Kiss the Sky (44 page)

But he’s a masochist; I swear he does things he knows will
hurt him in the end.

We all stare at his finished tattoo. A phoenix with wings in
shades of red, orange and yellow engulfs his right shoulder and chest, the feet
near his abs. A gray and black chain is wrapped around the ankles of the bird,
and it descends down his side, an anchor inked at his hip.

Lo shakes his head. “At least you didn’t get a tribal
tattoo.”

“Fuck off,”
Ryke
says. He
stretches an arm behind his head and ignores our stares and the three cameras.

I tilt my head. “You did make sure the needle was wrapped
and sterile?”

“I’m not a fucking
idiot.”

“Well, when you say it like that, I believe you more,” I
deadpan.

“I think it’s hot,” Daisy chimes in. She grins impishly
while everyone (except me) groans. “What?” she laughs.

“That’s my brother, and you’re like my little sister,” Lo
says with a disgusted look. “Just,
no
.”

Ryke’s
jaw hardens, not saying a
word. He just grabs his shirt off the floor and puts it back on.

“Thanks for that strip tease,
bro
,” Lo says.

Ryke
shoots him the middle finger.

But I watch his eyes meet Daisy. Her bright grin has already
completely vanished. I didn’t catch the moment when the humor left her, but
maybe
Lo’s
comment did the trick.

Ryke
and Daisy stare at each other
for a long moment that’s filled with words I can’t hear and things I can’t
read. I almost look away, irritated by this lack of knowledge.

Then Daisy mouths,
Sorry
,
to
Ryke
.

“Just don’t hit my arm, okay?” he tells her. “It still
fucking hurts.”

Her lips slowly rise.

“I know how to defend myself,” Lily suddenly makes a giant
proclamation. She’s been in
Lo’s
arms, but she steps
out and raises her hand at him, giving him the Vulcan salute from Star Trek.
When we went to a comic book convention, Rose didn’t know what it was named,
and Lo chastised her when she called it the “Spock thing.”

While Lily continues to part her fingers in a V shape, Lo
looks at Lily like he wants to kiss her and block the rest of us out.

No one says a thing, we have our brows raised, standing
still like
what the hell?

“See,” Lily says. “Everyone’s too confused to attack.”

And then Lo playfully grabs her wrist. He leans down and
sticks his tongue through the gap between her fingers, making a crude gesture.
With her hand and his mouth.

The cameras veer off
Ryke
and pin
on Lily and Lo.

Lily gasps and punches him in the shoulder. “You just
desecrated the Vulcan salute!”

He wraps his arms around her hips with a grin. “Yeah? Who
does the Vulcan salute while wearing a
Star
Wars
hat? You ruined it first.” He rubs her head with the furry white cap.
And then she stands on the tips of her toes and kisses him. He grins as he
kisses her back.

“Shall we get started?” I ask. Daisy just came home thirty
minutes ago, and it’s already one in the morning. And she arrived
earlier
than usual.
 

“
Shhh
!” Rose yells, extending her
arm over my chest hysterically, her eyes ablaze as she whips her head from side
to side.

Everyone frowns and goes quiet for a second.
 

What is she…

And then I hear a jiggling sound, like bells clinking
together on her collar. Sadie emerges from the bottom level stairs, not hesitating
to enter the main floor like she owns this part of the house too.

Rose reaches for her pepper spray on the ground, her eyes
narrowed at Sadie like she only has bad intentions.

But the worst reaction comes from Lily, who apparently was
“haunted” by Sadie last week in her bedroom. She said she’d wake up and Sadie
would just be sitting there, watching her sleep. It was so ridiculous that I
started crying in laughter when she told me.

“
Ohmygodohmygod
,” Lily says. I
think I heard her say
demon
once or
twice, but she slurs her words together in a frantic state. She starts running
in circles around the living room, looking for a place to hide, but we pushed
all the couches and chairs against the wall. The space is open for Sadie to
find her.

And my cat lets out a low hiss the longer Lily makes
jarring, spastic movements.

Daisy tries to reach out and collect Sadie in her arms, but
Ryke
pulls her away instantly, drawing Daisy to his chest.
The last time she attempted to grab my cat, Sadie raked her leg, three long
claw marks bled, and her mother had a fit, shouting at me for at least an hour
at a Sunday luncheon. I actually sold Sadie after that, but I came home the
next day and found that Rose and Daisy went out of their way to buy her back.
 

For as much as I like my cat, I care about these women more.

Lily sprints around until she finds a solution. She climbs
on Lo like a monkey, crawling up his back while he struggles to contain his
laughter and keep her from falling. With her furry hat and bugged eyes, she
truly looks like some kind of gangly animal.

“I’ll take her downstairs,” I tell everyone.

“If we can’t protect ourselves from a cat, then what hope is
there left for us?” Daisy says dramatically, a bright, playful smile spreading
back across her face.

“I can defend myself,” Rose refutes, shaking her pepper
spray canister.

“Darling,” I warn her, “we really don’t need a call from
PETA in the morning.”

“Fuck PETA.”

Shit.
“Rose.” I
shake my head at her. This is where we’re different. She can’t hold her tongue
when it matters.

“Someone’s going to throw a bucket of red paint on you after
this episode,” Lo tells her. He has Lily on his shoulders where she seems
content, her legs dangling on his chest. She eyes Sadie who saunters around the
room with too much pride.

Rose looks
slightly
regretful,
and I leave her side to usher Sadie downstairs. “I love animals,” she says
mechanically to make up for it. She smiles icily at the camera, and then adds,
“And if anyone ruins one of my fur coats, I’m going to bill you and then rip
out your goddamn eyeballs. Because you don’t deserve to look at beautiful
clothes,
ever
again.”

I watch Sadie slink down the stairs while everyone laughs. I
smile as I glance over my shoulder, at these people, at my friends.

I wouldn’t want to miss this for Wharton.

I wouldn’t want to miss this for anything.

Right here is where I’m happiest.

[ 43 ]

ROSE CALLOWAY

I stir to a body rocking against me, my eyes
fluttering open in a half-sleep.

I squint at the fuzzy morning light, and my mind starts to
collect my position and what’s happening: the fullness between my thighs, the
hands on either side of my shoulders, the body that hovers above me with
determined thrusts.

I’m still naked from last night’s rough sex, and the collar
is firmly snapped around my neck.

My heart quickens as I meet Connor’s eyes. He watches me
wake completely, making good on my
strange
fantasy that I once spilled. I always imagined I’d be aroused right off the
bat, but it takes a little while to lead me there.

Connor facilitates my needs, rocking slowly to build up
these electric sensations. I grip his biceps that flex with each push inside of
me. It’s one of the few times I’ve had use of my hands during sex. When I
glance down and watch the way he disappears between my legs, I feel myself
start to clench around him.

He bends his head low and kisses me deeply.

I like this.

I can’t believe I like this. But more than that, I can’t
believe he was willing to make it happen. I love him for it.

A layer of sweat glistens on our bodies the longer he
thrusts. His mouth opens as I squeeze my legs around his waist, tightening the
way he fits inside of me.

“Rose…” he groans, his face marbleized in pleasure.

And then he pumps hard, and I turn my head into my pillow and
moan, my toes curling. He slowly pulls out while we both catch our breaths. He
rolls over and lies beside me, our chests rising and falling together, in
unison.

Waking up to a cock thrusting into me—it’s a turn-on that I
can now fully admit to.

I summon my strength to meet his powerful blue gaze again.
He grins, knowing exactly how much I desired this.

“Morning…darling,” he says with his last heavy breath. He
leans over and kisses me once more.

Right as he parts from me, I’m about to tell him how much I
loved it, but loud
thumping
splinters
my thoughts. The sounds come from the wall near our dresser, not behind us.

The
thunk
,
thunk
,
thunk
continues, and then there’s the added moans and
groans. I frown. “Didn’t they have sex last night?” We have thin walls, and I
try to ignore them as best I can.

But there is a perk to having an adjacent room to Lily and
Loren. I know how much sex they’re having, which means I know when Lily is
regressing in her recovery.

Connor swings his legs off the bed. Completely naked, he
walks over to the wall and slams his hand against it. “Hey!” he yells, but even
his screams seem calm and assured. “You two, cool it!”

The humping suddenly ends, only to be replaced by a worse
sound to my ears—Loren
Hale’s
voice. (Though it’s muffled
from the wall.)

“We’re not doing anything!”

“You had sex last night,” Connor says loudly. “Only one time
within a twenty-four-hour period. Remember that?”

Lo and Lily usually only wait twelve hours between fucking,
but they’re trying a new rule and asked us to help enforce it if they get weak.

“Then keep
your
noises down!” Loren yells back. “My girlfriend is a sex addict. She can’t be
hearing you two going at it.”

“I promise to be quiet,” Connor says. He turns back to me,
and we lock eyes. “Next time, you’ll be gagged.”

I narrow my gaze, but my lower body responds much
differently.

Connor just smiles as he disappears into the closet to
change. I don’t move off the bed. I grab my binder from the nightstand and
start working on my daily to-do list. I have to pick out the music for the
wedding today.

1 month
– Mom

One month.

It’s almost here. I need a little more time, but we can’t
push back the date without the media howling with suspicion.

I asked Lily to help last week and she nearly burst into tears.
It’s too close for her.

And the televised event doesn’t help. She confessed she’s
had nightmares about tripping down the aisle and the clip being auto-tuned and
made into a viral video for YouTube.

It’s hard to appease those worries.

Because I can see it happening.

Besides the wedding, I’m swamped with Calloway Couture
inventory. The show has sky-rocketed my line, but this isn’t the first time
I’ve seen a spike in sales. I used to be booked for campaigns, even Fashion
Week at the height of my career. My triumphs have been so up and down. Every
time my line goes in a store, it gets pulled right out. I can’t enjoy this
sudden success, not when I know how fleeting it may be.

There
is no happiness in ambition.

Only
fear of losing it all or belief that it’s never enough.

I
wish I could settle for something less. Connor seems content without his MBA,
but I don’t expect the same outcome if I compromise my dreams.

And
I don’t know how to change what I feel.

“You
okay?”

I
look up from my binder and see him towering close to me. He sits down on the
edge of the bed and tilts the binder in his direction to read my to-do list.

“I’m
just stressed,” I confess. “Too many things to do, not enough hours in the
day.” I wave my hand like I’m brushing off the worries. “You know how it is.”

“I
can help.” He taps the second chore I’ve written down.
Reorder the ugly centerpieces that Mother picked out.
“This looks
like something I’ll ace.”

I
give him a look. “You quit Wharton,” I remind him, “not to help me plan a wedding.
You have a job. Go to work.” I push him off our bed.

His
feet hit the floor and then he snatches the binder from my lap. I give him a
hard stare and he returns it. “Just so we’re on the same page—I quit Wharton to
be with you,” he rephrases. “Not for Cobalt Inc.”

I
tighten my robe around my waist and stand, ignoring his admission. I motion for
my binder, which might as well be my sanity at this point. “Hand it over.”

He
flips open the binder and scans the list once more. “I think…” he muses. “I’ll
take all the wedding responsibilities, and you can have your Calloway Couture
tasks.” He looks up. “Sound fair?”

“No,
Richard. It sounds like your bailing me out of my problems.”

I
reach for the binder and he holds it up over his head. “We’re a couple. I want
to bail you out of as many problems as I can. And I’m not asking for you to
accept my help, Rose. You’ll have it whether you agree to it or not.”

I
cross my arms over my chest. “What if I don’t like your taste?” I argue. “You
could choose even uglier centerpieces than my mother.”

He
raises his eyebrows like I said something truly stupid. I let out a huff and
drop my arms. Fine. He has good taste. His shampoo costs more than mine for
Christ’s sake.