I’m supposed to escort Julian out of the townhouse when we deliver the news. And I am greatly looking forward to it. I no longer have to be nice and put on a façade that hurts my fucking jaw. He’s of no use to me anymore.
Daisy groans into her hands. “I don’t want my older sister and her boyfriend breaking up with my boyfriend for me.”
“Fine. Will you break up with him?” Rose raises her eyebrows.
“Ye—”
“Right now?”
Daisy’s face drops.
“So let’s lay out the facts,” I interject. “Everyone in this house dislikes Julian. You dislike Julian. And I don’t like to generalize, but I’d say a very large portion of America hates Julian. But you’re still dating him because…”
“I don’t like breaking up with people,” she admits. “It’s awkward and horrible. In all my past flings, I would just stop talking to the guy and he’d kind of go away. Julian’s not like that.”
Rose snaps, “If you can’t break up with someone, you shouldn’t be dating them.
“Okay, but still…I say we reconvene this powwow in a month or two. Like, chill on it until Julian gets tired and moves on.”
Rose looks to me and her lips lift. “I think this might be on my bucket list. You and me, crushing the heart of my sister’s disgusting boyfriend.”
“Was this boyfriend on your list named Loren Hale?” I ask with a smile.
“Maybe. But we can always have an addendum.”
Daisy lets out another long groan.
“If it’s so embarrassing, next time don’t date someone you can’t break up with,” Rose refutes.
“She’s watching this, right?” I ask my girlfriend.
“What?” Daisy gawks, her eyes widening. “Noooo…” She draws out the word like she’s coming to terms with what’s about to happen.
“You’ll watch,” Rose says with a nod.
“And take notes,” I add.
Rose turns to me, her face lighting up. “Look at us. We’re already pretty good at this.”
I slide my hand into hers, joining in her excitement, maybe even more than her. I see us ten years from now. The same incredible team. Only with little versions of us running around. But her fear of motherhood is another battle for another day.
“After you,” I tell Daisy, gesturing towards the door.
“He’s here? Right now?” She blinks in a daze.
“Yes,” Rose snaps, “so reconfigure your sense of direction and make your way downstairs. Chop chop.” She snaps at her sister until Daisy springs to her feet.
“Okay, I can do this…” Daisy says brushing her hair off her shoulders. “I’ve swam with sharks before. What’s so bad about listening to my sister tear the soul out of a guy?” She cringes and gives Rose a pleading look. “Go easy on him. He’s already half-ape, Connor said so.”
I laugh when Rose glares at me. “What?” I say. “I watched him open a can of soup in the Alps by smacking it against the counter. There are tools that humans invented for such complicated tasks.”
Rose shakes her head repeatedly and then she marches towards the door. “If no one is going to move their ass, then you all can follow mine.”
“Fine with me, darling.” But I wait for Daisy to walk ahead of me. She’s the type of girl who would jump out of a three-story window for the hell of it. And we’ve just given her a reason to do so.
Daisy sighs and heads downstairs with Rose. In the living room, Julian waits for me to show up, thinking I’ve invited him over for beer—like we’re friends. He sits on the couch and flips through Rock and Ice, a mountaineering magazine that Ryke reads.
Daisy lingers by the staircase, unable to approach the couch any further. She looks like she’s about to flush a pet fish down the toilet. Ben is already sitting in one of the chairs, his camera positioned at us.
“Hey, man,” Julian says with a nod, standing up. He tosses the magazine on the table.
I don’t say a thing. I just head over to the couch. “You can take a seat.”
He frowns, but he sits on command. Rose and I choose the loveseat across from him. She crosses her ankles and rests her hands on her knees.
“Julian,” Rose says flatly. “It comes with my utmost pleasure to inform you that Daisy will no longer be seeing you, ever again.”
“What?” Julian scratches his cheek, more unshaven than I last remember.
“She’s breaking up with you,” I clarify. “Don’t call. Don’t text. Don’t show up on the doorstep expecting a quickie of any kind. You’re done.”
Julian rotates, looking over his shoulder at Daisy by the staircase. “What the fuck? Are you dumping me?”
“Hey,” Rose snaps her fingers at him, and the noise draws him back towards us. “She didn’t want to hurt your ugly little feelings.”
Julian immediately rises. “This is bullshit.” He stares at Rose’s sister. “Did they put you up to this, baby?”
She’s about to answer, but the front door suddenly swings open, banging against the wall. Rose and I stand up at the same time. Wild, angry voices pierce the room.
“I’m not being overdramatic!” Lily yells…dramatically. She carries a towering stack of magazines in her arms. Loren and Ryke push forward, past Brett and Savannah who try to squeeze through the doorway before them.
Lily rushes into the kitchen.
This doesn’t look good.
I make my way to the kitchen to deploy whatever airbags they all need to survive this crash.
Lily throws the magazines into the sink and then opens a cupboard. She pulls out a bottle of lighter fluid for the grill outside.
“Whoa!” Ryke and Lo yell in unison. They dart for her body as she squirts the liquid all over the magazines. I pry the plastic squirt bottle out of her grip, and Rose starts cleaning. She trashes all the magazines in a hefty bag before Lily has a chance to light them on fire.
Lo has Lily around the waist, and I stare at her eyes, filled with hatred and hysteria. “What’s going on?” I ask her, trying to be calm so everyone else feels reassured enough to relax.
But my tactics aren’t helping Lily right now. “People suck!” she screams, half crying on her words.
That explains nothing. I reach for one of the magazines in Rose’s hand before she tosses it. The paper is wet, and pages stick together. I don’t need to flip it open to understand the root of her anger.
The headline reads: Lily Calloway, Nymphomaniac and Reportedly Sleeping with Brothers
The photograph shows her walking down a street in Philly with Loren and Ryke on either side of her, which isn’t uncommon, especially when everyone is concerned about the girls’ safety without bodyguards.
“I don’t fucking care about the rumors.” Ryke extends his arms. “How many times do I have to say that?”
“I’m not a cheater! I don’t even like being an alleged cheater,” Lily says angrily. She points a threatening finger at the magazines. “And I hate being called a nympho!”
Nymphomania encompasses all hypersexuality, not just sex addiction. For someone like Lily, who identifies with being an addict, being labeled a nymphomaniac strengthens the debate that sex addiction is a myth.