Sam checks his phone and then says, “You’re going to have to drink it at the unveiling, without cringing. We’ve set up an event, open to the public, where you’ll drink Ziff and then climb.”
Ryke spreads his arms out. “Why the fuck are you just now telling me this?”
“Greg thought you’d agree to the terms, no matter what. If you want to earn his respect, you just need to suck it up and do it.”
Ryke says, “I have to drink water before I climb. About a fucking liter.”
“We’ll talk about the event later,” Sam shrugs it off and points to the box. “I’m leaving this with you so you can get used to the drink. I’ll let you all get back to…” His eyes ping to the baby dolls in our hands. “…whatever you were doing.”
No one even bothers telling him it’s CPR training. And as he departs, I whisper to Lo, “Does it really taste like deer bile?” That seems more abnormal and off-putting than bleach.
“No,” Lo whispers back. “It’s more like an iron, metal flavor. It’s not refreshing.”
My mouth falls a little. I picture blood, which tastes a bit like metal. This is a power drink for vampires. Mountain Berry Fizz 2.0 all over again. My heart goes out to Ryke. It feels like he’s being setup to fail.
This is the hardest part about having friends, watching another life unfold in a messier way than it should. And not being able to help. I have no magic spells or tools to fix this. No one ever says, let awkward Lily Calloway come to the rescue!
I come, a lot. But it’s never satisfied anyone but me.
And maybe Lo.
If my superpower is sex, then…I’ve abused it. I suppose I might’ve been a quiet, lurky villain this whole time.
“Lil?” Lo breathes, his lips brushing my ear. Everyone has gone back to their dolls. “What’s wrong?”
“Is my superpower sex?” I ask him.
His face sharpens. “No.”
“Are you sure?” My eyes burn, emotions stirring.
He hugs me to his chest. My belly bump hits him first, making it harder to be so close. After a long moment, he whispers, “Sex is your kryptonite.”
Oh. “It makes me weak,” I realize.
“And it makes you human, Lil.” He kisses my cheek and then the outside of my lips and then…my body pulls towards him as his tongue slides against mine. I ache to be even closer, but I chant over and over this has to be enough.
It is.
I won’t let my weakness get the better of me. Or play with my mind. It’s a daily battle that I’m beating today.
{ 29 }
LOREN HALE
Current standings: Ryke Meadows （cursed out three men last meeting） needs to act more professional in a work setting. 6 out of 14 love you. Congratulations, son. – Dad
I read the group text with everyone else while Connor’s limo sits in gridlocked traffic. We’re all riding to New York for a Cobalt Diamonds dinner party
“Was that sarcasm?” Lily whispers to me, pointing to the part about Ryke.
“Most definitely.” The next text suddenly comes in. He’s splitting them into four messages, I realize.
Lily Calloway （only spoke to two women last meeting and hid by a plant） needs to be more personable. Too shy. 7 out of 14 love you. Sorry, Lily. – Dad
I want to sigh in relief, but anxiety knots my stomach. I have no clue how I’ve come across to the board. We’ve each had three encounters with all fourteen of them so far, and I can’t tell who’s making progress.
All I know is that Lily is due in a little over a month. Saddling this shit on top of a baby—it’s starting to wear on me. And I’m paranoid that everyone is waiting for me to slipup and drink, watching me constantly. A nervous heat gathers on my neck, and I rub the back of it.
Maybe it’s my own conscience that plagues me the most.
“Can someone please send me these texts?” Rose says with less fire in her voice. It’s the first thing I’ve heard her say the entire limo ride. She’s been glaring out the window, probably cursing every automobile for causing us to be late.
“I can,” Daisy says, tapping her screen. I hear Rose’s phone chime and so does Connor’s, who sits next to her.
“Hey, look I’m beating Ryke,” Lily says with a small smile.
“By one fucking person. Don’t get so excited.” He grabs a water bottle out of the ice bucket and then passes it to Daisy.
My leg jostles while I wait for the next text to come in. I watch Lil tug at her plain purple dress; the fabric doesn’t suction to her stomach like Rose’s black one, but she’s still uncomfortable from carrying more weight.