Becca Ritchie - Kiss the Sky

“What do you think?” Ryke asks Julian.

Julian shrugs, hardly affected by Ryke’s hardcore glare. “What do I think about what?”

No one elaborates because there’s nothing to elaborate on.

“You’re not sleeping in her room,” Lo warns.

Julian swishes his beer in a brief moment of contemplation (not long enough apparently) because he stupidly says, “I’ve already slept in the same bed as her before. I don’t see the big deal.”

Lo lets out a short laugh like is this guy for real? “You don’t see the big deal?” He steps forward. “Let me spell it out for you Julius—”

“Julian—” he barely has time to correct him.

“You’re twenty-fucking-three,” Lo says, not missing a beat. “How old are you, Connor?”

“Twenty-four.”

Lo turns to Ryke and mockingly tilts his head. “What about you, Ryke?”

“Twenty-three,” Ryke says.

Lo touches his chest. “I’m twenty-two myself.”

“That’s great,” Julian says a little dumbfounded as to what’s going on. Just wait, Julian. He’s getting there.

“I consider myself fairly smart,” Lo says, “but you must be a real fucking idiot if you think we’d be okay with someone our age sleeping with our girlfriends’ seventeen-year-old little sister.”

Julian’s not even intelligent enough to catch the obvious flaw in Lo’s statement—that Ryke doesn’t even have a girlfriend in this scenario.

He shrugs, still not seeing the issue. “She’s a model, man. We’ve spent nights at our friends’ flats in New York City together. She’s snorted coke before. I think she’s past the overprotective brother routine. Maybe if you haven’t noticed, she’s pretty mature.”

Lo grits his teeth and turns his head to me. “Can you believe this guy?”

I can believe he’s a moron, yes. But his argument is valid. It doesn’t mean I think he should be spending the night in Daisy’s bed. I’m not even sure she wants that. “You’re sleeping on the couch,” I tell him calmly.

He just shakes his head with a pouty lip, not even considering it. “No, I’m not.”

“I’m seriously going to kick his fucking ass,” Ryke says to us.

“I’m standing right here, man,” Julian retorts. “What’s your deal?”

“You’re twenty-three,” Ryke snaps, “and you’re fucking a girl who’s seventeen.”

“We’re not fucking. And aren’t you the one on Princesses of Philly who’s always around Daisy?” His eyebrows rise in accusation. “Maybe you’re the one fucking her. Or maybe you’re just jealous. Yeah, that’s probably it.”

Before Ryke has the chance to lunge, Lo steps in front of his body, blocking him from Daisy’s boyfriend.

“Julius,” Lo says, purposefully using his name wrong now that he knows it irritates him, “maybe you’re feeling a little goddamn disgusting being with a seventeen-year-old. Keep your shitty feelings to yourself. Don’t project them onto my brother.”

“I’m not projecting anything. Have you see the way he looks at her? He wishes he was me right now.”

Lo would normally have a snide retort ready, but he’s busy restraining Ryke who tries to charge forward, probably to sock Julian in the face. Lo rests his arm against his brother’s chest, forcing him back.

Ryke stares disgustedly at Daisy’s boyfriend, and the guy just leisurely sips his beer. But I sense an antagonizing quality in Julian’s fixed stance, in the way he watches Ryke with a hawkeyed gaze. He’s the type of guy who’d love to fight him—just to prove he’s the bigger fucking man. Ryke, on the other hand, just wants to protect that girl inside. It’s an interesting dynamic. One that I’d almost love to witness, but stirring that shit just gives Scott what he wants. And I’d rather smash in his face than help grow his ingratiating smile.

“We all win some,” Julian says to Ryke, “and we all lose some. You’ll find another girl who’s a better fit for you. Though she won’t be as hot as Daisy, and there’s no way she’ll lick cock as well either.”

Lo’s jaw unhinges.

Ryke almost loses it. He shouts a string of curses at the top of his lungs. I catch motherfucker, cocksucker, and a new one—dickfucker. I would laugh, but I want to throw Julian off the porch just as badly—I just don’t express myself with such vehement aggression.

Veins pop in Ryke’s neck, his face reddening as he shouts and points at Julian, who starts to scream back.

“You don’t know shit about that girl!” Ryke yells.

“And you do, right?!”

“Fuck you!” is Ryke’s only response.

This has turned into a moron battle. Fists would be more appropriate right now. But the only thing keeping Ryke from laying into Julian is Loren who stands between them, a human barrier.

I don’t even try to calm him down. A deep part of me just wants Ryke to hit him.

“Sorry, man,” Julian taunts as their voices lower. “You should have started dating her a year ago when she was single. You can have her when I’m done.”

A foul taste rises in my mouth.

Lo glares at Julian like the world shifted without his consent. “What the fuck did you just say?”

Ryke wears pure darkness in his eyes, nothing else. His muscles flex the longer he has to withstand this guy.

“He can have her when I’m done,” Julian repeats. “I can give you the exact date. I’ll need about three hours on February 20^th of next year. Then you can have her. Mark your calendar.”

February 20^th. Her eighteenth birthday.

And right as Lo is about to move out of the way and unleash his pissed off brother, the backdoor opens. Lily steps outside, wearing Rose’s black fur coat that swallows her skinny frame. Everyone stays tense, but no one makes a move to hit Julian in front of her.

“Hey, guys.” She shuffles to our group as we go silent. She notices the strain between the guys, and she quickly slides in the middle of Lo and Julian to try to diminish the prospect of a fight.

The girls are clever.

“Rose and Daisy want to play a game.” She tucks her hair behind her ear. “A drinking game though.”

Ryke peels his gaze off Julian and stares down at her. “The three of us don’t fucking drink, so how does that work?” He gestures to Lily and Lo.

Lily shrugs. “I think we should participate somehow. It’ll be fun.”

I chime in, “You three can play the strip version.”

Lo lets out a short laugh. “Always trying to get me naked.”

My lips rise.

“Oh, and Rose wants to talk to you,” Lily nods to Julian.

“Great,” Julian says with added sarcasm. He even rolls his eyes, probably wishing he stayed home. He leaves our group and Ryke loses his chance to lay a fist into him.

Lo watches Julian disappear inside. “That was the first time I didn’t warn a guy to protect his balls before talking to Rose.”

“That’s because we all hope she crushes them,” Ryke says roughly.

I remember how delicately she held my cock for the first time, and I try my best to hide my smile into my next sip of wine.

I know her better than anyone.

We’ve switched games three times to help Lily, but she’s still losing. Luckily before we started she layered on clothes in her bedroom, waddling out like a little snowman. She even stuck my bobby pins in her hair and has been throwing them off as a “clothing” item.

She’s down to a sweater and pajama pants without any accessory to fling off, and Scott refuses to switch to another game this time.

I’m a little tipsy, but nothing like Daisy who stumbles around the kitchen trying to find a bag of marshmallows for the fireplace.

“She’s going to hurt herself,” I say, but when I stand to help, everything spins. Okay, I’ve definitely surpassed tipsy. I plop right back down on the couch and try to recover. Maybe no one noticed.

“You okay, Rose?” Loren asks with a knowing look.

Connor combs his fingers through my hair, which feels so damn good that I forget to snap back at Lily’s boyfriend.

“Hey, stay away from the fucking knives!” Ryke yells angrily as Daisy clatters around. He’s about to shoot up from the couch opposite of us, but Julian, her real boyfriend, beats him to it, sauntering into the kitchen.

After I lectured Julian about statutory rape and sodomy, he’s been pretty much exactly the same: dismissive and lackadaisical. It’s really fucking annoying. I tried to capitalize on cutting off his balls during our talk, and he just shrugged at me. I swear he was seconds from patting my head like I was a little girl.

Connor saved him from the wrath of my purse. I could have hit him over the head with it. But Connor drew me away and distracted me with a promise of something new tonight in bed. Although he never specified what new entailed. So I’m left to guess.

Connor’s hand falls to my neck, and he rubs the bareness of my skin with his finger and thumb. I lean into him, snubbing the couch cushion which was warm from my back. But he feels much better, my buzz tingling my body.

Scott refills everyone’s empty shots that line a log coffee table. A bear-fur rug covers the hardwood, and flannel blankets drape over the chilly brown leather furniture. Ryke keeps stoking the fire so no one grows cold. It’s nice. All of us here. Even Savannah and Ben have relaxed in the kitchen with drinks while Brett singlehandedly films our game.

I hiccup and touch my lips. I think the last game we played was designed to get us wasted. Only problem is that Daisy and I weigh less than the guys playing. Ergo, we are getting fucked up faster. The game we’ve chosen now, Never Have I Ever, targets the most experienced person in the room, which means Lily is at a serious disadvantage. I should be winning, but Lily and Loren use phrases like “Never have I ever made an A on a math test.”

I turn to my less-than-tipsy boyfriend. Despite how much wine he consumes, he never gets drunk. “How many shots have you taken?”

“Less than you.” Translation: He’s winning.

“Who’s next?” Scott asks. He’s been the game pusher all night. I think he has his eyes set on Lily, trying to get her naked or nearly naked in front of everyone. She sits on Loren’s lap, looking petrified to continue a game without another bobby pin to remove.

“I’m next,” Ryke says, watching with a hard gaze as Julian guides Daisy into the living room.

Julian has his hands on her hips, whispering in her ear and forcing her back towards his chest. Even drunk, she looks mildly uncomfortable to be in his arms while in our presence. And it shows as she squirms out of his hold. She smiles at him and places a chaste kiss on his cheek to make up for it.

He doesn’t let her off the hook. He literally grabs her face in two hands and plunges his tongue in her mouth.

“Hey, Julius, sit the fuck down,” Loren snaps. Thank you, Loren.

I don’t ask why Loren just mispronounced Julian’s name. Everyone knows Lo’s favorite comic book character is Julian Keller from X-Men, and Lo has declared (to the entire townhouse) that Daisy’s boyfriend doesn’t deserve to share the same name as him.

Daisy puts her hands on Julian’s chest and breaks apart from him. Then she settles in her seat beside Ryke, Julian slouching on the other side of her. She sits up on the edge of the cushion so he can’t wrap his arm around her shoulder.

Connor’s lips brush my ear. “She’s okay. Lo and Ryke have an eye on him.”

I nod, realizing that I can’t fixate on my little sister all night, even though I see how much she just wants to push Julian into the snow and leave him there. But she’s not rude enough to do that.

I most definitely would.

“Ryke,” Scott urges. “Go.”

Ryke scratches his jaw. “Never have I ever…faked an orgasm.”

“That’s just mean,” Daisy says, reaching for a full shot.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have done it then,” he retorts.

“And hurt the guy’s feelings?”

Scott motions from the shots to me and I shake my head. I’ve had no reason to fake an orgasm with Connor. And he’s the only guy I’ve ever been with.

Connor holds me closer, and he leans forward and grabs the shot. I glare at him as he brings it to his lips. “Not with you,” he tells me. I’m not even sure how a guy can fake an orgasm, but he’s creative enough that I wouldn’t doubt him doing it for personal gain.

“That’s what they all say,” Scott adds like a five-year-old.

Ugh. His interjection immediately makes me side with Connor, believing my boyfriend more.