Ricochet (Addicted #1.5)

by Krista Ritchie

  “I want to do it again,” I admit in a small voice.

  “I know.” He rubs his lips in thought.

  “So…then can we do it together again…tonight?” He’s just mad I did it without him, surely.

  “We’re done for today,” he says, each word like a mountain he has to climb.

  “But I only came twice.” Fear pushes into my chest, making it difficult to breathe.

  “And I was only going to let you come once,” he says. “I tried to exhaust you with foreplay, but it’s hard. I should have made you wait longer, and you should have listened to me afterwards. We’re going to get better at it though, but it’ll take time and practice.”

  So that’s it for me. I’m not allowed to have any kind of self-love, and Lo is done for the night. I don’t want to do something moronic when he leaves. Don’t think about it, Lily. I let out a deep breath, but it barely calms me.

  “Talk to me,” Lo says urgently. He rests his forearms on his bent knees. “What are you thinking, Lil?”

  “I’m scared,” I mutter. “…I’m so terrified of what I may do.” I feel hot, searing tears scald tracks down my cheeks.

  “I know it’s difficult. I can’t imagine someone giving me one beer and forcing me to stop there. I get it, Lil. I so fucking get it,” he says. “But you have to find the strength to wait. I know it’s there. You just have to dig.”

  I let his words sink in for a full minute. A pain weighs on my chest, and it explodes with my next proclamation. “I wish you were here.” My chin quivers, and my voice gives out. I press my forehead to my knees, hiding my shattered expression.

  “I am there, love,” he murmurs. “I’m right there with you.” I hear the hurt in his voice. He tries to relax as much as possible, but it’s as though I’m gripping his heart as much as he’s clenching mine. “You’re in my arms,” he tells me, “and I’m kissing your lips, your cheek, your nose…” I shut my eyes and drift to his voice that begins to settle my torment. “Your head leans against my chest, and you listen to the beat of my heart as it slows. I hold your wrists, allowing you to gently come down from your high on my terms. You collapse against me.”

  I look up to meet his gaze. It’s filled with hope, with longing and something more. Something that I think can only be shared between two broken people.

  “And you stop struggling,” he whispers. “I watch your body relax against me, and then I kiss you on the top of your head. I tell you how proud I am of you, and how making you come once lasts a lifetime.”

  My last tear falls. I can’t move to wipe it. I am transfixed by Loren Hale, my everything.

  “I love you,” he says again, “and no other man will ever say those words and mean them the way I do.”

  My chest hurts so badly. His words are beautiful and painful at the same time. Like us, I suppose. I have to be strong. For him. For me. For us. My throat has swollen, but I find the resolve to reply. “I’m going to spend the rest of the night with Rose.” I nod, solidifying the plan in my head.

  “That’s a good idea,” he agrees. “How about you clean yourself up. Get dressed. Tell me goodbye, and then I’ll call Rose and make sure you’re with her.”

  I nod again. I’d like that. So much. Having him on my side makes the unbearable feel tolerable. I just hope in the future our struggle will become easier.

  Hope. Such a silly thing.

  Sometimes it doesn’t come true.

  {11}

  A few days later Rose has finally finished decorating our house and decides that we need a proper housewarming party to commemorate the event. She also wants to coincide this with a “Lily Vow Day” or LVD for short. She coined the term and also proposed the idea.

  Writing down my vows on a piece of paper and reading them aloud is supposed to reinforce my long-term goals. I was all on board until she invited Connor and Ryke. I reminded her that she’s a feminist and supposed to be on my side. I’m the girl.

  She responded with “you shouldn’t be ashamed of your addiction” and “it’ll give you more incentive not to break the vows.” Because apparently I’ll feel way more guilty breaking vows that three people hear rather than just Rose…okay, she has a point.

  “I don’t understand why we had to do this outside,” I complain, wrapping my arms in one of Rose’s fur coats that are way warmer than anything in my closet. Topped with my Star Wars Wampa cap that has large ear flaps, I literally look like some sort of furry monster.

  “I didn’t want to start a fire in the house,” she says. A light layer of snow coats the ground, but grass still manages to stick out of the powder. A fire roars in a metal trashcan a couple feet in front of us. The flames lick the nippy air, and I question how Rose even started it to begin with.

  Though it can’t be rocket science. Hobos do it.

  The glass backdoor slides open and Rose says, “Finally, what took you so long?” After the Fizzle event in January, Rose and Connor have shockingly stayed together. But I’m waiting for their next twenty-four-hour break up.

  Connor’s loafers crunch against the snow as he walks towards us. “Driving generally requires time,” he tells her. “Simple physics really. Time equals distance divided by speed.”

  “I know the formula for time, Connor.”

  “I know, you know,” he replies with a smile. “I just like the way your forehead wrinkles when you think I’m insulting you.”

  “When you are insulting me.”

  “That’s your perspective,” he says and looks to me. “Hi, Lily. Big day.”

  I shrug nonchalantly, and Rose gives me a hard stare. “It is a big day, Lily,” she reinforces. “This is when you commit to getting better.”

  “Right,” I say with a nod. “I think I’m just nervous.”

  Connor frowns. “Why? Isn’t this the easy part? You’ve been away from Lo for nearly three months and you haven’t cheated,” he pauses and adds, “according to Rose.”

  “I haven’t cheated,” I affirm. “I’m just not a hundred-percent comfortable talking about this stuff yet.” I’ve kept my addiction a secret so long that sharing requires a lot more courage than someone like Connor or Rose could ever understand.

  “It will feel better when you get everything off your chest,” Rose assures me. She turns to look at the house and then glances anxiously at her watch. Her lips purse before she says, “Ryke better be here soon. The housewarming party starts in fifteen minutes.”

  Daisy, Poppy, my parents and basically the whole brood are invited, and they cannot witness this act of symbolic declaration. The rest of my family remains in the dark about my addiction until I decide I’m ready to tell them. I’m not sure if that day will come anytime soon.

  “Shouldn’t you have waited for Lo to have the party?” Connor asks. “He’s going to be living here, right?”

  Lo will move into our little secluded house. I talked with Dr. Banning and she agreed that we should live together if we want to continue to have a relationship. The only stipulation and change from our normal routine is that we actually have to live together. No more separate rooms and secret lives. At this juncture, we may be co-dependent but our addiction to each other may very well kick our other ones. Helping rather than enabling. If Dr. Banning thinks Lo is a huge key to my success (not an obstacle), then I believe it. She’s smarter than me after all.

  Rose will still be living at the house too, making sure Lo and I mingle with the family instead of resorting to our reclusive ways. The plan actually seems feasible. But I know it may not be easy. Nothing ever is.

  I asked her if she was going to invite Connor to stay with us. There’s an extra bedroom for him if she wanted to still have privacy. But I forgot that Connor attends Penn, too far away to permanently reside here. However, her answer didn’t involve distance. She told me that their relationship hasn’t progressed to that status yet, and she wouldn’t be comfortable asking him. I read between the lines.

  They haven’t had sex.

  Rose may be t
he most confident woman I know, but when it comes to talking about her sex life—she might as well turn as red as me. She can read textbooks and clinically diagram the reproductive system without blushing. Hell, she impersonated me, acting as though she had a sex addiction to dozens of therapists. But telling someone about herself is like pulling rotten teeth. She tries to keep her private life private, but I think it’s more than that. I think she’s scared to admit how she feels. She wants people to think she’s this ice queen, but in reality, she fears just like the rest of us.

  Sometimes I think we’re more alike than different. Maybe that’s why we’re sisters.

  Rose turns to answer Connor’s question. “Lo would hate this party. I’m doing him a favor.”

  She has a point.

  “Do you think he’s going to be pissed you’re living with us?” I ask Rose with a smile. She’s never been his favorite person. Honestly, I just hope I can survive in the same vicinity as them. They may kill each other or kill me in the crossfire.

  “He’ll have to deal,” Rose snaps.

  Connor looks to me. “You and Lo need to live alone together like a fat kid needs to live in Candyland,” he pauses, realizing this could be taken as either good or bad, depending on “perspective.” So he adds, “He’d die.”

  I gape, an image of a chubby kid’s corpse popping in my head, his cheeks stuffed with candy corn. My open mouth contorts into an extreme downturned frown, grossed out at the disturbing metaphor. “Ewwww…” I cringe and wiggle my arms to shake off the image.

  Rose rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling at his response. That’s why they’re together, I think.

  The back door whooshes open again and Rose gives Ryke a cold scowl as he bounds over. “I said to be here at five o’clock.”

  “There’s fucking traffic everywhere,” he snaps back and stuffs his fists in his black North Face jacket. When he sidles next to me, his eyes immediately rise to my cap. “What the hell is on your head?”

  “Wampa.”

  He stares at me blankly.

  “Star Wars.”

  “You look ridiculous,” he says and then turns to Connor. “Did you know what that was?”

  “I didn’t care, so I didn’t ask,” Connor tells him dryly.

  Ryke glowers and I sense something bad coming. The two of them are still not warming to each other. I’m really not sure what it will take.

  “You’re a tool,” Ryke says, blunt but not in a Connor Cobalt endearing way. He’s just kind of mean.

  “Why are you here again?” Connor asks.

  Ryke’s jaw hardens. “I’m Lily’s friend.”

  “Well, I’m Rose’s boyfriend and Lily’s friend,” Connor says. “I don’t know if you’re good at math but…” He flashes his prep school smile. Oh…Connor…

  Rose smacks him lightly on the arm. “Stop, we’re here for Lily. The two of you, get a grip. We don’t have much time left.”

  She hands me a black plastic bag and I take a quick peek inside, already knowing it contains the very last of my porn. I forgot about one of the shoeboxes in the back of my closet the last time I threw everything away.

  “So I guess I just toss this stuff in?” I turn to Rose for instruction. She nods and I take a couple steps forward.

  “Don’t catch on fire. You’re made of fur,” Ryke warns me. Oh yeah. I stop a foot away and slowly pull a couple of the magazines from the bag. I roll them up so that Connor and Ryke can’t tell what they are. I really don’t need to add to my embarrassment today.

  “Goodbye, porn,” I say under my breath and toss them in one-by-one as quick as I can. The fire cracks and sparks and I step back a little. Now I am kind of scared I’ll catch on fire.

  Hurriedly, I finish with the magazines and throw the empty bag in last.

  “Now your vows,” Rose announces. “Read them out loud.”

  Right. I stuff my hand in the pocket and pull out a slip of paper. My fingers are already pink from the cold, but I manage to fold it open quickly anyway.

  I only have a few items on my list, but each one is a little painful to say. At least in front of Rose, Connor, and Ryke. They move around the trash can so that I can see them clearly, which makes this even harder.

  “One,” I say in a small voice. “I will not look at porn.”

  “I thought this was supposed to be a proclamation.” Ryke rocks on the balls of his feet. He leans forward and says, “I can’t even hear you.”

  “Say it like you mean it,” Rose agrees with a supportive nod.

  “Scream it,” Connor adds.

  The fire lets out another loud crack and it triggers something in me. Or maybe the unbridled confidence of my friends does. I take a deep breath before I yell, “I will not look at porn!”

  Ryke starts clapping. Connor lets out a whistle with his fingers, and Rose gives me a smile. The pressure on my chest builds but also lightens with each word. In this moment, maybe their confidence is contagious.

  “Two. I will not masturbate!”

  They’re still cheering and I focus on the paper in my cold fingers.

  “Three. I will not be compulsive about sex!” I scream it, and yet I know this will be the hardest vow to live by. The most difficult to control.

  “And four,” I pause as I look at these final words. They mean the absolute most to me. “I will not cheat on Loren Hale!”

  My blood is pumping from the fire, my friend’s supportive cheers, and my words—so much so that I toss the paper triumphantly into the flames.

  “What the hell?!” Rose shrieks. I jolt backwards and check my arms to make sure I haven’t caught on fire. I’m okay though. I touch my cap. Wampa’s fine too.

  “What?” I ask, confused now.

  I look back up and see Rose about to faint in distress. “You burned it,” she says like I’m the one who lost my mind.

  “I thought I was supposed to.”

  “Why would you burn your vows? They’re supposed to help you.”

  “Then what’s the fire for?” I point at it accusingly.

  “For the porn, Lily.” Rose groans into her hands and looks up. “Okay, we have to do it again.”

  “No,” we all say unanimously.

  Rose turns on Connor first. “This is important,” she complains, her hands going to her hips. She means business, but I have no intention of repeating this. I think one LVD is enough for a lifetime.

  “She read it aloud. Isn’t that the point, Rose?” Connor asks.

  “It’s bad luck.”

  “Please tell me you’re not superstitious.” Connor tilts his head, scanning the length of her as though she’s morphed into a gypsy—the magical kind, not the gaudy ones you see on TLC. “Are you going to tell me you practice witchcraft and sorcery too?”

  “This isn’t the seventeenth century, Richard,” Rose snaps. “If it was, I suppose you’d have me burned at the stake.”

  “I wouldn’t have the chance. I’d already be dead.”

  “For what? Being a smartass?”

  He edges closer to Rose, only a couple feet away, and I’m surprised when she stands her ground, not taking one step back. His eyes flit across her porcelain cheeks, her pink nose from the cold, and her striking cat-colored eyes. “I would mention how the Earth revolves around the sun, and they’d cry heretic. You, of course, would be accused of heresy or witchcraft by eighteen.”

  “I’d survive,” she declares.

  “You would,” he nods. “You’d cut your beautiful hair in order to.” His fingers skim her brown glossy locks that stop at her chest.

  “You think if I cut my hair I would look like a boy?” she retorts, defensive. I guess to protect herself back then, she would need to be a man. She jerks out of his grasp, eyes as cold as ice.

  He doesn’t shrink back. He takes the challenge with a fervent smile. “I think you would make an effort to, and I’d keep my smart ass lips shut so I didn’t die.” He looks her over. “Then I’d pretend to be with a man just so I could do thi
s.” One of his hands slides across her neck, the other cups her face, and he presses his lips to hers, drawing her closer as they kiss.

  Her hands hang loose by her side, and as he melds his chest to her, closing every gap, she relaxes her arms around his shoulders. Internally, I’m waving Connor Cobalt and Rose Calloway flags, cheering them on.

  When they part, their warm breath smokes the cold air. Rose’s eyes are surprisingly soft, but her words remain fiery. “And then we’d both be dead,” she reminds him. “We’d be hung for sodomy.”

  “Then I’d die with you. Happily.” He grins, and her lips rise in an equally infatuated smile.

  And then the doorbell rings, breaking their moment and successfully ruining Rose’s pleasant mood. “I still have to put out the fire,” she says in distress.

  Connor squeezes her arms lightly, and her attention returns to him. “I’ll go mingle with your mother. Take your time, hun.” He kisses her softly on the cheek and disappears inside the sliding glass doors.

  It’s in this moment that I realize how well Connor knows my sister. Most guys would choose to save the girl from manual labor. But Rose would rather delay any conversation with our mother. As she walks off to find something to smother the fire, Ryke approaches me with a stiff gait, his hands still firmly pocketed in his jacket.

  I lick my chapped lips, as hesitant as him. “What?” I wonder if he’s going to chastise me for something I did with Lo. Maybe talking to him again. He’s never been on my team. Not really. He’s sided with Lo far more often.

  “I’m sorry,” he says, the words sounding so sincere that I almost stumble back in shock.

  “Huh?”

  He rolls his eyes, his features darkening. “Don’t make me say it again.”

  My brows crinkle, and I tug the flaps of my Wampa cap lower to shield my flush and the incoming gust of wind, not sure what else to say since he’s left me in a state of confusion.

  He runs a hand through his hair. “I thought you’d cheat on him and break the guy’s soul,” he admits. “I didn’t think you could do it. And I was wrong.” He pauses and then his eyes meet mine, and I see Lo in them. “I’m sorry for being an asshole, for not understanding…I think that he needs you as much as you need him.” He nods to himself, as though realizing how right those words are as he says them.