Hothouse Flower (37 page)

Do you still want to
hold onto the fucking past?

I’m living back there. Where my dad leaves my mom. Where I’m
lying for years and years about who I am. Where I feel
lost
of an identity to call my own.

But I have all of that
now
.
Fuck, I have more than I ever dreamed of.

I have a girl I love.

I have a brother.

I have a mom who loves me, even if she fucks up.

I have a dad who wants to be there for me…I look up at him.
Who
is
here for me.

And I’m
Ryke
Meadows. I’m a
free-solo climber. I’m a celebrity. I’m a fucking sober coach. I have an
identity that’s
mine
. No one took it
from me.

I glance over at my dad again, and I want to see the
villain, but I think, maybe, all this time the villain was me. For not moving
past this, for not realizing that he’s free to make mistakes too. I don’t know
if I’m willing to forgive him right now, but he’s not asking for that.

He’s letting me take all the fucking time I need.

I inhale strongly, and I say, “I may never see eye to eye
with you.”

He nods. “I’d rather fight with you at every Sunday dinner
than never talk to you again.” He shrugs. “That’s the goddamn truth.”

“You love me that much?”

There are fucking tears in his eyes. “More than you can
possibly understand, son.”

A pressure bears down on me, and I ask him something that
I’ve never fucking asked him in my entire life. I just always thought I knew
the answer. Now I’m not so sure. “Would you be willing to stop drinking for Lo
and for me?”

After a heavy silence, a single tear rolls down his cheek. I
see now that he’s fighting an internal battle probably just as powerful and
just as rebellious as the one Lo has, as the one I have.

What he does will change everything.

< 60 >

RYKE MEADOWS

“I still can’t believe it,” my brother says while
I drive to our father’s house with Lily and Daisy in the backseat, my Infinity
speeding along the roads until I get stopped by another red light. The girls
are quiet, both looking out their windows.

“Me either,” I say. “Seems fucking surreal.”

“He threw out thousands and thousands of dollars’ worth of
booze.” Lo shakes his head. “He had a rare two-hundred-year-old scotch he was
planning on giving me as a wedding present, you know that?”

My eyes flicker to him. “He wanted to give you booze when
you’re sober?” Lo has visited our dad almost every day since he started this
long journey. It’s been one week since his proclamation in the jail cell, and
he hasn’t backed out.

In my father’s words,
He’s
no fucking pussy.

“No, he told me that he was planning to drink it at my
wedding himself. He’d have an extra glass for me.” Lo stares off for a second
and then he smiles. “We ended up watering the plants with the scotch.” He
laughs and says, “You know that son of a bitch has three sober coaches to keep
him in line?”

I hear the happiness in my brother’s voice, and it lifts me
to a new place. I’m proud of my father, for finally going to this length for
us. It’s not an easy decision. It’s not an easy road. It’s one that Lo knows
better than me, and he can say, firsthand, how much pain there is in giving up
a crutch rather than relying on it.

But we’re both going to be here for him.

“I expected a fucking army,” I tell Lo. “If he’s not going
to rehab, he’ll bring rehab to him.” I glance in the rearview at Daisy, who is
abnormally still on her seat. Her faraway gaze clenches my stomach. She’s been
ignoring her mom after I got arrested. It’s not something I ever wanted for
Daisy.

I drive through a gated community right in the suburbs of
Philly, and I park in my father’s driveway. I snap off my seatbelt, and both
Lily and Daisy climb out of the car and shut the doors before Lo and I get out.
I turn to my brother, a gnawing question surfacing while we’re here.

“I meant to ask you something,” I say under my breath.

He removes his gaze off Lily who nervously bites her nails.
She’s been more anxious than usual, and I haven’t really talked to my brother
about it. But her health is not really my main concern right now. “Yeah?” he
asks.

“Does Lily have many conversations alone with Jonathan?”

I’ve asked her this once. When I first met her. She told me
that she tries to avoid the Hale household—which I took to mean Jonathan, seeing
as she was always over the actual house.

“Is this about the rumors?” Lo wonders with a frown.

The molestation rumors. They’re still there,
growing…festering. Lily’s name is being thrown around, but she’s publicly
denied the allegations that Jonathan had any influence on her addiction.

Add in my “almost” charge for statutory rape, plus our
father’s sudden moment to seek addiction counseling, and our family seems like
a perfect soap opera.

“It’s about Daisy,” I say. “I want to make sure I know how much
shit she’s going to endure now that she’s dating me. He’s still an asshole,
even sober.”

Lo lets out a short laugh. “Yeah, he told one of his sober
coaches to lose twenty pounds and then come back to him.”

“In those words?”

“No way. I think he made a forty-year-old man cry.” Lo nods
to me. “Don’t worry about Daisy. He won’t talk to her unless it’s about you.” I
just don’t want her to be torn down by his harsh comments. He absentmindedly
checks his phone, as if something’s been on his mind too. “So I have a list of
ten comic manuscripts that I have to narrow down to three. I’m having some
trouble deciding. I thought maybe you could help me.”

I don’t hide my surprise. “Lily and Connor weren’t
available?” I know I’m his third fucking choice. I always am.

“I didn’t ask.” He pauses, an insecurity bubbling up
suddenly. “But if you don’t have time or don’t want to, I can have Lily read
them. It’s not a big deal.” He goes to check his phone again, but I’m pretty
sure there’s no new text.

“No,” I say quickly. “I want to help.”

It’s his turn to look surprised. “You sure?”

Something swells in me. I actually feel like his brother—not
just a fucking sober coach he pushes away. “Yeah,” I say with nod. “But I can’t
promise that you won’t hate my fucking opinions.”

“I can definitely promise that.” Lo smiles, not a half-one,
not dry or filled with resentment for not being here sooner. It’s a real
fucking smile. “But that’s the point. I need someone to look at them a lot differently
than me.”

And I’ve always seen everything different than Lo. Life.
Love. Family. It’s like our lives are reflected in a mirror, upside down and
flipped. It’s nice to finally meet in the middle, somewhere that makes sense
for both of us.

< 61 >

DAISY CALLOWAY

I lie on my stomach beneath
Ryke’s
sheet, naked. In his apartment. I have my head buried underneath the pillow and
my hand shielding the blue glow of my phone, trying not to wake him.

3:14 a.m. blinks on the top of my cell, reminding me that
not even a night of wild sex—from his kitchen counter to the floor to the
bed—puts me to sleep for long. I average a solid four hours, which sucks.

I open a series of missed texts from my older sister.

I need out of this
house. We’re considering moving to an apartment, but Lily says I would hate it.
What do you think?
– Rose

We’ve been on the East coast for a whole week, which has
given our publicists enough time to make a press release:
Rose Cobalt is expecting a baby!
Gossip sites are going crazy
speculating the baby’s name and the gender. Lily said the paparazzi tried to
climb the hedges the other day, wanting a photo of Rose’s belly. She’s not even
showing yet. I heard Connor strengthened the security around their Princeton
house, but Rose must have called it quits.

I send back:
You’d absolutely
hate it. Not enough closet space.

And then I open another missed text.

We’re looking for
places in Philly or around the area.
– Rose

I smile.
I’m
in
Philly.
Ryke
is in Philly. But there are other
reasons they’d choose this location too. Calloway Couture
and
Cobalt Inc. are located here. Nothing is tying them to
Princeton, New Jersey. Their commute already sucks, and Lily finishes her final
college class in December. She’ll be an official graduate, free to move
wherever she likes.

If they decide to keep living together, that is.

No one has talked about the separation of Lily and Lo /
Connor and Rose yet. They’ve been rooming in the same house for so long that
it’d be
kinda
weird for them to split up. But Rose is
pregnant now. Maybe everyone’s just going to move on with their own lives.

My smile fades. If that’s the case, then I barely got any
time with my sisters before they started their own families.

Being the youngest blows.

I click into another text.

I’d really love to
talk to you. Please, Daisy.
– Mom

I delete it almost immediately. I don’t even want to think
about what she did. I don’t want to let those emotions in, so I push them away
like I’ve seen
Ryke
do so many times before.

Last unread message:

Ugh. I need a fucking
drink. Pregnancy is making me empathize with Loren. I already hate it.
–
Rose

And then my pillow is flung off my head. I’m caught
red-handed.
Ryke
edges closer to me, fully naked, and
his leg brushes against mine as he grabs my phone. He checks the time, and his
eyes harden. “You slept for a fucking hour, Calloway.”

“I know. I feel badly about that,” I say. “You can go back
to sleep. I won’t disturb you anymore.” I’m about to slide off the bed, but he
spreads his strong arm across my back, keeping me on my stomach, right here on
his
mattress.

The place between my legs clenches.
Oh God.
Again? I am so insanely attracted to
Ryke
Meadows that my body doesn’t know how to handle it.

He shifts on top of me, and his lips brush against my ear.
“That’s not how this works, sweetheart,” he breathes. “I want you in our bed,
all fucking night.”
Our bed.
I smile,
being reminded that we’re moving in together. We haven’t told anyone, and we’ve
been bouncing back from his apartment to mine, not sure which one we should
pick.

It feels normal though.

And I guess, in a way, we’ve been doing this since I
graduated, just without the sex.

He pushes the covers off of me, exposing my bare back and
bottom underneath him. He kisses my shoulders, his tongue stroking my skin with
each deep, sensual kiss. It’s torture—his kisses. They’re the best because they
heighten every sensation, but they also make me crave for something hard
between my legs.

I turn my head to watch his broad muscles flex, the lines of
his abs sharpening. He is so effing hot. I blink, just to make sure that this
isn’t a dream—that I’m truly with the brooding, rough, sexy guy that I’ve known
for years.

His lips descend to my ass, holding my bottom as he kisses
my smooth flesh.
Ahhh
…
I feel wet just by the way he’s
staring at my body. We share the same expression, the same attraction.

He flips me over, and I pant heavily. He’s kneeling,
towering above me, and my eyes trace his sculpted, lean muscles, the darkness
in his eyes. I feel small beneath him. Not because of my age. Just feminine. A
girl to his man.

I
need
him inside
of me. “I think…I think I’m addicted to sex,” I say, not able to catch my
breath and I’m just lying here, looking at him.

He almost smiles. “You love sex. That doesn’t mean you’re
addicted to it.”

“How do you know?” I breathe shallowly.

“Because you’d be insatiable. You would’ve been looking at
porn on your fucking cellphone right then, even after I came inside of you
tonight.”

My lips rise. “Twice.”

“About to be three times, Calloway.”

I bunch the sheets in my hands around me and turn my face
into the mattress. “You aren’t real,” I say dramatically with a big smile.

And then he suddenly steps off the bed and yanks my ankle so
I reach him. Oxygen rushes out of my lungs. I look at his cock that’s a lot
harder than before. There’s not as much pain when he fits inside of me, but if
I’m not wet enough for him, he’ll grab lube. He’s really aware of how easily he
can hurt me, and his attention to this only makes me love him more.

But he doesn’t fill me yet.

He bends my knees, and his head drops between my legs. I
gasp before his mouth even touches the tender, aching place that begs for his
skill.
Ryke
excels in many areas, but this has to be
on a whole other level.

I grip his hair as his tongue and lips work on me in sync. I
like that he’s the only guy who’s every gone down on me before, who’s ever
kissed that intimate spot. He locks my legs from moving, his arms around them
as he holds my waist with two strong hands.

I alternate from clenching his hair or placing my hand on
his. “
Ryke
,” I gasp, my breath quickening. “Oh God…I
can’t…” My back starts to buck, and I clutch his head.

His mouth is right
there.

His head is between
your legs.

He’s kissing you.

He has your body in
his grasp.

He’s naked.

I’m about to freak out.

I cry, my mouth opening and my fingers scrunching his thick
brown hair.
Oh my God.
I barely catch
my breath as I watch him stand up and then place one knee on the mattress. I’ve
seen him do this move so many times before—the one knee on the bed to get a
little closer to my body. But never without clothes. Never with an erection and
me lying naked below.

He pulls my leg up to his waist, and as he grips his shaft,
he slowly slides his hard cock inside of me. I think I just whimpered.

Normally I’d sit up to meet him, but my limbs have
jellified. I let him pound against me just like this. And I watch him absorb
the way our bodies meet, his hardness rocking into me with a pulsing rhythm. I
feel so full—I can’t even describe. There’s no room for anything else but him.

A nerve electrifies, and I moan. The sensations never die
down. His gaze focuses on me. He looks intoxicated by my reactions and body’s
responses. His lips part at one point, and he ends up putting his hand on the
mattress, lowering closer to me, and his erection goes deeper. Still one foot
on the ground.

“
Ryke
!” I cry, the pleasure too
much. I cover my face with my hands. I’m done. Blown away. A million pieces.
But that’s not true. I’m still climbing this
freakin
’
mountain. It’s so intense that I just want to reach the top already. I
suffocate for breath, but my lungs won’t cooperate.

He tears my hands away from my face, and I rest them against
his neck as he kisses me strongly. He helps me breathe with the embrace,
forcing oxygen to my lungs, and then he lifts my leg a little higher, and my
head tilts back.

He drives into me without stopping. His pace picks up, and
his eyes flicker between his dick hammering into me and my mouth that refuses
to close, cries breaching my lips.

He groans. “Fuck.” He moves faster and faster. So hard. So
crazy. So fucking insane. “Dais…”

“
Ryke
…” My hands find his, one on
the backside of my thigh, raising my leg, the other on the bed beside my hair.
I hold both, and with one more thrust, he’s true to his word.

He releases, and I feel my body clenching around him. I shut
my eyes and breathe. I just ran around the world in thirty-five minutes.

He stays inside of me while he crawls onto the bed and pulls
me into his arms. We kiss for probably another five minutes. And then as we
both relax against each other, he says, “This wasn’t to help you fall asleep.”

He’s mentioned on numerous occasions that he would never
medicate me with sex. “It was a
just
because
fuck?” I ask with a smile.

“No,” he whispers, “it was an
I love you
fuck.”

I brighten. “No wonder it was my favorite.”

He combs my hair, my breathing beginning to match his steady
rhythm. “Do you need me to check the doors?” he asks.

“I’m okay.” I’m not as paranoid as I was before we were
together. I don’t think starting a relationship necessarily fixed my problems.
But knowing
Ryke
will be here for me one-hundred
percent—it’s a security that I didn’t have before. It squashes most of my
irrational fear.

I rest my cheek against his chest. I don’t fall back to
sleep right away. And he stays awake with me for however long it takes. Just
holding my bare, tired body until slumber finally calls me to a peaceful place.

I drift to sleep in his arms, where I know I’ll be safe.