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“The wind in your hair,” Connor adds, smiling as he sips his water.

“Shut the fuck up,” I say lightly.

Lo’s face sharpens as he thinks about this. He glances at Connor, then at me before he says, “If I go with you, I think Connor should come too.”

I glare because I can feel Connor gloating beside me. “Why?”

“Why?” Connor says like it’s the stupidest question ever. I feel like he’s about to say Because I’m me.

I have to stop him before I choke on his fucking arrogance. “Seriously,” I say to Lo. “He has a wife that’ll castrate you if you bring him back broken. What if he chips a nail?”

“Then I’ll get a manicure,” Connor quips. “There are solutions to everything. You just have to think to find them. Such hard work.”

“Are we fucking friends?” I ask Connor, glowering. Lo just watches in slight amusement, but really, I think he’s processing my proposal.

“I’m not sure what a ‘fucking’ friend is, so I can’t answer you.”

“Look at that, I know something that Connor Cobalt doesn’t.”

“When it comes to slang, made up words, and the best fire hydrants to piss on, yes, you do.”

“Fuck you.”

“You keep saying it, but you still haven’t done it.” His lips curve upward.

Lo cuts us off, “If you’re both going to be this annoying the whole trip, then I’m choosing rehab.”

“So you’re coming with me?” I ask, internally letting out a deep fucking breath. I feel like I helped him dodge a bullet, and I’m waiting for the gun to reload.

“Yeah, but like I said, only if Connor comes. No offense, Ryke, but I’m afraid we’re going to kill each other if we’re together for that long.” If we bring up our family issues, we just may.

Connor’s a big peacemaker in our circle of friends. He may like to irritate me on purpose, but when everyone starts fighting, he’s the one who calms people down. So I can understand Lo wanting him to come along.

“Fine with me,” I tell him.

My phone buzzes in my shorts. I think it’s Daisy. 1 p.m. in Paris. I check the message.

I’d like to see you before you go kill yourself on a goddamn mountain. – Jonathan

I glare and delete the message.

“Who was that?” Lo asks. “You look pissed.”

“My mom,” I lie. Although, she did text me five times last night. I never answer her, even though it’s the same plea: Come see me. I’m sorry. Ryke, please. I need to see you. I love you.

I’ll always love my mom because she’s my mother. But I can’t ever forgive her for what she’s done to me, to Lily, to the Calloway girls, my brother and inadvertently Connor.

She read my personal texts to Lo, where we talked about Lily’s sex addiction. And she sold the information to the media with the headline: Daughter of Fizzle Creator and CEO is Confirmed Sex Addict. Selling Lily out wasn’t just for money. It was to hurt Lo, and that way, she’d hurt Jonathan.

But she also fucking hurt me.

Now, all six of us are famous because of Sara Hale.

Thanks Mom.

RYKE MEADOWS

Emergency! SOS! – Lily

I eat one bite of my fucking sub at Lucky’s before Lily sends me an SOS. It seems too comical to be serious. I set the sub on the wrapper, tomatoes and lettuce falling from the bread. “Did you guys get a text from Lily?” I ask Connor and Lo across from me.

Lo freezes, clutching his Fizz Life can. “No, what does she want?”

It’s unusual for Lily to text me before Lo. “I don’t know yet.” I text back: What’s wrong?

Connor scrolls through his phone, more agitation passing across his features than I think he’d want to show.

“Your shipment of handcuffs not come in, sweetheart?” I ask him before picking my sub back up in two hands.

“Hoping I’ll cuff you to my bed?” he banters, his face returning to that impassive, unreadable state. “I’d make good on your fantasies, but Rose would be pissed at the claw marks on the headboard.”

“Now I have claws?” I say with raised eyebrows.

He combats me by arching one. That fucker. “You’re lucky, I don’t usually let dogs sleep in my bed, but I’m willing to make an exception.”

I flip him off, and Lo’s leg bounces nervously beneath the table. He holds his hand up at me like what the fuck? “What’s going on with my girlfriend?”

Right on time, Lily calls me. I answer, and before I even ask, she explains. “Rose got a flat tire, and she refuses to call a tow truck.”

“I can fix it myself.” Rose’s icy voice bleeds through the speaker. She grunts a little, as though trying to lift the fucking spare tire.

“She’s in five-inch heels,” Lily notes. “I am impressed. I really am, but it’d be even more impressive if she knew what she was doing.”

“I can read,” Rose says. “I have the manual right here. I don’t need a man to show me how to fix a fucking tire.”

I scratch my jaw. Both Connor and Lo are glaring the hell out of me, hearing bits and pieces of both the girls’ voices without understanding what’s going on. I think Cobalt may snatch the fucking phone from my hand.

Off my gaze, he says, “Rose isn’t answering my texts.” That’s where his agitation stemmed from—he can sense when things aren’t right better than anyone.

“You want me to come out there?” I ask Lily. I’m going to anyway, but I figured that’s why she called. I motion to Lo to ask for the bill. Guess I’ll have to take my sub to-go. He flags down the waitress.

“Just in case Rose can’t fix it,” Lily says

“Doesn’t she have a husband for these situations?” Even though Connor wears suits and rides around in a limo, I’m fairly certain he’s smart enough to fix a fucking tire.

“She doesn’t want him to rub this in her face.”

I roll my eyes again.

“I can do this better than him,” Rose insists in the background. “I don’t need his help.”

Lily sighs. “I’m afraid she’s going to take an hour and then strangers are going to stop and try to help.”

“That’s why I handed you the pepper spray,” Rose tells her. She lets out an irritated scream. “Why is this so fucking heavy?”

“Maybe because it’s a fucking tire,” I deadpan.

Lily says, “You’re lucky she can’t hear you.” So I’m not on speaker then. She must turn to Rose because she adds, “And I’m not pepper spraying a nice person who tries to help us.”

“You would if they tried to rape you,” Rose retorts.

They’re so fucking dramatic. “No one is going to rape the two of you.”

Just like that, both Connor and Lo reach over the table to try and steal the phone from my hand. I hold it high above my head and lean further back.

“Bro,” Lo sneers, “I’m not messing around. Let me talk to her.”

“Is that Lo?” Lily says. “You have to come alone, Ryke. Lo will bicker with Rose and cause more problems. She’s already in a bad mood.” Anxiety pitches her voice, and I imagine her nervously biting her nails.

“I’ll come help you. Just text me the address,” I tell Lily before I hang up. Lo’s eyes flash murderously at me, and even Connor looks pissed. Rose has been putting a serious fucking wall up between them lately. But they have a strange relationship already, filled with mind games that I can’t keep up with.

“The girls have a flat tire,” I explain. “Lily said Rose didn’t want you there.” I nod to Connor. “And since you get on Rose’s last fucking nerve…” I nod to Lo. “She doesn’t want you there either.” I stand and open my wallet, throwing a hundred dollar bill down. “I’ll drive.”

There’s no way I wouldn’t bring Connor and Lo with me.

That’s his wife and his fiancée.

I’m just the manual fucking labor.

* * *

When we arrive, Rose

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