Addicted for Now (Addicted 2)

But her eyes stay glued to Connor.

“Rose,” Connor says with such empathy, gazing at her with passion that nearly stops my heart. “You know me.”

She takes a deep breath. “That’s just it Connor, I don’t think I do. I don’t think anyone really does.”

Sebastian begins to smile, and Connor looks about ready to scream.

Rose adds, “I want you to leave.”

I can’t tell who she directs this to until Sebastian’s smile fades completely. “Rose, didn’t you hear—”

“I heard you,” she says. “I hear you talk badly about Connor every time I’m with you, and while I agree he’s not the most forthcoming human being when it comes to his personal life, he’s still my boyfriend. I would never allow Lily to cheat. I hate that you smoke. And I’m not going to take your suggestion to quit Calloway Couture. I’m going to unpack my office. I’m going to fight for my company. I’m going to do whatever it takes, and I’m going to stop listening to you tell me that I can’t beat these odds.”

Go Rose. I think we’re all smiling. Except for Sebastian.

He shakes his head at her. “I’ll call you tomorrow when you’re not being so bitchy.”

“You won’t,” she says. “I’m blocking your number. You’re not to see me or talk to me. I never want to hear from you again.”

His mouth falls. “You would listen to him? Rose, I’ve known you longer.”

“He knows me better.”

Sebastian just keeps shaking his head.

Rose glances at Connor, her shoulders locked tight. “Can you please get him out of the house? I need to go…” Her eyes flit away, looking for her room as though it’s vanished.

“Of course,” he says easily. His hand falls to the small of her back, and he whispers something in her ear before kissing her deeply. She returns the affection, but there’s sadness in her eyes that wasn’t there before—the stress of everything weighing on her. And I have a feeling Sebastian has added to it every single day.

When they part, Rose turns to me. And my guards rise. Oh no. She’s going to yell at me for cheating. I open my mouth, about to let out a string of sincere apologies, but her arms fling around my shoulders and she pulls me into a big, sisterly hug. One that she rarely gives, even when she’s in a good mood.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers in my ear. “I love you.” I feel her tears on my shoulder. “I’m here if you need me now. I promise.”

I don’t think I deserve this. I ruined her company, but at the same time, I am overwhelmed at having my sister’s support again. She’s my biggest and best cheerleader.

So I hug back. I want to ask if she’ll be okay with all of the Connor and Sebastian stuff, but she places a kiss on my cheek and spins towards her bedroom on the main floor.

Connor watches her carefully, and Rose meets his gaze for a single second, brushing her tears off her face. I think they can read each other’s minds or something because he nods to her and she nods back and disappears.

Connor guides Sebastian towards the exit.

Sebastian’s eyes flicker to the exams on my lap.

“You’re not getting them back,” Connor tells him.

“You know,” Sebastian says, “I hope you break her heart. She deserves what’s coming to her.”

“So do you,” Connor says, slamming the door on Sebastian’s face.

When the tension begins to eke out of the living room, Ryke says, “Well I f**king learned something today.” His lips rise. “Connor has balls.”

Connor takes a breath and any anxiety or anger disappears like the wind, undetectable by the average human eye. “Glad I could entertain you.” His eyes flicker between the hallway where Rose disappeared down and me.

He chooses me, which only puts a larger pit in my stomach. He stands in front of the couch, his hands slipping in his slacks.

“Do you really see me as an apathetic trust fund baby?” I ask, remembering some of the insults that inadvertently flew my way. I have been lazy and uncaring towards college. I should have tried harder.

“Technically you don’t have a trust fund anymore,” Connor tells me. His words don’t lift my spirits, and I don’t deserve a brightened day. I’m at fault here. “You should have told me you were cheating when I asked.”

“I can’t pass without the old exams,” I defend quickly.

“You can,” Connor retorts. “I’ve tutored you, and I know that if you just studied, you could pass.”

“I can’t take that chance. I bombed the first two tests. I’m already behind a semester, and if I fail these classes I’m going to be behind a whole year.” I hold the tests to my chest, unwilling to let them go over Connor’s moral compass. “It’s not cheating. It’s beating the system. Everyone does it.”

“You’ve already beat the system by being at Princeton. By being at Penn. If you didn’t have your last name, you’d be at a community college. Where you should be, Lily. How many times are you going to beat the system until it beats you to death?” His words are weighted and have more double meanings than I can process. “You don’t need an A. You’re going to be fine if you graduate with a low GPA at the bottom of the class. Do yourself a favor. Toss out those tests, and I’ll help you take your finals. I’ll make sure you learn the material to pass. I promise.”

“I have to turn them in by six o’clock today,” I say. “That’s not possible, Connor.”

“They’re take-home tests,” he reminds me. “You’re allowed to use your notes and your book. Just not old exams. We can make it happen.”

“We can all help,” Daisy exclaims with a smile. “I have the recipe for the perfect study brownies.”

Ryke gives her a look.

“Not those kind of brownies.”

The undertaking feels bigger than me, but I have support. “You should go talk to Rose,” I tell him. I don’t want to draw him away from her more than I already have.

“She’ll want to be alone right now,” he says. I’m not so sure about that, but he adds, “Trust me.” And for some reason, I do. Maybe Sebastian is right. Maybe Connor does have power in his words.

An hour later, I’ve finished a political science final and moved onto Stats. A tray of warm, gooey brownies emits a sweet chocolate aroma in front of me. I’m basically eating the entire plate. Daisy flips through her motorcycle magazine, not touching a single one.

Ryke left thirty minutes ago, before the brownies were pulled out of the oven. And I suspect if he was here, he would have prodded Daisy until she at least tasted a chunk.

I should be one-hundred percent focused on my test, but Lo went upstairs not too long ago. He never said a word about his phone call or my tests. He just disappeared.

I hurry through my Stats exam, unconsciously remembering some of the answers from when I previously bubbled them in with Sebastian. I finish in the next fifteen minutes, guessing on the last two. The book was helpful, but Connor’s notes were better. He sat beside me and scribbled down examples that made the harder questions a lot easier.

I can’t stop thinking about Lo. Upstairs. He only isolates himself when he’s drinking, and since he’s sober, I’m not quite sure what alone time for Loren Hale really entails. I worry all the same.

“Can I take a five minute break?” I ask Connor by my side. “I have to go talk to Lo.”

He checks his watch, calculating how long it will take me to finish in time to turn the exams in. “You have ten minutes before I’m coming to collect you. So please don’t let me walk in on you and Lo fornicating.”

Fornicating. I smile. It’s such a fancy word for f**king. “We won’t.”

I dash upstairs to my bedroom, stopping at the door for a second. I hesitate to walk inside. Maybe he wants to be alone, like really alone. The thought stabs me cold, and I lower my hand from the knob. Is he slowly breaking away from me? Is that it?

My shoulders rise.

I won’t let him go so easily.

I open the door and brace myself for what’s to come.

Lo sits at the desk, scrolling through different websites on the computer. His back to me, I see him analyzing a business site. When I shut the door, he swivels in his chair and makes note that it’s just me before he returns to his laptop.

The casual brush-off stings.

Before our fight, he would have asked me for help. He would have gushed about all of his ideas. I’ve been his friend in everything for years, and all of a sudden, I’ve become as useful as the dust on a windowsill.

“Shouldn’t you be taking your finals?” he asks.

“I’m on a break,” I say, sinking onto the bed.

He focuses on the computer screen.

Is he growing without me? My worst fear may be starting to come true. He’s strong, committed and sober. I’m unhealthy and struggling in my addiction. My weakness is too much for him. I’m pulling him down. I’m a weight.

And I’m losing him. Just like I lost everything else.

“Lo,” I try to keep my voice steady.

He faces me this time, concern etching his brow.

I open my mouth, a pain in my heart. “Do you want to break up with me?”

“What?” he chokes.

“It’s just…we’ve never fought for so long before, and I can’t tell what you’re thinking anymore.” My insecurities gush like a busted piñata, and I desperately wish to gather all the candy and stuff it back inside.

“Lil,” he breathes, standing. He comes to me and takes my cheeks in his hands, staring down. “Don’t ever ask me that again.” His voice is soft but still sharp.

“I wouldn’t blame you,” I say, twisting his T-shirt in my hand. “I mean, I would try to stop you, but I would understand. You’re strong and I’m...” a mess.

He brushes my fallen tears with his thumb. “I had rehab,” he reminds me. “I had lots of help, Lil. Your addiction is much different, and there’s less support there. I knew I’d be strong and you’d be struggling. It’s just the way it is. I’m prepared for this. I won’t leave. I won’t ever f**king leave.”

I’m about to go in for a hug, and he withdraws. “But that doesn’t give you the right to fall into your old habits. Okay?”

“I know. I know.” I fiddle with my fingers. “Are we still fighting? I mean, I get it if you still want to be in a fight. But I’m sorry. I’m really sorry I let you down.” That’s not completely right. I think after today, especially my conversation with Connor, I know who I’m disappointing the most. “I’m sorry I let myself down.”

His lips rise just a little. “I accept that apology.”

He lifts me into a hug, and I promise myself that I’ll try harder. Even if everything starts slipping away again, I’ll remember this moment, how long it took me to right what I had done wrong. I don’t want to start that vicious cycle again. I want to break it. I want to beat my addiction for good, no matter if outside forces pull me down.