Becca Ritchie - Hothouse Flower

There’s a long pause before she asks, “How is she doing?”

I glance at Daisy who rocks on her feet, antsy as she stands in one place for so long. Her bandaged cheek is on the other side. The only marks visible are the bruises beneath her eyes. I remember her smile as she came, her laugh and the genuine happiness that blanketed over her. I wish this bad fucking thing didn’t have to happen for her to make these hard decisions about modeling, but I am glad she’s finally made them.

“She’s going to be okay,” I tell Lily. “She looks good.” She looks fucking beautiful.

“Thank you, for what you did,” Lily says. “We all appreciate it, you know.”

I don’t pick my words that carefully. I just fucking say them. “I’d do anything for her.”

“Is it different this time?” she asks me.

“What do you mean?”

“In Cancun a couple years ago, you kind of saved Daisy back then too. I just wondered if you feel differently now.” What is she getting at?

“Say it fucking bluntly or don’t say it at all.”

She sighs. “Why do you have to be so mean?”

“I didn’t think I was,” I snap.

“Do you like her more now than you did then?” she says straight out.

“She was only sixteen back then,” I tell her. “I didn’t hang out with her that much.” The truth is way more complicated than that.

“Just say it bluntly or don’t say it at all,” Lily rebuts, with ten times less force than me.

I almost smile. “She means a fucking lot to me, Calloway.” It’s still not much better but it seems to appease Lily.

“Have you told this to Lo?” she asks.

“What would it fucking matter? He sees what he wants to see.” I’m the intruder, the fucking guy he opened his arms to, the guy he let in his life. If I stick my cock anywhere near Daisy, he will be affronted as though I fucked with his family, his friends, his world.

“He sees what you give him,” Lily says softly, “and you’re not giving him a lot to work with, Ryke.”

I run my hand through my hair and sigh. I’m so fucking scared to open up about my history with my own brother. That’s the fucking truth. I did wrong by him for so long, and if I start talking about it, I feel like I’ll just push him away more. I’ll give him no reason to be close to me. I have years of hate underneath my belt, no fucking love.

So why express that? What fucking good will that do?

I just want to forget it all and move on.

Daisy reaches the front of the line.

“I have to go,” I tell Lily.

“Was she happy that she’s able to go with you guys to California?” she asks before we hang up.

“Yeah,” I say, my chest rising with the fucking fact. “I’ll keep her safe.”

“You be safe,” Lily emphasizes. “You’re the one climbing. I’m packing a first-aid kit, just in case you fall, so you know.”

“Your fucking Band-Aid isn’t going to save me.”

“Wolverine is printed on the front. He can save anyone.”

I roll my eyes for the fifth time it feels like. “Let’s just hope we all make it there in one piece.”

Daisy starts walking over to me.

“Gotta go.”

“Bye.” We hang up, and I slide my arm over Daisy’s shoulder and carry her duffel. Mikey is going to stay in France for another two weeks as vacation, hopefully distracting the paparazzi and leading them off our trail. For the first time in a while, we should be free of the media.

“You ready for a fucking adventure, sweetheart?” I ask her.

She hugs me close and says, “Does this adventure contain cupcakes, Ryke Meadows and motorcycles?”

“Substitute the last one for a fucking rental car.”

She smiles. “I’m ready for this awfully big adventure then.” She pauses and adds, “With you.”

I kiss her temple.

30 days until Yosemite.

The fucking countdown begins.

RYKE MEADOWS

Seven days into the road trip, and I’m already fighting with my brother.

“Do you know how fucking inappropriate you are?” Lo is half-turned around in the front seat of the SUV, his jaw clenching as he lays into me. The surprising fucking bit of all this: it’s not even about Daisy.

It’s about Lily.

His fucking fiancée.

“I’m pretty fucking inappropriate,” I admit with a shrug. “I thought we all already knew that. So why are you hounding me about this?”

Lo gives me a look like are you serious? “You can’t talk about that shit with her. She’s a fucking sex addict.”

Connor’s eyes flicker to me in the rearview mirror, his hands tight on the steering wheel. Whether he sides with Lo or me, he doesn’t let on. Daisy twists her hair into a long braid beside me.

I groan loudly. “She’s so embarrassed to talk about sex. I was doing her a fucking favor, and secondly, I don’t know why you’re yelling at me now. This conversation happened months ago.” Thanks, Lil, for bringing it up right now. When I’m in a confined space for fucking hours with my brother.

Lily and I talk often, but I don’t remember how we arrived onto the topic about public sex, maybe because she mentioned how she missed it. It’s one of her restrictions now that she’s in recovery. I was sitting on their couch, waiting for Lo to change for the gym, and I asked her all the places she’s done it.

Her face flushed red and she stumbled for answers. I thought it’d make her more comfortable if I listed my sexual fucking adventures.

Beaches.

Bathrooms.

Golf courses.

Woods.

Parking lots.

Elevators.

Parks.

Malls.

Gym locker rooms.

The list really just goes on and fucking on. I like screwing everywhere, especially outside. Lily started to open up a little bit. It wasn’t my fucking intention to share our sexual exploits with each other, but I just wanted to make her feel less ashamed about her sex life. So fuck me.

She told me she had sex with Lo in a movie theatre once. And how she did it at an amusement park when she was eighteen, on the fucking Ferris wheel.

My first thought:  I have to give her some credit for that one. It sounded fucking fun.

And then she told me it was with a random guy she met at the cotton candy booth.

My insides kind of twisted. For her. For my brother. I wish she could have just enjoyed sex like me, but instead it was something else entirely for her. Something darker.

“I appreciate you trying to make her comfortable,” Lo says in a way that sounds like he really doesn’t appreciate it. “But for Christ’s sake, she’s texting me to clarify public sex to her.” He shakes his head and looks down at his phone and reads her text. “Is tent sex considered public sex, if the tent is owned by us? Because some people live in tents. Therefore that would be a house, and a house isn’t public, it’s private. Therefore, tent sex is private sex.”

Connor tries really hard not to make a sound (at least I think he does) but he ends up bursting into laughter.

“I know,” Lo says. “It’s insane. It’s like reading a text from someone trying to convince you that cocaine isn’t a drug.”

“And how do you know this is my fucking fault?”

Lo raises his brows. “Because I told her that it’s public sex and she immediately responded with: Ryke has a lot of public sex. Maybe he’s a sex addict.” He looks up to me. “And then we had a long fucking talk about the conversation you had with her.”

Daisy eyes me with a grin. “You like public sex? Like in grocery stores?”

“Yeah, right in front of the fucking cantaloupes and produce,” I deadpan.

“I prefer to do it in front of the baking goods. Chocolates chips. Cake mix.” Her smile grows.

Lo looks between us. “No,” he says sharply. “Don’t even go there.” His eyes land on Daisy. “And don’t have sex in public. It’s fucking gross.”

“Hey,” I cut in. “Let her do what she wants.”

“Yeah, sure, get arrested, Dais,” Lo tells her. “Or better yet, screw in a grocery store and then some cashier will be peeking in from the aisle over and film you on his cellphone. Great story to tell the world.”

I expect another sarcastic comment from her, but instead, her face turns serious. “Do you think it’s gross that Lily has had public sex?”

Lo’s face contorts and he starts shaking his head. “Of course not. She’s not gross.”

“But it’d be gross for me,” Daisy says, touching her chest. Confusion wrinkles her forehead.

I glower at Lo. He did just say that.

“That’s not what I meant,” Lo says, cringing. “You’re just…you’re you, Dais. You’re young.”

“Lily had sex on a Ferris wheel when she was eighteen,” I refute coldly. “Don’t make this into an age thing. Say the fucking truth, Lo. It’d be gross for you to think about Daisy having sex. It doesn’t matter where the fuck it is.”

“It’s okay, guys,” Daisy says quickly, “I’m sorry I brought it up.” She slides over to the window, her face sinking in guilt at stirring more confrontation between my brother and me. But honestly, anything she fucking says is going to rile Lo. It’s just the way he is.

Lo gives me a long stare. “Just be more careful with Lil next time. You, ranting and raving, about losing your fucking virginity on a golf course is not going to help. She’s going to want to try it, and I have to tell her no.”

“You can’t even do it outside the bedroom once? I thought she was getting better,” I say.

“She can’t ask for it,” Lo tells me. “And she’s starting to fucking ask. You see the cycle here?”

“Yeah.” He’s not getting laid. But I know it’s more than that. He worries about her. He always has.

“Who locked the windows?” Daisy suddenly asks

I glance over and see her flicking the button on the door handle, nothing happens. Dais cannot sit still for longer than thirty fucking minutes. Put her in an SUV for an hour, and she’ll stick her head, arm, legs and eventually her whole body out of the window. Lo had to drag her back onto the leather seat three or four times already.

I slide next to her.

“I did,” Connor says. “I’m not getting my first ticket because Ryke won’t restrain his puppy.”

“Hey,” Lo interjects. I frown. He’s going to stick up for me? “Don’t be calling Daisy his anything.”

I roll my eyes. “Just unlock the fucking window, Connor.”

“No, it’s cool,” Daisy says, scooting closer to me. “I don’t want to get anyone in trouble.” She tucks her long blonde hair behind her ear, and her leg brushes against mine. Her bruises are gone, and this morning, she had her stitches removed by a doctor in Ohio. The gash along her cheek is closed but reddened.

Still, it looks ten times better than it did. I untie her hair that’s in a bun, and I playfully mess the strands. They lie tangled on her head, frizzy like she rolled out of bed or ran through the woods.

She tenses as she watches me look her over closely. I act the same in front of Daisy as I did before we got together—which means my brother shoots me a warning glare every half hour for overstepping and walking a thin line.

“Do you like my hair long?” she asks me.

“No because I can tell you fucking hate it.” I wonder if she was waiting for my opinion before she grabbed a scissors. I thought cutting her hair would be one of her first spontaneous acts after she quit modeling.

“Then why do you always untie my hair when I put it up?”

I’m going to have to fucking generalize because my brother is in the front seat. So I say, “I like when girls have messy hair.”

“Like ‘we just fucked’ messy?”

She went there anyway. I try hard not to smile.

“Daisy,” Lo interjects with a grimace. “Don’t say that to my brother.”

 “You’re right,” she says to Lo. “The f-word is a bit abrasive.” She tilts her head at me. “How about ‘we just had sex’ messy?”

Lo shakes his head a couple times, puts on headphones and balls his sweatshirt in the corner of the door. “Wake me up when you stop flirting with a guy seven years older than you. It’s disgusting.”

Her smile fades.

I love Lo, but he can be a real fucking asshole.

Connor stays quiet, concentrating on driving, and I take the opportunity to cheer up Daisy. I grab her waist and set her between my open legs. The surprise causes her to smile again, and I slip one hand beneath her shirt, rubbing her back while I massage her shoulder with the other.