Hothouse Flower (33 page)

< 51 >

RYKE MEADOWS

I put more salsa in my taco while Rose glares at
Connor, and he stares back in challenge. They’re usually strange, but they’re
being
really, really
fucking strange
right now.

He says, “
Buvez
avec
moi
.”
Drink with me.

Her nose flares as her eyes drop to the tequila. She
snatches the shot glass, not backing down, and she raises it towards her mouth.

I bite my taco, and when I glance at them, I notice that
Connor’s jaw has tightened, his gaze darkened. I feel like they’re playing a
risky game of chicken. Like when I was at the bar with Lo, back in Paris. I
sense the similarities in that and this, but my mind barely has time to add
these facts together.

Rose puts the rim of the shot to her lips. Connor grabs her
wrist and forces her hand down, the shot splashing as the glass meets the
table.

Lo’s
brows furrow, holding his
chicken taco. “What the fuck?”

Daisy freezes, a lime in her hand.

Connor stares harshly at Rose. “
Vous
êtes
allée
assez
loin.”
You’ve
taken this far enough.

Her eyes pierce him.

Connor shakes his head. “
Dites
-le
tout
simplement
.”
Just
say it.

She inhales sharply. “Ne
faites
pas
ça
.”
Don’t.

Connor edges closer to her, and she surprisingly doesn’t
pull away. He cups her face, his thumb stroking her cheek as he says, “
Vous
n’avez
rien
à
craindre
.”
You
have nothing to fear.

She tries to glance at us, but he forces her head straight
at him, making her come face-to-face with whatever she’s been hiding.

Rose has trouble surrendering and letting him win this long,
drawn out game. Her eyes glance down at the spilt tequila, and he puts his hand
over the top, telling her
no.
I
finish my taco and grab my water, taking a large swig.

Connor pinches her chin between his fingers, and he says, “
Vous
êtes
enceinte.”
You’re pregnant
.

I spit out my water.

Just like that. One word. Enceinte. And my cover is blown.

Fucking fuck.

They both turn their heads to look at me. For fuck’s sake—my
brother gapes like I’ve grown horns, and Lily might as well be catching flies
with her mouth.

Connor’s eyes continue to darken, his expression so rare
that my neck starts to heat uncomfortably.

“Why are you fucking looking at me like that?” I ask
defensively, backtracking. My efforts are useless. It’s Connor Cobalt. If my
brother figured out that I understood their conversation, then he definitely
has.

“
Vous
savez
pourquoi
.”
You
know why.
He keeps shaking his head like he can’t believe this. Maybe he’s
upset that he got something wrong. That he misread me. That I’ve been fucking
overhearing his dialogs for years. All of the above, once again.

My muscles harden, and Daisy puts her hand on my leg
underneath the table in comfort. I lace her fingers with mine and then nod at
Connor. “You should be less focused on me and more fucking concerned about your
pregnant wife, who almost drank a tequila shot to fucking one-up you.”

“What?” Lo says. He leans back like a hurricane just knocked
into him.

Rose glowers at
me
.
“Go choke on your water again.” That is an insult usually reserved for Lo.

I flip her off and she does the same thing in return, which
is an awful fucking rebuttal to the middle finger. It’s not like I’m asking her
if she knows how to do it too.

I’d love to remove myself from this whole awkward situation,
but we’re stuck at the same table together, forced to deal with serious issues
that we’ve kept from each other.

Lo has his hands on his head, his eyes darting between me
and Rose. “You both take birthday surprises to a new fucked up dimension.”

Rose blinks back tears. No wonder she’s been emotional this
whole trip. I’ve rarely ever seen her cry, and she’s shed probably more tears
in the past two weeks than she has in the past five years.

“Christ,” Lo says, realizing this too. He cringes, looking a
little guilty. She’s been hormonal, obviously going through something, and he’s
picked on her a lot. I mean, she didn’t even fucking tell Connor. She made him
figure it out.

But their relationship—that’s just how they do things, I
guess. I wouldn’t know unless I was in their heads. I’d rather a girl scream at
the top of her lungs and throw things at me, telling me she’s pregnant than
spend months solving a mystery.

Connor rotates a fraction to look back at Rose. “You’re five
weeks along.” He just states it, not as a question.

She holds her breath. “No.”

He frowns. “Seven?”

She shakes her head once.

He looks fucking pissed. He rubs his lips to hide the
emotion, but I see the hurt and anger pulsing in his eyes. “Eight weeks?”

She glares. “
Ne
me
regardez
pas
comme
ça
.”
Don’t look at me
like that.

They glance at me with agitation, realizing I understand
them now.

Rose sighs heavily, reaching for her water.
 

“What’d they say?” Lily asks.

“I’m not getting into it,” I tell her.

Rose says, “You’re mad, Richard, that you were off on your
numbers. I’m sorry you weren’t right—”

“No, darling,” Connor tells her with conviction. “I’m upset
because it took you this long to talk about it. I thought you would have
conceded a month in.”

“How long have you known?” she asks quietly.

“When you had a flat tire, I was almost positive. Your GPS
was set to the gynecologist, and you purposefully had a fight with me the next
day so I’d sleep on the couch. I figured the doctors confirmed what you already
knew, and you were too stubborn and afraid to tell me.”

Lo frowns and looks at Lily. “You knew?” She had been in the
car with Rose.

She nods, her shoulders turned into her body. “Moral
support.”

Connor glances at Lily cautiously before setting his gaze
back on his wife.

Rose sits stiffly, and her chin trembles. “This wasn’t the
plan. I’m not thirty-five yet.”

The waitress returns, cutting into possibly the most bizarre
way a pregnancy can be announced. At a Mexican restaurant. With a tequila shot
standoff. In French.

“Ready to order?” she asks.

“We need like ten minutes,” Daisy tells her.

She nods, her eyes lingering on Daisy’s scar before she
disappears. I can’t tell if the waitress recognizes us or not, but Daisy ends
up resting her head against my arm. I comb my fingers through her hair.

“You’re not aborting the baby,” Connor tells Rose.

“I know,” she retorts, fire coming back to her eyes. “You
want a lineage. Eight kids, I remember.”

“We’re married,” he says. “We have
billions
of dollars. We may be young, but we can be the best
parents. You just have to trust that you’ll be a great mother.”

I’ve seen Rose around kids. She’s about as maternal as a
fucking brick wall, her nose curling in disdain when a baby cries or acts out.
But I do know one thing—when she loves someone, she invests her whole fucking
heart and time into them.

After a long stretch of silence, Rose says softly, “I
thought about getting rid of the baby.”

Connor’s face stays unreadable. “I know.”

She swallows hard. “Lily talked me out of it.”

Lo kisses Lily’s temple. I think we’re all glad Rose didn’t
choose that option, even if she thought about it.

And I would feel worse for Connor if he didn’t already know
everything beforehand.

“I just…” Rose lets out a deep breath. “I figured that I had
a couple of months before my body started to really change. Two months to
ignore the fact that my world is going to flip upside down and a creature is
going to grow inside of me. Give me that.”

He smiles. “I did, darling.”

“So,” Lo says, holding his water, “how exactly do two
geniuses
accidentally
get pregnant?”
He sips his drink in amusement.

Rose starts putting her frizzy, wet hair in a sleek pony.
“Why don’t you answer this one, Richard? You’re friends with Satan’s spawn.”

Lo laughs. “I think you’ve mistaken me for the ‘creature’
growing inside you.”

Connor raises his hand to quiet them. Rose looks ready to
pelt my brother with the contents of her purse. There’s probably a canister of
pepper spray in there.

“We have unprotected sex,” Connor announces.

Rose points at me at this.
Fuck.
“You better be wearing a condom with her.”

My face hardens. I already told her I’d be safe with Daisy.
They all need to chill the fuck out. “That’s none of your fucking business,
Rose.”

Daisy ends up saying it anyway, just to appease her sister.
“I’m on birth control.”

“So was I,” Rose snaps. “And I
never
missed a day.” She prides herself on this fact.

“Then what the fuck happened?” I ask, extending my arm in
confusion.

“Birth control is only ninety-nine percent effective,”
Connor says. “We’re, of course, in the one-percent.”

Rose smacks him on the arm for that comment, and he grabs
her wrist and kisses her deeply. She melts. I stop fucking watching.

And then I meet eyes with my brother, with Lo. He has his
arm wrapped around Lily, and even with the news, he looks more at peace now, in
this moment, than he did three days ago.

“So you know French,” he says to me.

“Yeah, I know French.”

Connor holds Rose’s hand on the table, and he nods to me.
“Where’d you learn?”

“Tutors as a kid, like you and Rose.”

“I taught myself, actually,” Connor says with a
million-dollar grin.

Lo claps slowly. “Congratulations, love.”

Connor only smiles wider, and I share it as well,
surprisingly.

Lily perks up. “I’ve learned some French too.” She clears
her throat. I think we’re all laughing internally, not at her, just fucking
with her. She’s goofy as hell. In a more American accent, she says, “Comment
allez-vous
?”
How are
you?

Connor replies with a genuine smile, “Je ne
pourrais
pas
être
plus
heureux
.”
I couldn’t
be happier.

Rose relaxes into Connor’s body. And Lily looks really
fucking confused. He’s already lost her.

Daisy slides her misshapen pumpkin napkin over to me. I
squeeze her hand beneath the table. And for a brief second, I think about after
California, after my climb. Back in Philly. Her parents… it doesn’t seem like
they should be a big roadblock. I’m twenty-five. But your family doesn’t just
leave when you become an adult. They’re a part of you forever.

I add to the whole table, “Je
serais
génial
,
mais
je sais
ce
qui me fait
toujours
obstacle.”
I would be great, but I know what still
stands in my way.

Lo claps again. “Color me impressed,” he tells me. He turns
to Lily. “You’re almost fluent, love.”

She punches him in the chest, and he mock winces, acting
like it hurt. They’re both smiling.

My eyes flicker up to Connor, who stares at me with
understanding and more compassion.

He says, “Tout
ira
bien
,
mon
ami
.”
Everything will be fine, my friend.

Connor has said that he doesn’t believe in magic, but his
words hold a possession all on their own, filling me with serenity, a temporary
calmness, that I am grateful to have before my climb.

Everything will be
fine, my friend.

I nod a couple times.

Everything will be
fine.

< 52 >

DAISY CALLOWAY

California.

We’ve made it. The national park is beautiful, and I’d revel
in the atmosphere of Yosemite on any other day, but it’s hard when we’re in the
brush, a giant rock looming one hundred feet in front of us. El Capitan is
larger than Devils Tower. More ominous. But it does have a kinder name.

The sun isn’t even out yet. It’s 5 a.m. and
Ryke
plans to start climbing in the dark with a headlamp.
He wants to climb three routes in under twenty-four hours. It’s going to take
endurance, strength and a dose of luck. It’s that luck part that I’m worried
about. Everything else—I know he’ll ace.

Ryke
talks to a park ranger at the
base of El Capitan, nodding a few times. He ties his bag of chalk around his
waist.

I pluck yellow weedy flowers by my feet in the brush,
twisting the stems to make a crown. Every time I look up at
Ryke
,
my heart thuds. I’ve never been this anxious for someone else before.

Rose slaps her arm and curses out the mosquitos. She sits on
a wooden bench behind me.

“I told you not to wear perfume, darling,” Connor says
casually, sitting beside her.

Rose gives him a look. “I’m not going to sacrifice smelling
good for stupid flies.” She swats another away.

“You smell good without it.”

She narrows her eyes. “It’s Chanel. If I don’t wear it, I
feel like half of myself is missing.”

Lo sits on top of a picnic table beside the bench, Lily’s
head on his lap as she sleeps. “That’s because you mask your bitch scent,” he
says. “And your soul leaves when it realizes it’s inhabited the wrong host.”

“And I’m sure your brain cells fried coming up with that
insult,” she refutes.

Before Lo can retort, other voices shout over him. “Daisy,
are you and
Ryke
together?!”

“Daisy, just one question!”

“Are you scared about
Ryke’s
climb?!”

“Hey,” Lo snaps at the seven or eight reporters congregated
about twenty feet behind us, camera crews in place, lenses pointed at us and
Ryke
. “Calm down. We have twenty-four hours and I
personally don’t want to go deaf by the end of this.”

I stand in front of the wooden benches and picnic tables, so
I turn my head to see Lily awakening from all the commotion.

“Did he fall?” she asks in alarm, her eyes snapping open.

“No, love. He’s okay.”

She exhales loudly. “Okay, good.”

A lump lodges in my throat. I’m not the only one concerned
today.

The cameramen start flashing pictures at me, catching my
face. When we left Nevada, word circulated about
Ryke’s
solo climb. Apparently he had to register with the state parks, and those
documents leaked to the press.

I think
Ryke
would be more nervous
about the media being so close to us today if it wasn’t for our team of
security drawing a line between the cameras and our benches. So at least we can
pretend to ignore them.
Mikey
is here, shaking his
head at a couple of the guys who shout questions out to me.

It’s still early in the morning, so we expect a lot more
people to show up, probably some fans too.

My father also sent a note with
Mikey
:

We need to talk about
Ryke
.

Love, Dad

Having my parents find out about the relationship from a
tabloid was not ideal, but it was the risk we both chose to take.

And I only received one text from my mom, not even a phone
call.

I’m interviewing the
best plastic surgeons in the city. You’ll be okay.
– Mom

I asked Connor to send out a tweet (he’s the only one with a
Twitter account) to tell people what happened. The rumors from the leaked
photograph were horrendous. They ranged from a knife fight to rape. And then
both.

Connor’s tweet set everyone straight.

@
ConnorCobalt
:
Daisy is fine. Her scar is from the Paris
Rugby riot. Thanks for all the well wishes.

And of course he had to add a second tweet.

@
ConnorCobalt
:
Apparently, I need to clarify for some of
you. No. She was not raped afterwards.

He told me that the second tweet was for the media sites
that love to stir stories out of nothing. I appreciated it, especially since it
meant that I didn’t have to go on any talk shows or phone into a radio to
explain the situation.

When the park ranger leaves,
Ryke
glances back at us, and he actually walks over. My heart rises to my throat,
but his eyes meet mine for a brief second or two before they pin on everyone
behind me. And then he just treks right on past.

Okay…

“You realize how stupid this is, right?” Lo asks him,
forearms on his knees, hands clasped. He has his feet on the picnic table bench
like Lily.

Ryke
just smiles. “I love you
too.”

And then surprisingly Lo rises off the table and hops down.
He hugs
Ryke
and pats his back. “Don’t die on me,
okay?”

“I don’t plan on it,”
Ryke
says.

That one fight in Utah—with the red rock and dirt
swirling—has cleared the air between them. Whatever bad blood they had between
each other was left in that state, and I hope it won’t ever return.

They split apart, and
Ryke
faces
Lily now. She jumps off the picnic table quickly and flings her arms around
him. Then she pulls away and presses a sticker on his shirt. “It’s Spider-Man.
For good luck.”

“Thanks, Lily.” I can’t see his smile this time, just his
back. But I’m sure he’s smiling because Lily’s eyes are flooded with emotion.

I shift my weight from one foot to the other, just watching
him go down the line.
 

Rose and Connor stay seated. My sister has on designer
sunglasses even though the sun has yet to rise, and Connor is wearing an
expensive suit. They do not fit in. But they don’t care much.

Ryke
holds out his hands. “Please,
don’t stand up for me.”

“I’ll hug you when you come back down,” Rose tells him in
her clipped voice. “It’ll give you something to look forward to.” She swats
another invisible fly out of her face.

Ryke
nods and looks to Connor.
“And you?”

“You don’t need my luck.” His words are velvety smooth, like
he’s telling
Ryke
he has all the confidence in the
world in him.

Ryke
nods again. “Thanks guys. For
being here. See you on the other side.” He starts walking back, and I think
he’s going to stop in front of me, for a private moment. But he just keeps on
hiking towards the rock face.

I don’t think twice. I sprint after him, taking off. No one
calls me back to the tables.

No one reprimands me for following a boy much older than me.

No one says to stop.

I go with freedom in my chest, freedom in my heart. And I block
his path with my body, holding my hands out.

Ryke’s
dark features brighten as
soon as he sees me. His lips rise far beyond an almost-smile. He notices the
flower crown still in my clutch, and he steals it from my hand. I watch as he
sets it atop my blonde locks, some strands painted with color.

“I was waiting for the sun to chase me,” he breathes,
drawing me to his chest. In one swift movement, my lips are on his. The world
is spinning. He kisses me like this is the moment he’s envisioned all his life.
Like this is heaven on Earth.

For me, it is. A blissful moment before something that could
be the end. The rush before the fear. He whispers, “I fucking love you.”

I smile, my lips tingling. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“I love you more than chocolate cake.”

He kisses my head, and his mouth returns to mine, his tongue
sliding sensually, lasting and perfect. Then he flips off the cameras, the
click
click
click
in the background like buzzing insects.

When our lips break away, he just stares at me, his eyes
grazing over my face, spending an extra moment on my hair and the crown of
flowers. I can tell he’s engraining this image in his head. In case he falls.

“Don’t miss me too much, Calloway,” he says. And then he
starts to drift back towards the rock, his hand leaving mine.

This is it.

I watch
Ryke
Meadows climb.