The loyal part of me almost comes to Rose’s aid, who rarely ever cries. But she’s ready with a quick response. I realize that she’s prepared for this type of questioning. “I’ve talked with our parents. They both support the idea. They’ve consulted the publicists who believe we can’t sink much further, and maybe the media attention will finally be positive.” She pauses to take a much needed breath. “So yes, Poppy, I’m willing to put our family under more scrutiny. For Fizzle. For Lily. And selfishly, for my fashion line.”
Poppy relaxes a little more, and she fixes her brown hair off her shoulder. “Honestly, I wish I could just say yes. I want to stand by your side and support you, Rose, but I have a four-year-old daughter. I don’t want a camera in her face, and neither does Sam.”
“I understand,” Rose says. “I’ll get the contracts to Daisy and Lily to look over. The show can go on without you.”
I add, “But you will be missed.”
Rose rolls her eyes. “That was implied.”
The sex scandal has rocked my family in so many ways, but I just now realize that I’m not completely aware of the degree that it’s affected Poppy. I just kinda hoped, all along, that it didn’t.
“Is she okay?” I ask Poppy, changing the subject again. “Maria, I mean. Paparazzi aren’t following her around or anything, right?”
“No, nothing like that,” Poppy says. “I think her last name saved her from the press. Stokes isn’t as volatile as Calloway right now.”
Good. At least one person in my family dodged the speeding bullet. I just wonder how many bullets a reality show will release, and who will be caught in the crossfire this time.
{ 10 }
0 years : 04 months
December
LOREN HALE
“Stop calling,” I say with edge into the flip phone. Lily sits on the kitchen counter, eating peanut butter from a jar. My gaze lingers on her, especially as she sucks her index finger and lifts her thin legs to her chest.
My breathing deepens for a second, honing in on the way she licks the peanut butter off. She hasn’t realized how sexual it looks, and I bask in this moment—the one before she blushes in embarrassment.
I grab two glasses in the cabinet beside her head, my arm brushing her cheek. My cock says to walk forward and fit right up against her. I wait, only to watch her longer. She pops her finger out of her mouth, her eyes radiating with eagerness when they meet mine. It’s a come hither that I return, edging closer. But instead of acting on her feelings, she tries to focus on the peanut butter.
I set the glasses on the counter and run my hand through the side of her hair. Christ, I want inside of her. Now. But she ignores the motion and squints at the label on the jar.
Through the phone’s speaker, Rose’s cold voice disrupts my thoughts. “You shouldn’t answer Lily’s cellphone. She has two hands.”
“Yeah? Well one is occupied,” I retort.
Lily rests the jar between her knees and lets out an audible moan with her second scoop of peanut butter. Goddamn. My dick screams at me to respond to that noise. I resist, only because one of the biggest pains in my ass is still on the phone.
“You better not be—”
“She’s eating,” I clarify, though that’s going to change once I hang up.
“Loren,” Rose snaps.
“She’s not blowing me. For Christ’s sake.”
Lily’s brows jump and her eyes bug. She mouths, what? Her gaze falls to the zipper on my jeans, and she blushes on cue.
I press the speaker button so she can hear her sister. And then I fish my button through my jeans, Lily’s mouth drops like I performed a fuckin’ circus trick.
I can’t help but smile. My girlfriend is beyond adorable.
Rose says, “I just want to know—”
“Privacy,” I state the one word that no one seems to understand, not even our friends and family. Maybe Poppy and Sam have their heads screwed on tight, since they both refused to sign their rights away to television producers.
“We asked to be alone on New Year’s Eve, and you’ve called us a record-breaking twenty times.”
“And Lily didn’t answer eighteen of those,” Rose notes.
“Are you dying?” I ask. “Please tell me you’re dying or suffering from a life-threatening affliction and not calling to check up on us.”
Lily mouths, be nice. But she’s ditched the peanut butter, her fingers hooked in my belt loops, drawing me nearer.