Lo sidles up behind me and wraps his arms around my shoulders. “She’s very protective of me,” he tells the attendant. “It’s sweet actually, when she’s not going bat-shit crazy, that is.”
The attendant smiles warmly, and I punch Lo in the arm. “I’m not crazy.”
His eyes soften in an apology. “I know.”
I carry the large stack of magazines in my hands, Lo and Ryke refusing to help on principle. The drive home is layered in awkward tension. I start reading the articles, and my anger only escalates. The word nymphomaniac sets me on edge. I’ve always identified with being an addict, and calling me a nympho makes it harder to argue that sex addiction is real. So many people claim sex addiction is used to excuse people of their philandering ways. And that’s not what this feels like at all.
By the time Lo pulls into the driveway, I’m fuming.
I jump out of the car only a second before it stops moving. “Wait up, Lily!” Lo yells at me. But I’m on a mission.
Brett and Savannah appear out of nowhere, but I’m sure they were waiting for us to come home. Their cameras zip to me and flash to Lo and Ryke. I walk past in a hurry.
“You’re being overdramatic!” Ryke screams at me.
I open the door. “I’m not being overdramatic!” I yell back. Okay, that was a little dramatic. I storm into the kitchen, shifting the magazines so they don’t fall over.
I make it to the sink and toss them right in. Perfect. Then I bend down to a bottom cupboard where Lo keeps the lighter fluid for the grill outside. I take it out and start squirting the pile of magazines.
“Whoa!” Lo and Ryke yell together. They rush me all at once, and then I feel someone else pry the plastic squirt bottle from my hand.
Connor.
Where the hell did he come from?
Lo draws me to his chest, his hands snug around my waist in comfort, but I hardly calm down. I just want to destroy the thing that has hurt me. If I can’t reply to the reporters or the comments, I might as well take it out on the actual magazines.
My older sister suddenly appears, tossing the soiled magazines in a large trash bag. Dammit. I struggle in Lo’s arms, hoping to reach at least a single tabloid and set it on fire.
It’s clear by his firm grip that he’s not letting me go.
“What’s going on?” Connor asks. His calm voice hardly instills tranquility. Tears threaten to rise, so helpless and angry, a toxic mixture that burrows nasty emotions inside of me.
“People suck!” I scream.
Connor reaches for a tabloid before Rose adds it to the others in the trash bag. He doesn’t even flip it open, not that he could. The soaked pages cling together.
“I don’t fucking care about the rumors.” Ryke extends his arms. “How many times do I have to say that?”
“I’m not a cheater! I don’t even like being an alleged cheater,” I say, my heart racing. It’ll fly out of my chest any minute now. It’s not fair to me or to Lo. He doesn’t deserve to be with “the girl who can’t close her legs.”
I point a finger at the magazines. “And I hate being called a nympho!”
“What do you want to do about it, Lil?” Lo asks, his lips near my ear. “Throw a tantrum in front of the cameras. Done. They’ve got your reaction on film.”
I go utterly still. That’s not what I wanted.
Connor clears his throat. “Or you could light this on fire.” He tosses the magazine into Rose’s trash bag. “It might be cathartic.”
My shoulders lift at the thought.
Rose gives Connor a disapproving look. “Don’t encourage her.” She drops the bag and keeps her lighter-fluid soaked hands away from her clothes. I didn’t mean for her to clean up my mess. I would have done it. Guilt bears down on me, and before I can apologize, a voice rings out from the living room.
“Are you fucking serious?!” Julian yells.
Daisy’s boyfriend has her up against the wall, his nose in her face, and his hands on either side of her head. He’s pinning her. My heart does fly out of my chest, but it’s not even because of the tabloids. Daisy…
“Do you know the hell that I went through for you?!”
Oh my god.
“HEY!” Ryke shouts. Before I can blink, he’s running, his whole demeanor changing to a furious, dark Ryke Meadows in a split second. Brett sprints beside him, keeping his camera angled to the living room in case of a fight. I try to take a step forward, but Lo won’t release me, not even for this.