Home > Books > Thrive (Addicted, #4)(134)

Thrive (Addicted, #4)(134)

Author:Krista Ritchie & Becca Ritchie

“When you put it like that, it sounds hotter than you think.” I flush a little bit.

He doesn’t make fun. “I don’t see how. Sister. Brother. Immediately kills everything, Lil.”

I shrug. “I kind of shipped them during Princesses of Philly. Didn’t you?” He’ll understand my fandom reference. To ship: aka, to fangirl hard over a prospective relationship.

He cringes like it’s a gross thought. “She was seventeen during the show. They’re not even legitimately together.”

“That’s never stopped you from wanting a ship to sail.” He’s a not-so-closeted Sterek shipper from Teen Wolf.

He rolls his eyes and lets out a deep sigh. I think it’s only appropriate that we’re talking about fandoms and ships in a place that birthed one of my favorite television shows: Roswell. Aliens never looked so hot than on The WB.

“Lil,” he says. “Let’s just say, theoretically, they’re together right now, doing…” The muscles in his jaw twitch and Wampa is a sad ball in one of his fists. “…whatever.”

I could add evidence that they’re doing something other than talking right now. Daisy had wild hair when she retreated from her tent in the morning, and I know post-sex hair. But just adding that fact will draw more irritated wrinkles by his brows.

“…then why,” he continues, “have they not announced it to anyone?”

“They’re scared of how you’ll react,” I say. And then I yawn. No one ever told me that being pregnant makes you tired. No one except Web M.D.

At my yawn, he steps nearer to me, our shoes touching. I didn’t know yawns worked like magnets, but I’m liking it.

“Yeah?” He swallows hard and glares at the ground. “Then why hasn’t Daisy at least told you or Rose, someone else?”

“I don’t know,” I whisper, thinking more about this. “Do you think they’ve told everyone but us?” The idea hurts a little. Sure, we’ve kept things from all of them. We all choose who to share information with, but it definitely stings being on the receiving side, the ones in the dark.

“She would’ve told you, Lil,” Lo says with certainty. But I’m not so sure. It agitates him though—I can see it in his stiff posture. He hates that his brother would keep this from him. I worry, mostly, about Ryke’s intentions with my little sister. If he’s sneaking around with her, then their relationship can’t be as real as something like Rose and Connor’s. It has to be more sexual, and that makes me nervous.

I want Daisy to have the best guy out there. The one that gives her everything. Kissing in the dark, while fun, it’s not the type of relationship that will last.

“Can we just forget about it for now?” he asks. “It’s pissing me off.”

“You’re hurting Wampa,” I point out.

He realizes that he’s crushing my hat, and then he places it back on my head. His amber eyes flit over my face with a bit of longing, filled with more clarity than they have been in the past few months. I’d say: now is the time to tell him about the baby.

But something dark swirls behind those eyes that frightens me. Pain that he has yet to deal with.

It’s way too soon. The weeks are ticking down, but I still have some time, I think, before I start showing.

Lo tucks a piece of my hair underneath the fuzzy hat, and then his fingers brush the sensitive skin on my neck. Shivers run down my arms.

I shudder and hold onto his biceps.

“I’m happy that you’re here,” he whispers.

Happiness is better than just glad. It’s brighter and fuller and something I wish I felt more, but most of the time, I always sense it with him. “Me too,” I breathe.

He leans in to kiss me, a smile playing at the corner of his lip. I may not get this kiss so easily. I try to close the gap. He quickly leans back and then plants a kiss on my forehead.

“Just take your time,” Connor says.

I blush, but when we both turn our heads, Connor is standing in the middle of the museum with a phone to his ear. Rose sips an iced coffee and glares at a cheap cutout of an alien.

“We stopped in Roswell because Lily and Lo wanted to see the aliens,” he says. “They spent four hours in the museum—excuse me, I mean the propaganda shit hole.”

Spent. We’re about to leave, I take it. And we haven’t even reached the biggest exhibit at the end of the museum. There are extraterrestrial things left to be seen.

Lo wraps his arm around my shoulder and lets out a short laugh. “And you made us spend three hours at a graveyard,” he says to Connor.