Addicted to You

WE AGREE to meet in the lobby of the Drake since we drove in two separate cars. When I walk in, I’m not surprised to see him waiting by the golden elevators. My bio book rests under his arm, and for the first time I allow myself a good look at Ryke. Without his Green Arrow costume, he appears slightly older, especially with a stubbly jaw and tanned skin. Underneath his white track shirt, I’m sure lies very toned and very lean muscles. He has a face that could force girls to their knees, but so does Lo.

I can’t imagine the two of them squaring off. Ice vs. Stone. Sharpness vs. Hardness. Cold vs. Hot. They’re different, yet somehow, they’re still alike.

Ryke presses the button when he sees me approach. “You look like you’re going to vomit.”

“I’m not,” I mumble a stupid reply, thankful that the elevator doors burst open and slice the awkwardness. I slide in and hit the top floor. When they close, Ryke spins around and faces me, positioning himself in front of the doors, as though hoping I won’t bolt the second they break apart.

“I lied,” he starts.

My jaw unhinges. “Wha…” This was a bad idea.

“I’m not actually going to Comic-Con—”

“I knew it!” I should have listened to my gut. “Get out.”

He tilts his head with a frown at my asinine order. “We’re on a fucking elevator. In fact…” He presses the emergency stop, and it rumbles to a halt. Oh my God. He’s going to murder me! I spring to the buttons to restart the elevator, but he shields my passage by extending his arms and then lightly pushing me back.

“Let me out!”

“I need you to listen to me,” Ryke starts. “I am a journalism major. I do write for The Philadelphia Chronicle. But I have no intention of going to Comic-Con.”

“Then why—”

“Because I want to help your boyfriend, and I needed you to get me at least this far so I could explain the rest.”

My defensive barriers start rising tenfold. “We don’t need your help! I can take care of him.” I point to my chest. “I’ve taken care of him my whole life.”

“Yeah?” Ryke’s eyes narrow heatedly. “How many times have you watched him pass out? Tossing a few aspirins isn’t helping him, Lily. He has a fucking problem.”

My cheeks burn, and I take in his words very carefully. It hurts to see Lo drink so excessively. It hurts to watch him depend on one drink after the next, and I constantly fear the day where it becomes too much. But I always bury those worries with carnal pleasures and a natural high. My voice softens. “Why do you want to fix him so badly?”

Ryke stares at me with more empathy than I thought he was capable of. “My father is an alcoholic, and I don’t want Lo to turn out like him. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

I ask a question that has been plaguing me for some time. “How can you know Lo’s an alcoholic? You don’t know him. You’ve seen him once on his twenty-first birthday, and he was passed out more than he was awake.”

Ryke shrugs. “I can just tell, especially with the way you became possessive over his flask. He’d be truly pissed if someone wasted his expensive alcohol, wouldn’t he?”

He would. I bite my nails. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”

Ryke edges forward. “Let me try to help him.”

I shake my head. “Lo won’t let you.”

“I figured as much, and that’s why I can start by hanging around you guys, getting to know him.”

The pieces start adding together. “Comic-Con. You want to keep up the lie to grow closer to Lo so you can try to influence him. You want me to lie?” I’m not sure this will work. We’ve already allowed Connor into our lives—another person may unsettle an already off-kilter balance.

“Yeah,” Ryke says. “I want you to lie to your boyfriend so that he has a chance to get better. You think you can do that, Lily? Or are you going to be fucking selfish and let him continue this destructive path? One day, he may never wake up. One day, his body may shut down. And you’re going to think back to this moment and wonder why you didn’t agree to this proposition—why you didn’t try something else to help your boyfriend.”

I stumble back, punched in the gut. “I don’t want him to die,” I murmur.

“Then do something about it.”

I nod out of impulse, but I haven’t processed what this means in the long run. That I’ll have to lie to Lo. Can I do it? My brows scrunch in thought. I think I can. Lo has more to lose if I don’t try. Surviving another debacle like Halloween sounds less and less likely, and I struggle to help Lo because of our relationship and my vice. No second party has ever offered aid before. And if Lo was given the same deal to help me, would he take it?

I know he would.

I look back up at Ryke. “I still don’t like you.”

“I’m not very fond of you either,” he admits and hands me my bio book.

“What did I do to you?” I frown. Why doesn’t he like me?

He presses a button and the elevator groans to a start. We rise. “You’re too skinny. You whine too much. And you enable an alcoholic.”

I purse my lips. “I’m already regretting this.” But I’ll suffer through Ryke’s mean comments if it gives Lo a chance to get better.

“I warned you that I’m not easy to get rid of.”

I thought he was exaggerating. The elevator doors slide open, and I lead him to my apartment even though he knows the way. The thought is as unsettling as the looming situation. The last time he was here, Lo had been unconscious to the world. Moments ago, I hoped Lo would find a way to kick him out, now I have to defend Ryke, who has proved to be an annoying force in my life.

I unlock the door and toss my jangling keys in the basket.

Lo calls to me from the bedroom. “Lil, we’re going to watch Blow Hard, and I’m going to fuck you better than…” He trails off to read the label on the back of the DVD while my eyes bug, not willing a peek at Ryke by my side. “…a group of pierced thugs. Huh…”

“Lo!” I yell.

“I don’t like that one either,” he says. I hear the sound of DVD cases clattering together.

Ryke clears his throat beside me, and I glimpse at him for a millisecond, catching sight of his raised brows at me. Can this get more awkward?

“Or would you rather I sucked every part of you, love?”

Oh my God.

If Ryke’s uncomfortable, he doesn’t let on. Between the two of us, I’m the one shrinking back. After only a second, Lo emerges from the bedroom. He wears nothing but a pair of jeans, the band of his boxer-briefs peeking from the hem. On a normal day, I’d take in the ridges of his abs, the curve of his muscles that seem to lead towards something much lower and much more sinful. He would flash those bedroom eyes and tease me for thirty minutes. Then he’d lift me in his arms and carry me to his mattress. He’d draw out every movement, every look, everything to excite my body and electrify my nerves.

Instead, he freezes in the space between the hallway and the kitchen. His face sharpens, and his muscles cut into rigid lines.

I open my mouth to introduce Ryke, but Lo ignores me and sets an ice-cold glare on him. “Who the fuck are you?”

Ryke takes the words with ease. “Green Arrow.”

Lo’s face contorts in confusion.

He doesn’t remember what happened. I step forward and come to his side. “He’s from the Halloween party,” I say. “He helped stop the fight.” And he carried you home.

Lo nods. “Thanks then.” He shifts to me, keeping his back to Ryke. His voice lowers so Ryke can’t hear. “We’re on a schedule, Lil. You shouldn’t have brought him to the apartment.”

I frown. “You’re not going to ask me why he’s here?”

His eyes flicker hesitantly to Ryke. “Right now,” he whispers, “I’m more concerned with satisfying you.”

“I’m okay,” I tell him. “This morning was good enough.”

“Are you sure?” His brows furrow. “I only came inside you twice.”

I swallow, sensitive spots throbbing. Well now I’m not so sure. But I have to try to wait. “I can hold out.”

He puts two fingers underneath my chin and tilts my head up. “I don’t know if I believe you.” He takes a step forward, causing me to take one back, repeating the movements until my spine hits a bar stool. I grip it behind me, and he pins me against it with two hands on the counter.

“We have company,” I remind him.

“Like I give a shit,” Lo whispers. He kisses me hard, stealing my breath, and my back arches to meet his pelvis. His hand slips into my jeans pocket.

Ryke says, “Lily.”

I immediately separate my lips from Lo’s, and I lean back into the stool to try to avoid his touch.

Lo clenches his teeth, and his head whips to Ryke. “Clearly, I’m trying to fuck my girlfriend. So leave.”

“Look, you can do whatever you want to her later.” He sets his hard gaze on me for extra reinforcement. This is where I should agree and peel away from Lo, but his fingers slip into the band of my jeans, sliding underneath my panties in the back. He has a hand planted firmly on my ass.

“Lo,” I warn. “He asked us for help, and we owe him a favor…”

He squeezes, and my knees nearly buckle. He keeps me standing by pinning his weight against me. “You really want to entertain this guy?”

Obviously not, but it’s the right thing to do. Before, we would have shooed him out of the door, distancing ourselves from everyone in sight. Being alone, together, that’s our thing. Adding a new person into the mix—that’s something we haven’t quite figured out yet.

With his other hand, he unbuttons my jeans.

“Lo!” I shriek. He’s trying to make Ryke so uncomfortable that he flees, but what I’ve come to understand about the guy, he’s impenetrable among all offenses. Somehow, I disentangle Lo from my body and button my jeans, my neck heating as I create distance from him.

I stand between Lo by the kitchen and Ryke by the foyer, wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do now.

Lo angles his body so he has a good view of Ryke. “You’re still here.”

Ryke scrutinizes Lo, trying to figure him out from afar. “Lily said you both would help me with research on Comic-Con.”

Lo takes this in. “She agreed to this?” He looks down at me. “That’s unlike you.”

“I owe him.”

Lo’s jaw locks as his eyes flicker to Ryke. “And you can’t come back later?”

“I’m here now. What’s the big deal?”

Lo scowls at him like he’s a moron. “You’re cock-blocking me, that’s the big fucking deal.”

I want to disappear. Like right now.

Ryke glances at me and then tilts his head at Lo without a shadow of insecurity. “Have sex with her later. I’m not stopping you.” He inches closer. “Lily, you want to show me your comics or should I go find them myself?”

Lo interjects. “Hey, I don’t know you. There’s no way in hell you’re going to be alone with her.”

“Lo, it’s fine,” I tell him. Really, I have zero desire to do anything sexual with Ryke, and I’m pretty sure the feeling is mutual.

Ryke inspects Lo once more and then he nods. “If I was you, I’d probably be the same way. Some strange guy creeping in with your girlfriend—I get it. It’s weird.”

“That’s an understatement,” Lo says flatly. “I make out with my girlfriend, you stand there. I put my hand down her pants, you stand there. I tell you I’m going to fuck her, you stand there. What am I supposed to make of that?”

My heart beats wildly, and I’ve lost the ability to breathe. I must be dreaming. Yeah, this is a dream. I’ll wake up soon, but obviously not soon enough.

“That I’m a self-assured guy that likes to get what he wants, and right now that’s information about Comic-Con. Pretty simple, right?”

Lo takes this in.

To nudge his thoughts, I say, “I’ll grab a few New X-Men comics. Stay here.” I don’t give Lo the option of backing out. I disappear into his room, sprinting around to try and gather some issues. After I collect a handful, I rush out of the hallway.

Lo has crept into the kitchen where he opens a cupboard for a glass. When I pass Ryke by the sink, the guy gives me a look like help me.

I’m trying, I mouth.

Try harder, he mouths back.

I flip him off in a knee-jerk reaction, and he rolls his eyes. I set the comics on the counter beside him and then fill the space in the kitchen between Lo and Ryke.

Lo closes the fridge, plopping an ice cube into his whiskey. When he leans an elbow on the counter, he eyes me like come here. He’ll probably wrap an arm around my waist and let me sink my body into his.

No, Lily. I shake my head at him and wade in the center, unsure and uncomfortable.

His face sharpens at the rejection, and he directs his hate onto Ryke. “What do you need to know?”

He shrugs. “Anything.”

“Ever hear of Google?”

“You mean that little search engine on that thing called the internet? No, I’ve never heard of it before. Can you explain that to me too?” He flashes a dry smile.

Lo grits his teeth and looks at me. “Why is he here again?”

“He’s writing an article on Comic-Con, and we owe him a favor.”

Lo inhales sharply. “Fine.” He starts rattling off X-Men characters, mutant powers and how they fit into Earth 616, way too quickly for anyone to understand.

“Wait, wait.” Ryke holds up his hands. “What the hell is Earth 616?”

Lo already looks frustrated. He downs half his drink, and Ryke’s body tightens, as though each time Lo takes a sip is a bullet to his chest. His reaction actually makes me sidle to Lo and try something else.

I stand on the tips of my toes and whisper in his ear, “Hold me.”

Obligingly, Lo sets down his drink and wraps two arms around my hips, leaning my back into his chest. The public display should embarrass me, but Ryke ignores our affection like we’re just standing around.

I cut in, “Earth 616 is the Marvel universe.”

“That’s not too hard to understand,” Ryke says.

One of Lo’s hands creeps beneath my shirt and stays on my stomach. I am a horrible, horrible person. I should push him off and stay focused on the conversation, but if this deters him from drinking, then maybe it’s okay.

Lo says, “Not all Marvel comics take place in Earth 616.”

Ryke cocks his head. “Now I’m confused.”

I try to explain. “It’s used to denote Marvel’s primary continuity. There’s a string of comics that all fit together in sequential time…” I feel something cold on my lower back and stifle a gasp.

Lo runs an ice cube on my skin, teasing…and probably hoping Ryke will take a hint and leave. Concentrate, Lily.

I clear my throat. “Then there are other comics that will take the characters and screw around with them. These comics do not fit into Earth 616.” He slides the cube up my spine, my skin cold and prickling. Oh God… “Like Ultimate X-Men…it…”

The cube melts away and Lo rakes his fingers along the same wet trail. I tuck a piece of my hair back. “…It doesn’t fit in with any of the other X-Men comics. The same way The Ultimates don’t fit in with the Avengers line, even though they’re about the Avengers.”

Lo takes a small sip of his drink, and at first, I think my efforts aren’t helping, but he pops an ice cube out of his mouth, not even hiding what he’s doing from Ryke. A hand flies to my eyes, creating a blinder against any sort of judgment and awkwardness. Lo says to Ryke, “They’re alternate universes.”

“What’s better, the main line or the alternate universes?”

“They’re just different.”

The ice shocks me, and I flinch from Lo. I spin around and set my hands on his chest. Stop, I mouth.

His lips find my ear, and I have a feeling he’s glaring at Ryke as he whispers to me, “I’m going to take you so hard, you’re going to come with every thrust. And when you’re swollen and wet, all it’s going to take is me inside of you. I won’t even have to move for you to cry out.” Yes.

No! I try to focus even though my legs quake in desire. I keep my palms on his chest and push him back into the counters, away from me.

He clasps my wrists and devours me with his gaze. I would have put a hand on his shoulder and forced him to his knees by now. And he would willingly hold onto my thighs, spreading my legs open. Focus.

Ryke goes to the fridge. “Which do you guys read?”

Lo mouths to me, Ignore him.

I shake my head and break his hold on my wrists. “We both read Earth 616.”

Just as Ryke returns with a Diet Fizz, Lo picks up his glass again. I guess now that I’ve left his arms, he’s free to drink. Great. If I told him to stop, he’d shoot me one of those looks like maybe you should stop having sex. Right now, that sounds close to torture.

“You can take those comics,” I tell Ryke, thinking of a new solution quickly. “And you can stop by and return them when you’re done.”

Ryke actually looks impressed that I created a decent lie for him to come back.

Lo glares at me, his fingers tightening around the glass. “I don’t think it’s necessary for him to take our comics. He can sign up for an online subscription.” Ryke’s whole master plan involves becoming friends with Lo. According to him, the relationship will somehow help Lo stop drinking. I don’t understand it completely, but if he’s been around alcoholism, then I trust he knows more than me on good solutions.

“Don’t be rude, Lo,” I say.

He downs the rest of his drink. No, no, no. Before he can make another, I grab his wrists.

His eyebrows cinch. “Lily…” I’ve never told him how I feel about his addiction, and I can see the wheels spinning in his head, wondering if I’m about to fuck with our well-oiled system.

I’m not. I place his hands on my breasts, and his lips upturn in a crooked smile. He shifts both hands. One goes underneath my shirt, the other hooks around my shoulders, drawing me to his body. My back stays to Ryke, and as Lo kneads my breast, my willpower poofs into nothingness.

“I’ll bring these back tomorrow,” Ryke says. “Have fun fucking.” Oh my God.

Lo says, “You can keep those. Think of it as a gift for helping us at the party.” Translation: We’re even.

“I’d feel better returning them. Thanks for the invite, Lily.” Way to throw me under the bus. The door shuts, and he’s gone.

For a second, I realize Lo may have teased me in front of Ryke only to kick him out. And now that he has left, he may go to his vice and stop feeding mine. My fear lasts a single moment. Lo starts to make good on his promise and slams my back into the fridge. He’s going to take me hard.

He pins my wrists above my head. I try to move my body to meet his, but he puts considerable distance between us.

“Lo,” I whine, breathing heavily.

“You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” I moan and try to reclaim my hands. Touch me!

He edges closer, his body melding into mine, but he stretches my arms even further above my head.

“Lo.” I want to undo his pants. I want him to rip off my shirt. Instead, he keeps teasing me in this locked position.

“I understand that you felt like you owed this guy, but after this, we don’t owe him a thing, okay?”

I try to find words to refute like he’s nice. He’s not. He’s lonely. He’s not. “He means well.” I land on a truth and squirm underneath him. “Lo, please.” I need him. Now.

“Did you fantasize about him?”

I cringe. “What? No.” Is he worried I like him? “I think every word out of his mouth made me dryer and dryer.” How’s that for dislike?

“Then what’s this about, Lily?” He uses one hand to hold my wrists together above my head and then the other to unbutton my jeans.

“He…uh…” I can’t concentrate! “He asked me about comics…and…”

Lo tugs my jeans down, and I easily step out of them. The cold hits my flesh and I ache for Lo’s warmth. “This is really about comics?” he questions, disbelieving.

“I…uh…forgot…condoms,” I say, my mind reverting to sex.

“If you’re on the pill and you haven’t fucked anyone else, we should be fine.”

I nod quickly. “Can I have my hands back?”

“No.” He rubs his fingers on the outside of my panties, not pushing in. I shake beneath him. “So when he returns,” Lo says, “are you going to kick him out?”

“What?” He stops the friction between my legs. No, no, no. “Lo…”

“I want to know if he’s really here for comics, Lily. Is that the last time we’re going to see him?”

I bite my lip, and he sees straight through me.

“What’d you do?” he breathes, his hands tightening on my wrists. The pressure feels better than it should.

Telling the truth will be a defeat I do not want to claim just yet. So I think on my toes. “He wants to write an article about us…about what it’s like to be the children of consumer moguls. And I said yes because I owed him, and I knew…I knew you wouldn’t agree because he has to follow us around. So I thought the Comic-Con lie would help introduce him to you…”

Lo stares at me with cold, narrowed eyes, and he drops my hands, taking four steps back from me. “He has to follow us around?”

I nod. “I’m sorry. I should have asked you—”

“You know why I would have said no?” He points to his chest. “I hate having to hide alcohol. You don’t get it because sex is something we do in private.”

I frown. “Like you mauling me in front of Ryke? That was private?”

Lo shakes his head. “The most he’ll think is that I’m a horny guy, Lil. He won’t connect that you’re a sex addict. And I don’t need him fucking writing about our problems in a published article for my father to see.”

“It’s for a class grade,” I lie. The article doesn’t even exist! But it’s the best excuse I have to validate Ryke hanging around us. “He won’t publish it.”

“And you believed him when he told you that? It’s bullshit.”

“It’s not!” I refute, my eyes welling with tears. I’ve never tried this hard to guide him towards a good place, and it’s breaking me apart inside. “ImsorryImsorryImsorry,” I slur.

His face shatters and he closes the space between us. “Hey…” His voice softens. He holds my cheeks and wipes the tears with his thumb. “We can tell him that we’re not interested anymore.”

I shake my head and choke on a sob. “No…” Why can’t this be easier? I want to be able to tell Lo to stop, but he won’t. No matter what I say, he’ll keep drinking. This feels like my only option.

“Why not?”

“I promised,” I say. “Please…let me…let me keep it.” These emotions need to end. I start to drown in them, and so I focus on things that always make me feel better. I kiss him lightly on the lips.

He kisses back. And then his lips leave mine. He has a hand on the back of my head, and he stares at me like we should talk more, but I’d rather do other things.

I unbutton his jeans.

“Lily…” he says, very softly.

I unzip and yank them down. “Don’t speak.” I’m about to drop to my knees, but he grabs my elbow.

“Lily…” His amber eyes glass over. Is he about to tell me to stop?

I frown in confusion. “What?”

After a long moment, he whispers, “Nothing.” He releases his hold, and I watch his cheeks sharpen to ice. My knees hit the floorboards, and I pull down his boxer-briefs in a systematic routine. He keeps his hand on the back of my head, and I try to forget the sadness in his eyes, the kind that can call on silent tears.

I try to remember the passion, the fire, and for this moment, I make sure to drown him in pleasure.