Read Online Hothouse Flower by Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie - Free Book Online Page B

asks lightly.
    “ Shhh ,” I whisper, “it’s safe
here.”
    Just when I anticipate Ryke drawing away from me, he surprises me and kisses the top of my head. But it
lasts only a second before his hands fall. His brows scrunch as he glares at
something over my shoulder. I turn my head and follow his gaze, spotting a Celebrity Crush magazine by the coffee
pot.
    “Who still buys that garbage?”
    “Lily,” I say. “I think my sister’s hoping people will
forget about our family.”
    “She’s dreaming.” Ryke leaves my
side to grab the magazine. He flips through it quickly, and I catch the main
headline on the front cover before he trashes it. Photo! Lily Calloway Dating Her Fiancé and His Brother.
    “What’s the photo of?” I ask curiously, rinsing the cereal
bowl.  
    “The three of us eating lunch at Lucky’s downtown. The press can keep saying I’m banging your fucking sister, but we all
know it’s a load of—”
    “Shit,” I finish. “Bullshit.” I mock gasp. “ Fucking bullshit.”
    He stares at me with harshness that would intimidate most
people. But I don’t back down. My eyes stay locked on his piercing ones, and
then his lips slowly rise. “When did your mouth get so fucking dirty,
Calloway?” he asks.
    “The moment I became friends with you.”
    “Good on me then,” he says, messing my hair with a rough
hand. “I’m tailing you when we leave, by the way.”
    “You’re supposed to be my pillow, not my bodyguard,” I
remind him. “I already have one of those.” His name is Mikey Black. He’s in his forties and used to be a physical trainer in California.
Unlike Lily’s bodyguard who’s a bit beefy and wears oversized suits, mine likes
to dress in Bermuda shorts in the winter and cut-off shirts. He’s pretty cool.
    “He can’t keep up with you,” Ryke says, sidling next to me. He watches as I stick the bowl into the dishwasher.
    “He taught me how to surf this summer,” I refute.
    “He only rides Harleys, and they can’t go as fucking fast as
your sportbike . I’ve never seen him pass a
paparazzi’s car when he’s with you.” That’s true. I end up being flocked by
SUVs. Like tonight. I tried to outmaneuver them, but they sped up behind me,
forcing me to go a little faster. And Mikey was lost
somewhere with my shift from eighty miles per hour to a hundred-and-five on the
interstate.
    “He smells like salt water and candy,” I tell him. “Sometimes
even cupcakes.”
    Ryke gives me a blank stare.
    “Those are selling points,” I say.
    “Not for me.”
    “There’s nothing better
than cupcakes, except maybechocolate
cake, but that’s still in the cupcake family.”
    “Sex,” he says. “Sex is better than chocolate.” He always
tells me this.
    “Not for me,” I use his exact words.
    His eyes descend to my lips. I swear they do this time. But
it happens so quickly. Maybe it was just me wanting it badly again… I don’t
know why I torture myself. It’s not like we can act on anything, even if he
does admit to liking me as more than just non-fucking friends.
    I let the moment go. Like I always do. “What makes you think
that you can keep up with me more than Mikey ?” I ask.
    He leans close again. “Because,” he says, “I’m the one who
taught you how to ride a motorcycle.”
    I smile. Yes he did.

 
    < 8 >
    RYKE MEADOWS
     
    “Watch me,” I tell Daisy as I stand by her bedroom
door. I jiggle the handle. “Locked.”
    She yawns, sitting on her bed, her legs tucked to her chest.
Her eyes are deceivingly at ease, but her tense shoulders say otherwise.
    I do the same fucking thing every night. I head over to the
window next and pull back her green curtains, attempting to lift the window.
She watches my biceps contract, my muscles carving into defined lines, to
ensure that I’m actually trying .
“Locked,” I say.
    I pass the foot of the bed and raise my eyebrows at her in
jest, and I catch her small smile before I disappear into the bathroom. I