Kiss the Sky (6 page)

“You won’t feel like shit,” I tell her, “because I’ll punish
you for it.”

Her lips slowly part. “You’ll punish me?” She chokes on a
laugh. “In what way?”

“Just trust me when I tell you that you’ll love it.”

She swallows hard and shakes her head. “I don’t see how I
could love a punishment.”

“It won’t be like detention in prep school, Rose.”
Remember, I have your best interest at
heart.

She inhales deeply and she stares at my lips again, silently
asking me to come a little closer.
 
Just
as I go to kiss her, a jingling sound echoes through the open kitchen that’s in
sight of the living room. No walls between any of them.

Sadie, my orange tabby cat, pads over to us, the bells on
her collar clinking together. Rose spent an hour wrestling my cat just to put
the thing on her while I was in class. She wants to know Sadie’s location so
she can avoid her. My cat scratches women fairly often. She’s not fond of the
times I locked her up for a date. But just for snapping on a collar, Rose had
cuts all along her arms for a week.

I was about to sell Sadie after that, but Rose refused to
let the cat leave. I appreciate her for trying to put up with my pet, but I
don’t want to find her bleeding like that ever again.

Rose lets out a horrified gasp. “We have rats!” She
disentangles from my arms completely.

She’s not frightened so much as disgusted by the rodent
hanging out of Sadie’s mouth.

I rub my lips to hide my smile. “Sadie hunts like a champion.”
I wink.

Rose plants her hands on her hips and stares at me like
really?
“You just winked at her.” Rose’s
glare turns into a laugh, but when she looks back at Sadie, her face falls
again. “It’s bleeding…oh my God.” Sadie drops the rat on the hardwood. “No,
no…”

“You’re fine,” I say, setting my hands on her shoulders.
“Breathe.” Rose is obsessive compulsive—a trait that has gotten out of hand
since the paparazzi have clung to the Calloway family.

She blows out a long breath. “I can’t cohabitate with
rodents.” She pauses. “That’s a lie. I’ve lived with Loren for nine months, but
I draw the line right
here
.”

“So then we’ll move back to Princeton.”
Win for me. Fuck you, Scott.

She shakes her head slowly. “No, no…I’ll just have to deal
with this. It’ll be okay.”

Fine.
“Lo,
Ryke
, and I can set rat traps tomorrow.” But I add this
just to rile her, “The perks of having three men living under one roof.”

Contempt crosses her face. “Lily, Daisy and I are more than
capable of doing it.” But she breathes a little easier at the idea of three
guys living here. It’s appealing to not be in control all the time. Well, for
her, not me.

“By all means,” I say, “set them yourself. I fully
appreciate female power.” I step nearer, closing the space between us. “But
you’re going to have to put them in dusty, dirty…” I wrap my arm around her
hip. “…places.” I slide my hand to her neck and my thumb brushes her lower lip.

She inhales again, remembering where I put my thumb three
days ago.

Ben silently films us, but I sense his unwanted presence. My
thumb lingers on her soft, wet lip.
Fuck
the camera.

I’m about to push my thumb into her mouth once more, but the
front door bursts open.

She pushes off me almost instantly, retreating in her head,
realizing who and what surrounds us. I wear my complacent expression, even if
I’m highly fucking irritated at whoever ultimately barged through the door.

I see his blond hair first, and my irritation escalates to
new volatile levels. I’m already an egotistical ass. I’m afraid I’m about to
become the villain of this reality show.

Right now, I don’t particularly give a shit.

“Look, another rodent,” I say to Rose.

She smacks my chest, but she’s smiling.

Scott saunters inside like he owns the townhouse. I’m sure
the lease is in his production company’s name. Next thing, he’ll try to stamp
Van Wright
all over my girlfriend.

“Where is everyone?” he asks, extending his arms. “The
psychic will be here in five minutes.” I fixate on the duffel bag slung over
his shoulder.

I don’t like assuming things, but if there are clothes, a
toothbrush and a change of underwear in his bag—we’re going to have a major fucking
problem.

Rose squeezes my arm.

I’m wearing my anger.

That happens—
never.

“They’re all settling into their new bedrooms,” Rose tells
him. She eyes the duffel. “Traveling somewhere, Scott? Hopefully to California
where you’re actually needed.”

When he faces my girlfriend, he’s not pissed at her insult.
No. He
smiles
. His gaze even lingers
on her lips—the ones that I just touched. “I’m needed here,” he tells her. “It
just takes people time to realize what’s good for them.” He gives Rose a long
once-over, and my blood begins to boil. “Nice dress, but you could lower the
neckline. Showing your tits would increase the ratings.”

“So would shoving my foot up your ass,” she retorts.

My lips rise.

So do Scott’s.

“Just trying to help,” he says smoothly. “I do have a
question though. If your sisters are wearing your collection on screen, does
this mean they’re going to be entering a nunnery too?”

She growls and tries to charge him.

I seize her around the waist, holding her back. I hate that
he incenses her like this. That’s my fucking role.

My lips find her ear. “You’re giving him what he wants.”

“He’s insulting
my
line.”

It’s like calling her child stupid. I understand the blow. “Your
clothes are perfect, Rose. They’re not as modest as he believes. Women will buy
them.”

My words instantly calm her, and she relaxes against me. I
hold her while Scott waves Ben towards us. And then I meet his gaze. “So,” I
say, “you’re moving in.”

It’s a guess.

But it becomes fact as soon as he tosses the duffel bag onto
the floor. “I am.”

Rose balks.

“What did production want this time?” I ask. “A misogynist?
A natural blond?”

“A love triangle,” he deadpans.

Rose’s cheeks concave as if she’s attempting to suck in all
the air from the room. She points her finger at Scott, the red nail polish
threatening and incredibly sexy. “If you try to break up Lily and Loren, I will
gut you from the inside out.”

No, Rose. He wants
you.

His arousal practically swims in his eyes as he watches her
tell him off. “I’m not here to break up anyone. I’ll be introduced in the show
as your ex-boyfriend. We dated for a few years in college but decided to
amicably break up when your fashion line absorbed all your time. I like my
women to be…attentive. We’re still friends, despite your love to harass the
shit out of me.”
  

I let go of Rose and take a step forward. “We haven’t
formally met,” I say, holding out my hand. “I’m Connor Cobalt. The guy whose
girlfriend you want to fuck. And just so you understand, the odds don’t look
good for you.”

He shakes my hand, and I grip him so tight that he struggles
to hide a wince. “You’re threatened by me,” he states, not breaking eye
contact. “I’m twenty-eight, and you’re—”

I hate ages.
“Twenty-four
years smarter than you.” I tilt my head. “And in ten years I’ll be thirty-four
years smarter than you. See how this works?”

Rose steps between us, hands outstretched like she’s
protecting us from each other. But I just want to protect her from him. “All
right. Put your cocks away. I’ve seen enough of them.”

We both look down at her with the same desire.

“You haven’t even seen mine,” Scott says with curved lips.

Is he serious?
“I
assure you, you’ve pulled out your cock,” I tell him.

“Stop. Both of you,” she says, her chest rising in her
dress, her breasts more apparent, even with the high neckline.
This
, interjecting herself in the middle
of a fight, even tame, causes my dick to throb. I struggle not to pull her into
my chest, away from Scott and his lingering gaze. She wouldn’t appreciate me
claiming her. But if he’s going to try to take her from me—there’s only so long
I can withhold from doing so.

Anyway, I don’t think
she’d
appreciate another girl hitting on me this way. In fact, I’m almost certain
she’d rip her to shreds and grab me.

Rose spins towards Scott. “You’re the executive producer.”

“Yes?”

“So you’re in charge of production. You make the rules. So
you can leave.”

“Yes, but I also have the network breathing down my neck.
GBA expects certain things from
Princesses
of Philly
when I pitched the show
to
them. My placement in the house was a promise I made.”

He’s planned this for that long?

Maybe he’s smarter than I thought.

Rose fumes. “If the network wants you here, then fine. But
the moment I think you’re fucking with my friends and their relationships, even
mine, you’re
gone
. My company isn’t
worth hurting everyone I care about.”

“Okay,” Scott says evenly. “But I can’t be held accountable
for your feelings, Rose. If you end up liking me, that’s completely out of my
control.”

Well, he’s still the douchebag I thought he was.

Rose snorts and backs up into my chest. It’s intentional.
And I could kiss her for it. Instead, I wrap my arm protectively around her
collar, and she clutches onto me.

“I’d rather burn,” she tells him.

Scott just smiles and motions to Ben who’s filmed the entire
scene. “Get everyone in this fucking living room. We have a psychic segment to
shoot.”

Game on.

[ 5 ]

ROSE CALLOWAY

“He’s cute,” Daisy says, appraising Scott from the
kitchen. The main level of the townhouse is all one open space, so we have a
direct view of the four guys in the living room, sitting on various pieces of
leather furniture. The frizzy-haired psychic is on the ottoman, shuffling her Tarot
cards.

Lily and I give our youngest sister a long stare. Mine
contains a strong warning, but Lily looks more confused, like a puppy wandering
the side of a road. I’d only stop to help a sad dog if they shared my genetics.
Cruel, maybe. But survival of the fucking fittest. Blood is thicker than water.
Choke on all of those clichés. They’re true.

Daisy adds, “I mean, if you’re into the whole blond, scruffy
alpha-male vibe.” She bites into a carrot with a crooked grin.

“You mean if you’re into the whole domineering, jackass
vibe,” I refute.

“Or that,” she says. “But no offense,
Ryke
is more of the jackass.” She says it with an even larger smile. Yes, she’s
friends with Loren’s brother, who happens to be twenty-three. It’d be stranger
if she didn’t hang around high fashion models older than even him.

 
My two sisters and I
have excused ourselves from the palm reading to replenish on pizza and drinks.
But really, I wanted to leave the guys to grill the producer…or rather—my fake
ex-boyfriend. I internally gag every time I think of
Scott
and
boyfriend
in
the same sentence. He’s put this disgusting chili pepper and pickle taste in my
mouth. And for anyone who finds that combination pleasant, I’ll give you
Scott’s number. He’s all yours.

I watch Connor and Scott’s tense conversation as they share
the same couch. They both sit tall, silently establishing their dominance, but
a good amount of space separates them.

On a plush chair,
Ryke
observes
our producer with a dark scowl but is smart to stay quiet.

However, Lo constantly interjects, sitting on the loveseat.
And while the other guys keep their voices low, I can
hear
his heated retorts from the kitchen. He gesticulates with his
hands, pointing at Scott more than once.

“I think they’re all assholes,” I say matter-of-factly.
“Some just have more redeeming qualities than others.” Kind of like us. I’m not
the most likable girl in the world.

Savannah, the redheaded camerawoman, stands beside the oven.
She’s around our age and wears a skull and crossbones bandana over her braids.
She focuses the camera on Lily, which is not good. My twenty-one-year-old
sister is the only person who has trouble
not
looking into the lens.

“I don’t like Scott,” Lily says, her eyes flickering to the
camera with each word. She nears Daisy and cups her hand around her mouth to
whisper. “He stared at your boobs for like a whole minute.”

Daisy shrugs and climbs on the counter, swinging her long
legs. Her dyed blonde hair drapes to her waist. She’d cut it if her new
modeling agency would let her. “There are photographs of me in my underwear,”
she says (too casually). She pops a piece of broccoli in her mouth from a
vegetable tray. “When guys read the magazines, they could be doing more than
staring at my boobs.”

Lily flushes red in embarrassment.

Daisy frowns in confusion and then she laughs lightly. “You
used to jack off to
mags
? That’s fucking awesome,
Lil.”

I
suck
in a sharp breath, worried
by my little sister’s lack of filter in front of the cameras. But I don’t scold
Daisy for her bluntness. I don’t want to make it seem like female masturbation
is a bad thing. I wholeheartedly approve, but Lily is a recovering sex addict
who has been known to compulsively delve into self-love and porn, abusing both.
Those days are over for her. They have been for months.

“I don’t think girls can jack off,” Lily tells her,
collecting her bearings. She tries to act more confident, straightening up.

Daisy swings her legs, hitting the cabinets below with her
high laced boots. I would care more about scratching the wood if this was my
house. But it’s practically Scott’s.
So
scuff away, Daisy.
“You’re totally right.” She nods. “I guess it would be
like rubbing one out?”