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He pushes me down against the couch, pinning me there.
I hear his unspoken words, wanna fucking wrestle, Calloway?
Wanna do something fucking crazy, Calloway?
Wanna make wolf pups with me, Calloway?
With you. With you.
Only with you.
Whether fate will be on our side. That’s another matter.
The front door bursts open and we all turn our heads. Ryke scoots a little so I can lift mine.
“Sorry we’re late!” Willow calls out, carrying a cake in the shape of a giant penis. I can’t tell if she’s white from the cold or the fact that she’s had to walk with an erect dick in her arms.
Either way, I’m glad to see her.
And the cake.
Because I have a theory that has never been proven wrong.
* * *
“I don’t know if I can eat that,” Lily says, eyes narrowed as Ryke cuts the head of the penis cake.
We’re all gathered in the kitchen, and I’ve just finished posting a picture of the cake to Instagram with the hashtags: #bachelorettecake #naughtynaughty
“It’s just fucking cake,” Ryke tells her. Fucking cake. My heart sings for a moment, my focus diverting quickly to Willow.
She pushes up her glasses and stands near her now-boyfriend. The two of them, together, cause all of us to kind of slyly watch their budding relationship.
Well, some of us are sly.
Lily always stares with a big, silly grin on her face.
Garrison leans casually against the refrigerator, an unlit cigarette peeking from the pocket of his leather jacket. Ryke is giving him a look like you’re not sneaking upstairs with our fucking sister. He’s not very sly either, but that’s purposeful.
“Why’d you take so long?” Lo asks in an accusing tone.
“We pulled over to fuck,” Garrison says dryly. Uh-oh.
Ryke’s jaw hardens. Lo’s sharpens. I like when they’re on the same side of things. When nothing separates them. Not anger or pain or another person.
Willow chokes on a breath. “We…didn’t.”
“They know that,” Garrison tells her.
Connor makes a pot of coffee. “It’s as though you want them to hate you.”
Garrison is quiet like Connor struck the soul of his sarcasm. “That’s stupid.”
“You said it, not me,” Connor states.
“Who wants the head?” I ask, raising a plate with a slice of cake, trying to soften whatever is about to happen.
“I’m trying to remember why I like you,” Lo tells Garrison, ignoring me, “but it’s all clouded by an image of me stabbing you, so be lucky I’m not holding a goddamn knife right now.”
Garrison almost smiles. “You still like me?”
Lo enunciates, “Me stabbing you to death. Value your own life for me, so you can at least be kind of frightened.”
It’s sweet. How much they want to protect Willow.
While opening a tub of vanilla ice cream, Willow leans close and whispers in my ear, “I’m so embarrassed.” Her cheeks are a little pale, and I definitely understand the word embarrassed today more than most days.
I hug her side and say super quietly, “They love you, you know?”
Her gaze flickers to Ryke, but the minute he turns towards her, she rapidly rotates back to me, even paler. They’re still on awkward terms.
Ryke mouths to me, what did I fucking do?
I shake my head and mouth, it’s okay. He wants to fix this relationship so badly, but it’s just going to take more time. I clutch my plate with the piece of cake. I guess I’m eating the head.
Despite this party being framed for a social media ploy, it’s been pretty amazing (minus the video clip). Rose hands Lily a middle portion of the cake and Lily just shakes her head. “I can’t eat the shaft.”
“Lil.” Lo melds his body behind hers. “It’s cake.”
“It’s a penis.”
“No, love, this is a penis.” He takes her hand and places it on his crotch.
“Lo!” A smile accompanies her squeal.
“Daisy!” My name causes me to shift my gaze slightly. Ryke stands by the towering penis. Swiftly, he scoops the cake in his palm—oh no—and chucks a piece at my face. It splats right against my nose and mouth and eyes.
My smiles stretches, tasting the sweet pink icing. It falls off my eyelashes enough to see Ryke lick chocolate cake off his finger.
I’ve never wasted cake like this, but I’d like to think that it’s going to a fun place, even if it’s not my stomach.
“This means war,” I warn him.
“Come at me, Calloway.”
I grab a hunk and throw it at his forehead. It hits him square in the cheek, and then the food fight explodes. We hit Lily and Lo with cake, and they join in, Lo and Ryke chucking more and more at us.
“Lo!” Lily says as he knocks off her Maid of Honor crown. I can’t stop laughing, and Ryke seizes me around the waist, picking me up and twirling me.
I bite his shoulder, and he tosses me over it. Upside-down, I see Garrison draw a heart on Willow’s cheek with icing. Then she draws a star on his.
Rose and Connor sip coffee by the pot, hand-in-hand. They remain clean and out of harm’s way. “Rose,” I sing-song with a wider smile. Ryke spins me so I can collect another handful of the destroyed cake.
She releases her death-grip on Connor, maybe anxious about the mess in her kitchen. She directs her manicured nail at me. “If you throw that anywhere near my outfit, you’ll quickly become my least favorite sister.”
“Duly noted.” Then I toss the glob of mutilated cake…at her husband. It hits him square in the heart, his white button-down dirtied with chocolate cake and pink icing.
Rose breaks into a grin.
Connor hardly flinches. “Your happiness is showing.”
“Good,” she says.
“Even at my suffering?” His lips rise.
“Yes.” She clutches his hand.
> He kisses her like he loves her even more for those words.
Ryke sets me down on my feet, and I breathe heavily as we stare at each other. Our hair sticky with frosting and cake from our bachelor and bachelorette party. His smile grows, and mine matches.
I glance over at the sound of a body hitting a cabinet.
Garrison is pressed up against Willow, their eyes closed, and their lips meeting. He deepens the kiss, and her hands waver, unsure of where to go, until he lifts them up. Her palms settle on the back of head, his baseball hat tumbling to the floor. In the moment, they don’t notice that or us.
It’s her first kiss.
And I love that it’s on my birthday. Happiness reigns today.
Ryke kisses my cheek, pulling my gaze onto him. I swing my arms around his shoulders, my smile still full and his eyes unnaturally light. Tomorrow it all could change. It probably will. But that dull ache in my heart has been stomped on for now.
He lowers his head, and his lips graze my ear.
“Happy birthday, Calloway.”
DAISY CALLOWAY
I stretch my legs across Ryke’s lap, cramped in the front seat of my tiny sports car for three hours and counting. We parked outside of this giant mega hunting & camping store, and according to our private investigator, a potential anonymous forum member frequents it.
Blue eyes.
Medium height.
Longish brown hair.
One tattoo sleeve.
We’d go inside and linger, but we were spotted a week ago on a stakeout—and it created too much mayhem to stick around. Which brings us to:
Ryke and Daisy’s Grand & Daring Stakeout #48
Five months of stakeouts and I’ve gravitated towards blonde wigs, but I mixed it up and chose a long, cotton candy pink one this time.
I retract my legs and cross them beneath my bottom, restless. I feel the heat of Ryke’s gaze on me, but he stays relatively quiet, finishing off a water bottle. He tosses it in the backseat.
My phone buzzes, and my stomach curdles.
Where was your wedding? Can you send me some pics! Wish I could’ve been there. Love you. – Cleo
