Home > Books > Addicted After All (Addicted #5)(167)

Addicted After All (Addicted #5)(167)

Author:Krista Ritchie & Becca Ritchie

Willow’s shoulders slacken. “Yeah, same. I’ve never been on one, but I’m scared too.”

Lily brightens when Willow agrees with her, and she points a finger at Ryke. “Ha!” Moffy gurgles like he’s trying to mimic that sound, but it’s incoherent baby talk.

Ryke says to Willow, “Daisy won’t care if you’re not into bikes. She’d honestly do anything you want.”

“I’ll take off work some days this week too,” I tell Willow. It’s the one good thing about being the CEO of a company. I have the luxury to make my own hours, but even if I neglect Halway Comics some, I can’t ditch Hale Co. meetings. I’m still competing for the title against my brother.

After the charity event, only three board members thought Daisy would be a good fit for the job. Irene has more sway and convinced everyone that Daisy was too young.

“Okay then,” Willow says. “…where do we start?”

“How about lunch?” I ask.

Everyone voices their approval like they’re starving, and I wait for Willow to say something. Her glasses mist with tears again.

“Thank you,” she says beneath her breath.

Ryke has been a great big brother to me. And if I can pay it forward and do the same for her, I’ll try my hardest. I may not be the best at anything, but I can be better than mediocre.

{ 60 }

LILY CALLOWAY

Lo stays inside of me for an extended minute or two, and I didn’t even have to ask. Sweat gleams on my skin as I lie beneath the weight of his toned body. Even as I come down from an epic climax, I ache for one more. Per the usual.

But I’ve learned to wait until tomorrow or the morning. Compulsive, needy Lily is put to rest, somewhere far, far away. In a dystopian land before this peaceful place.

I stare at Lo’s beautiful pink lips. Mine still sting, and it’s like I can feel him on me, even though we’re a breath apart.

Kiss me. I realize that I actually say it aloud when his lips touch mine in a gentle, tender kiss. When he pulls out, he props his body next to mine and combs my damp hair off my forehead.

“October tenth,” he says the date with a growing smile.

I’ve yet to fully believe that we’re going to be married sometime soon. Less than a month away. “Are you sure you don’t want to postpone?”

His smile vanishes instantly, and I regret even asking.

I sit up and clutch the red sheet to my chest. “It’s just that the board members are choosing a CEO on October first, and…” I trail off at the sight of his sharp jawline.

“If you want to pick another date, that’s fine, Lil, but I don’t want your reasoning to be about my emotional stability. I’ve been ready to marry you since I was seven years old, in case you forgot.” He flashes that half-smile that somehow draws me closer to him, not further away.

I easily straddle his waist while he sits up and rests against the headboard. Without saying anything, I plant both of my palms on his defined abs, watching them rise and fall with his body. “I love October tenth,” I whisper. We chose the date spontaneously, while we were cooking tacos for the house. It felt right. It still does, but doubt likes to creep in and destroy all good things.

He holds my face in a comforting hand. “That day isn’t going to be tainted by anything, love. I know you can’t believe that yet, but you’re going to see it.”

It seems like a dream. I kiss his sharp jaw quickly, and he kisses back even faster on the lips. I smile, my body heating all over again. I grind against him, and a deep noise escapes his throat.

He pulls back once and says, “Are you sure on lavender and cranberry?”

Those are the colors we chose for our fall wedding. I nod wildly, my eyes only on his lips. He tilts my chin up with two fingers, and I melt into his intense amber irises.

“Because I sent the maid of honor all the details, and she freaked when I changed the dinner menu yesterday.”

Rose doesn’t like messing with the set plan, but she’s been really relaxed as far as offering her opinion. She just suggests certain things. Like lisianthus as the flowers, a deep purple bouquet. I didn’t even know what that flower was, let alone how to pronounce it. She handed me a bundle of them a week ago, and I knew. It was perfect.

“No more changes,” I tell him. “I like everything we picked.” At first, we went formal with the reception menu: bite-sized entrees of lamb and scallops. Then we realized that we’re only inviting family, and we’d rather eat what we like. So everyone will be served five-star chicken, shrimp, and fish tacos, margaritas, and taquitos.