Home > Books > Addicted for Now (Addicted, #3)(133)

Addicted for Now (Addicted, #3)(133)

Author:Krista Ritchie & Becca Ritchie

“And there goes those morning runs around the block,” Lo adds.

Melissa divulges more secrets, like which coffee shops he frequents, the gyms he likes. Ryke groans his hand.

Lo’s voice softens. “You really pissed this girl off.”

“I didn’t mean to. Honestly.”

Melissa stares straight into the camera, delivering her next lie. “Lily Calloway liked to do it a lot, but especially with both of them.” She pauses. “Together.”

None of us move, not at all expecting that.

“Fucking fantastic,” Ryke breathes.

I can handle guys lying about sleeping with me. I can handle comedy skits about my sex addiction. I can handle the sluts and whores that are blasted my way. But having someone else—someone who has only helped me—being dragged into these lies, well, that sets me off.

I storm towards the door, not even caring that my hair is unwashed, that my clothes are wrinkled from all the lounging around, and that I look one second from joining the trash in a garbage can. I’m a girl with a fucking mission.

“Whoa!” Lo wraps his arms around my waist before I reach the door. “Where are you going, love?”

“To the street. I need to set things straight.” They cannot think I’ve slept with Ryke. They cannot think I’ve had sex with Lo and his brother. That is beyond wrong.

Ryke stares at me from the couch. “So your first fucking statement is going to be Melissa is a big fat fucking liar?”

“You can’t point fingers,” Lo clarifies.

“I can’t just be quiet,” I say. “This is getting bad.”

“You have to talk to your parents first,” Lo reminds me. “They have money. They have lawyers.”

But for every second that Melissa’s lie is accepted as truth is another moment where Ryke and Lo suffer because of me.

Ryke gives me an annoyed look. “You honestly think I care what people say about me?” No, he wouldn’t, but I still feel horrible. “I’m more pissed that she’s told the press where I rock climb.”

I picture lenses swarming him as he grips a mountain with his fingers, and the cameras distract him as they flash repeatedly, so much so that he tumbles to his death. I wince. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want your apologies, Lily,” Ryke refutes. “I only want one thing.”

“What?”

“When your parents tell you to go to rehab, what do you say?”

We talked about this on the plane. I can’t go to rehab. That would entail leaving Lo and a brilliant therapist, both of which I love, and all of that would be replaced with anxiety-ridden group sessions. I can’t form the words Ryke wants me to until Lo laces his fingers with mine, courage filling me.

“I’m going to say…go to hell.”

Ryke tilts his head at me, appraising my tone. I said the right words, but maybe not in the most confident way. He turns to Lo.

“We’ll work on it,” Lo tells me.

I nod. At least I have their support. Ryke and Lo, as a team—for however strange that would have seemed months ago—is the best thing for me.

Just not a sexual team.

Purely chaste here.

Okay, I’ll stop now. I think porn has fried my brain. I blame Melissa! I’m going to use that excuse for the rest of the day.

I do feel a little better.

{ 35 }

LILY CALLOWAY

I haven’t told my parents to “go to hell” yet, but that’s partly because they really haven’t spoken to me. When we arrived at their Villanova mansion, Lo and I were ushered into one of the dens. My parents were there, along with his father, but so were four lawyers that squeezed onto a single couch. The lawyers asked us questions, and I tried to explain everything without becoming too much of an emotional mess. I failed on multiple occasions, blubbering so much that Lo would have to finish talking for me.

But my mother and father never said a word and avoided my gaze as much as possible. They might as well have been listening from another room. The hardest part was going through the video clips that many guys posted and claimed as sex tapes. Some blurry ones I couldn’t be certain were me or not, but others were clearly fabricated. I don’t have any cute freckles on my butt.

Four hours later, my throat has swollen from talking and bearing as much of the truth as I could. We even came clean about our fake relationship. Now Lo and I wait in the living room while the lawyers and our parents deliberate about the next steps. Rose and Ryke offered to be here, but we both wanted to do this on our own.