We drop the subject as Ryke returns from the bathroom. Melissa rejoins the girls on the dance floor, which she wasn’t willing to do when we first arrived. She was clinging to Ryke pretty fiercely, so I assume Ryke went down on her in the toilet stall. She seems appeased at least.
I want to change the topic off of Rose’s sex life, so I say the first thing that comes to mind. “What kind of a name is Ryke?”
He sinks into the seat beside mine, a can of Fizz Life in his hand that I’m pretty positive doesn’t have any alcohol in it.
“It’s a middle name,” he says like I don’t know. But last year at the Christmas Charity Gala, when he admitted to being my brother, I made him show me his driver’s license. Jonathan Ryke Meadows.
“What kind of a middle name is Ryke?” I clarify.
He lets out an aggravated noise. “What the fuck did Jonathan give you as a middle name?”
“I don’t have one. I think he realized sticking me with Loren was torture enough.” My name was the target for teasing in elementary school, despite the guy-version spelling.
“Ryke,” Connor muses. “From Middle English, a variant of the word would mean power or empire. Though, your spelling is a little off.”
“Yeah, my father is an egotistical douchebag,” he says roughly. “My name literally means Jonathan empire.”
I can’t help but laugh into my next sip of water. For the first time, mine doesn’t seem so bad.
“I don’t know why you’re fucking laughing. You have a girl’s name and no middle name.”
I flip him off.
“Speaking of names,” Connor says casually, and yet, I sense his mischief as his eyes set on Ryke. “You realize if you ever married one of the Calloways, she’d have a porn star name.”
“And which Calloway would that be?” I snap. “Poppy is married, I’m dating Lily, you’re dating Rose, and Daisy is sixteen.”
“Hypothetically.”
I don’t like hypothetically, but maybe this will deter Ryke from even thinking about a possible future. So I play into it. “Daisy Meadows,” I say, inwardly cringing at the idea. “Sounds like someone who knows her way around a—”
“Don’t even finish that sentence.” Ryke glares.
“I was going to say camera. Why? What were you thinking?” My voice remains edged and cold.
The lights flicker as the show begins to start and we both sit back, trying to calm down. We know how to push each other’s buttons, and I wonder if that’s a brother-thing or just because we’re both products of Jonathan Hale.
The room darkens except for the stage and the servers—the latter of which walk around with flashlights to take drink orders. An Elvis impersonator struts on stage and starts singing with dancers gyrating beside him. The oldies song is remixed so it beats with the hypnotic atmosphere.
I sit a little straighter, watching Lily who dances in a small space with her sisters and Melissa. The lights flash brightly, illuminating the dance floor in a wave of colors.
It doesn’t take long for some guy to approach Lily from behind. I stiffen but stay in my seat, trusting her as I should. His hands slide along her hips, and all these memories of seeing her dance with strange guys flood me cold. I would settle at the bar, keeping a trained eye on Lil so she wouldn’t get hurt, watching as she led some half-witted man to the bathroom. And I’d drown my misery in Maker’s Mark.
As soon as his hands plant on her, his fingers slipping underneath the hem of her blouse and another falling to her skirt, she flinches and darts right into Daisy’s chest. I can’t help but smile. Some months ago, she would have played into his advances. Finally, she’s chosen me.
But my happiness is popped when the guy approaches her, not taking the clear hint. His half-lidded, droopy gaze drives worry into my gut. He is drunk and definitely prepared to dance right on Lily’s ass again.
I’m about to rise and descend to the dance floor, but Daisy shoves his arm hard and points a finger in his face—a Rose move that I wouldn’t think possible from the youngest Calloway.
I glance at Ryke, and he rubs his lips, curiosity swimming in his eyes. She intrigues him as much as her actions concern him. The mix is not good, and I don’t need to remind him of that. He’s heard me shout it in brutal warning.
Lily slinks behind Daisy’s body and then spins around, looking up and meeting my gaze. She gives me a small wave and then turns back to her sister. Daisy physically moves him out of their area. He has his hands up in peace, but he’s staring at her breasts that are pushed up in a short strapless dress. He licks his bottom lip.