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Thrive (Addicted, #4)(42)

Author:Krista Ritchie & Becca Ritchie

“Fucking hilarious.” And then he undoes her bun, sliding her hairband on his wrist and messing her long locks with a rough hand. Her blonde strands stick out wildly. When he finishes touching her, a small smile peeks on the corner of her lips.

“Out of curiosity,” she says, not fixing her unkempt hair, “where do you pick up girls?”

Ryke glances at his brother, just recognizing that we’re in the room with him. I know what it feels like to be so magnetized by someone that you forget about your surroundings.

My lips part at a sudden realization.

Ryke may be actually falling for my sister.

A girl who turns seventeen next month.

It’s a feeling, but one I sense deep in my bones like I did Connor and Rose.

I can’t tell Lo about my suspicions. Nothing good will come of that.

“You’re always curious,” Ryke answers vaguely. Still, he has trouble censoring himself. “I meet people at the gym or really anywhere I fucking go out.”

“Have you dated a fan?” she asks.

Lo interjects, “Yeah he has. Twice so far. And they were his age.”

Ryke stares at the ground, not saying a word. I can’t read his dark expression either.

“Cool,” Daisy says, nodding a couple times. “I bet they were sweet. I’ve considered dating a fan, but most of mine are too old.”

“Like twenty-three?” Lo wonders, his voice biting. I wince. That’s Ryke’s age.

“No, more like thirty-five.”

I’m pretty sure Daisy is picking up all the hints. She’s just dismissing them with ease.

I hold onto Lo’s arm. He’s at such a good place with Ryke. I don’t want that to change because of my little sister. Maybe, one day, it’ll have to, but not now.

“You should consider dating someone around your age, Dais,” Ryke says pointblank.

“I have,” she says, heading towards the door. “It hasn’t been anything special.” With this, she leaves. My eyes meet the camera lens that remains pointed at me. Jeez.

“She likes you way too much,” Lo says.

“Look, I’m trying to shut her down without hurting her fucking feelings,” Ryke retorts. “But she’s my friend. I’m not going to push her away completely.”

“Here’s a tip: maybe you shouldn’t talk about jacking off in front of her.” Lo crosses his arms. “Is it that fucking hard?”

“For me, it is.”

Lo stares at him for a long minute. I anticipate something really nasty. He says, “I bet your teachers hated you in high school.” That wasn’t so bad.

Ryke lets out a laugh. “I got detention almost every day for saying fuck. So yeah, they weren’t too fond of me.”

I peek past Lo’s shoulder to scrutinize the showers again. “They’re huge.”

“It’ll be okay,” Lo reassures me, his hands lowering to my hips.

I hope so, but everything the production company has setup feels like drama bait.

We’re bound to feed into it.

{ 14 }

0 years : 05 months

January

LOREN HALE

“This is ridiculous.” I flip through a five page script in disbelief. As soon as we arrived at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, Scott handed me what I thought was a museum pamphlet. Turns out production wants Lily to talk and act a certain way. Most of which is crude.

Lily leans over my arm and gasps as she reads a line. “I can’t say that.”

I skim the paper and see where she’s concerned.

Lily stares into Loren’s eyes with longing and carnal desire.

Lily: I remember how you tasted last night. I can’t wait to taste you again.

“Jesus Christ,” I curse. “This is like a bad porno.” I scan the small crowd, hoping it won’t grow into a larger one later today. Quickly, I find Scott speaking in hushed tones to Brett, who has a camera attached to his chest.

I take Lily’s hand and lead her over to the twenty-eight-year-old dipshit. As soon as we approach, he turns and I chuck his five-page script at his body. It hits his chest with barely a sound and then flops to the floor. “We’re not reading off a script,” I snap.

Scott Van Wright has found every way to grate on me in the shortest amount of time. First off—he lives with us. No one fucking invited him to permanently crash upstairs. Secondly, I can’t stand to look at his dirty blond hair, his smug face, and those douchebag tailored pants. He’s like the anti-Connor. An arrogant prick who one-ups you and screams about it at the top of his lungs.

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