Thrive （Addicted, #4）
Krista Ritchie & Becca Ritchie
A NOTE FROM THE AUTHORS
Before you begin reading Thrive, there are a couple factors to consider. If you are planning on reading the Calloway Sisters spin-off series and have not done so—STOP HERE.
Thrive takes place during the events from Kiss the Sky and Hothouse Flower. All major climaxes and arcs will be spoiled for you in this book. We highly recommend that you read the Calloway Sisters #1 and #2
before reading Thrive. However, if you have no intention of ever reading the spin-off series, then continue on.
Secondly, Thrive is not a novella. What we discovered is that people change in moments, in days, months and years. They learn, grow, and sometimes even regress. To show the evolution of Lily & Lo and their friendships in a little over two years, we needed more than a hundred pages. At one point, we thought—"let's cut out everything that happened in the spin-off books, act like it never existed and step over those months"—maybe it's too much for the reader to handle all in one space. But then we'd only give you a portion of the truth, of what really happened, and to do Lily & Lo's full story justice, you deserved the entire picture.
So this is their story. No holding back.
Hang in there. We'll see you at the end.
xoxo Krista & Becca
{ Prologue }
2 years : 05 months
LILY CALLOWAY
Life moves too slowly.
Loren Hale told me that once. When we were sixteen, lying on his bed with comic books spread around us. He clutched a bottle of Maker’s Mark to his chest and took a long swig.
For Lo—one minute on this Earth was a century. He was waiting for someone to end the pain of living.
Today he told me: Life moves too quickly.
After these two years, I have to agree.
Life does move too quickly. And I can’t predict a second of it.
PART ONE
“You know I am not good with words. Or anything else.”
— Laura Kinney, X-23 Vol 3 #1
{ 1 }
0 years : 00 months
August
LILY CALLOWAY
Whenever I envisioned my twenty-first birthday, it included lots of booze, maybe some drugs, and a giant pack of male strippers. A giant pack. Possibly even the kind of strippers that give you a little something special at the end. That imagination belonged to a different Lily. From a different time. Possibly a different cosmic universe. At least that’s what it feels like.
My twenty-first birthday, in actuality, is far less toxic. And the only men I’m celebrating with happen to be my boyfriend and his brother—as far from male strippers as I can get.
In fact, I had proposed a nice birthday in front of the television, but Lo dragged me out of the house, seducing me with my favorite place in Philly: Lucky’s Diner. I previously told my sisters that I would not be having a party, and this impromptu event resulted after Lo found out. Now I kinda wish I invited Rose or Daisy or even my eldest sister Poppy.
A long wave of awkward silence passes between Ryke and me, and I silently beg Lo to return to the table. But he stands by the hostess podium, still talking to the manager about closing the blinds.
Ten cameramen are stationed outside of the diner, some heftier cameras perched on their shoulders, the lenses pressed to the glass window. A week ago we learned that Ryke’s mom leaked my sex addiction to the press, the reason I am now on the front page of tabloids and discussed across social media.
Ryke keeps blaming himself, even when we tell him not to. If anything, this is all my fault. I’m the one who went down this path. If it wasn’t true, it’d be a different story, right? But I’m a sex addict. Everyone knows it. And now we have to figure out how to deal with this spotlight.
The quiet grates on me, and I instantly break it without thinking. “You know what’s funny, I always thought today would consist of a pack of male strippers,” I blurt out. Why, Lily, why? I look anywhere but his face, already feeling my cheeks heat.
“A pack?” Ryke says in disbelief. “Men are fucking people too, Lily. Can you not talk about them like you’re ordering a case of beer? And…what the fuck?”
I think he should have started with what the fuck. But I let that go.
He adds, “Don’t tell me you used to look at men and only saw another dick to ride.”
I flush but manage to reply despite my embarrassment. “Used to. Key word. Past tense,” I say quickly. “Now I see all the other anatomy.” I wave my hands towards him and then realize what I’m doing. “Not that I ever thought about you as just a dick. I mean, I thought you were a dick, but the metaphorical kind. Not the kind I would ride.” Holy shit. I just need to shut up.