I know.

  Lo grabs my chin and turns my head towards him. “Did you just stick your tongue at him?” He wears an amused grin.

  I shake my head. “Nope.”

  “She did,” Ryke rats me out.

  “He flipped me off!” I refute.

  Lo kisses me on the lips, shutting me up. Oh… When he breaks, his warm breath hits my ear. “I love you.” My heart flutters at the words. Before I can reciprocate, his phone vibrates on the counter.

  I glimpse at the screen, my stomach dropping. “Maybe you shouldn’t answer it.”

  Lo takes the phone and presses the receiver to his ear. “Hey Dad.” He walks towards the bedroom for privacy.

  To preoccupy my mind, I go to the fridge and find a Cherry Fizz, popping the can. I remember I owe Connor a thousand bucks for passing my econ exam. I’m not in the mood to fish out my checkbook right now, but I’ll plan a search for it later. It may very well be hiding underneath my bed. Or in a random purse.

  “Connor,” I say, “Can I pay you later for our bet?”

  One of Ryke’s eyebrows arches. “What bet?”

  Connor distractedly answers and texts at the same time. “A thousand dollars on whether or not she would pass her econ exam. And Lily, I don’t want your money.”

  “Oh…”

  “However, I’d love a favor.” He has yet to look up at me.

  Ryke lets out a short laugh. “You would choose favors over cash.”

  Connor doesn’t argue.

  “What kind of favor?” I ask.

  “When you feel up to it, I think you should work for your sister. It doesn’t have to be now. Maybe sometime in the spring. She’s looking to hire an assistant at Calloway Couture, and I know she’d love for you to be involved.”

  My stomach sinks. “As much as I’d like to be working with my sister, I know nothing about fashion.”

  “That’s why you’re an assistant and not running the company.”

  “That doesn’t sound fun.” And how will I be able to take sex breaks? I can’t believe that’s all I can think about: how to schedule in porn, how to sneak Lo through her offices, how to find time to feed my desires.

  “Well, you lost the bet, so you owe me.”

  “Can’t I just pay you?”

  “No, that’s too easy.”

  I sigh, wondering if I’ll be able to squirm out of the deal as it approaches later in my life. Probably not, but by the time it happens, maybe I’ll be okay with my decision. So I nod. “Okay. I’ll be her assistant sometime in the future.”

  “Near future.” He types something in his phone and then stands. “I have to take this.” He presses the cell to his ear and heads into the living room. Leaving me alone with Ryke.

  I hop on the counters by the cabinets and face him.

  Ryke glances over his shoulder at the hallway where Lo disappeared. “Does he like his father? I can’t tell.”

  I shrug. “It depends on the day.”

  He turns back to me. “What’s he like?”

  “Jonathan Hale?”

  Ryke nods.

  “Lo doesn’t talk about him with you?” I’ve managed to dodge their boy outings by having breakfast with Rose the past week. I enjoy it more than I’ll let on.

  “Not much,” Ryke says. “Sometimes, he curses his father out, and then other times, he talks about the guy like he’s a god.”

  Sounds about right. “It’s complicated.”

  “How so?”

  “Look.” I lower my voice. “I know you’re not really writing an article, so you don’t need to ask these things.”

  Ryke rolls his eyes. “I fucking know that, Lily. I’m asking because I’m genuinely curious. No offense, but I care about your boyfriend more than I care about you.”

  I squint. “Are you sure you don’t have a crush on him?”

  He groans. “Seriously, Lily?”

  “What? It’s an honest question. You’re obsessed with Lo.”

  “I’m not obsessed. Don’t use that word. I’m just curious. I want to know him. Why do I have to be in love with him to want such a thing?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. It’s weird.” I can’t make sense of the strangeness. I feel like it’s there, but it’s not connecting. “Are you sure there isn’t something more?”

  “No. There’s not. Just go back to my first question. How’s Jonathan Hale complicated?”

  I focus on that and open my mouth, trying to form words to an enigmatic man. He doesn’t physically hit Lo, but he’s not earning any Father of the Year awards either. In one minute, Jonathan can wrap an arm around him and call him a great son. And then next, he can spit out hateful words. Lo’s mood fluctuates with his father’s temper, and whenever he interacts with him, you can see a switch. I assume that’s where Ryke’s concern originates.

  After I fail at describing Jonathan aloud, Ryke changes questions. “Do you talk to him a lot?”

  I shake my head. “He makes an effort to ignore me unless he wants to blame someone for Lo’s poor grades. Otherwise, I steer clear of the Hale household.”

  “Has he remarried?”

  “No. He brings a lot of girls over at night.” After Lo’s mom left when he was a
baby, Jonathan hired a nanny and started dating again. The number of women stumbling out of the house in the morning, wearing the same dress the night before, grew exponentially as the years ticked by.

  When I was sixteen, I remember shoveling scrambled eggs into my mouth while Lo tried to unlock his father’s liquor cabinet. Jonathan overslept after a night of his own debauchery. A woman in a slim black dress carried her red pumps and shuffled through the kitchen. She refused to look at us, instead keeping her sight on the door like it was a finish line in a 5K race. And I had a sudden urge to bolt up from my chair and pull her aside. To ask her if she liked the thrill of one-night stands as much as me. To talk and gossip about being two girls completely in control of their bodies. At the time, I felt closeted, like a slut with a secret. But I stayed in my seat, letting her leave and fantasizing about what she might have told me.

  I don’t know if Lo realizes that I learned about one-night stands from his father’s numerous flings. I hope not. And I’d never tell him.

  I return my focus back on Ryke who watches me too closely, as though reading my expression for his answers.

  Lo enters the kitchen with a clenched jaw and a pocketed phone. Oh no.

  “Everything okay?” Ryke asks.

  “Fine,” Lo says unconvincingly. He grabs his jacket off the chair and a bottle of bourbon from the counter. “Let’s go.”

  Ryke and I exchange worry, and we both follow Lo in close pursuit.

  * * *

  The necklace I gave Lo thumps against his chest as he dances with me. I touch the arrowhead and he clasps his hands in mine. He plants a light kiss on my cheek before distancing himself. I reach out, but he’s already gone, delegating himself king of the bar stool.

  He orders a slew of drinks while sweat gathers at the base of my neck, and I solo-dance on the floor, shedding off insecurities with the hypnotic music. I keep glancing back at the bar. Each time, Lo holds a new drink. I’ve evaded the phone call topic because Connor and Ryke always hang around him, and I’d rather not broach the subject in front of them.