Fuel the Fire (Calloway Sisters 3)

I’m not allowed to manipulate my therapist, even when it’s incredibly enticing, according to his rules. I respect that, but it doesn’t mean I haven’t tried to go around it. We’ll talk later. I send the message and he replies even faster.

Monday. – Frederick

I pocket my cell just as Lily approaches the wall. Daisy has already descended and gives her sister an encouraging thumbs-up. Lily spins around, walking backwards and points a threatening finger at all of us. It’s mild in comparison to the ones I’m used to. “Don’t laugh at me. I have very poor upper body strength.”

“No one’s going to fucking laugh at you,” Ryke tells her.

She takes a deep breath and hoists herself up to the first rock, grabbing onto it. Her shoes fit onto the one about two feet off the ground. It’s the next move that proves difficult. She has to use her upper body to lift herself higher. She struggles, her fingertips pinched over the new rock, but her shoe is too far from the purple foothold. Each time she tries to lift herself, she barely rises a couple inches.

After four failed attempts, Lo walks over and puts his hands on her ass and pushes her up with complete ease.

“LoOhmygod,” she slurs, louder than she probably intended. But it works. She reaches the higher rock, her foot now supported and her body another two feet from the floor.

Lo can’t help her anymore.

“Uhhh…” Lily looks around, eyes wide, knowing she can’t make it past this point. Her legs begin to quake with her arms, and I remember that she’s afraid of heights.

Brrrrring! A ringing noise emits from Daisy’s cell. She holds it up. “Congrats, you rung the bell, Lil!” she calls out to her.

Lily blows out a breath of relief. “Okay…now how do I get down?”

“Just like Daisy did,” Ryke explains. “Jump and I’ll support your weight.”

“You’re only four feet off the ground,” I remind her. “That’s shorter than your husband if you need reference.”

“She knows what four feet looks like, Richard,” Rose says from the bench.

“And I promise it looks higher from up here,” Lily says, taking another breath. She closes her eyes and jumps backwards. When she lands on the ground, she dramatically falls to her knees and kisses the padding.

We all stare at her as she rises to her feet.

Her elbows flush. “I’ve always wanted to do that,” she says with a nod before running into Lo’s arms. He embraces her without question, his hands even lowering to her bottom, and he squeezes like no one is watching.

We spend the next half hour taking turns on the wall. Daisy wants to race up it so I time her on my watch. Rose even comes over to see me climb. Normally, I’d give her a hard time about staring at my ass, but she’s been alternating between washing her hands with sanitizer and rubbing her hair.

When we finish, Daisy and Lily flock to their older sister, noticing her distress. I’d like to talk to her alone, but Rose enjoys being in the company of her sisters, so I don’t steal time from them.

Daisy nudges Rose’s hip with hers. “Hey, wanna trade phones?”

“Dais,” Ryke calls out to her with caution in his voice.

“I don’t want to see the dick pics you’ve sent my sister, so don’t have a coronary,” Rose interjects, combing her fingers anxiously through her pony.

“Fucking hilarious,” he says under his breath.

The three girls walk towards the locker rooms out of earshot, and Lo, Ryke, and I stay behind to gather the equipment.

[ 9 ]

CONNOR COBALT

As the girls leave the main area by the rock wall, I study Ryke’s uneasy expression, and my brow arches.

He gives me a side-eye. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“You sext?” I ask. Rose was joking before, but it could be a valid theory.

“She’s my fucking girlfriend.” He throws the sixth harness onto a pile and hands me one of the long ropes to roll.

I just can’t imagine his dirty messages any more than he can probably imagine my text conversations with Rose.

Lo leans against the wall beside us, making no effort to help. “People can hack into that shit, you know.”

“It’s not like I’ve sent full-frontal nudes.”

I chime in, “That statement implies that you’ve sent nudes before.”

Ryke runs his hands through his hair. “No one fucking asked you to insert yourself in this conversation, Cobalt.”

I can’t even take offense to the weak rebuttal. First off, I technically started the conversation by asking him if he sexts. And secondly, his relationship with Lo never makes me feel inferior or jealous. I never weigh meaningful relationships against each other the way Ryke does. I weigh profit and benefits.

“Those of us with IQs in the .01 percentile have an invitation to all conversations,” I tell him. “I know you’re not privy to this, so don’t be upset. There are geniuses. There are rational people. There are idiots. And then there’s you.”

Ryke lets out a laugh beneath his breath. “I’d like to know how you weren’t beat to shit in prep school.” Before I respond, he adds, “And I’m being serious this time. If you said that where I went to school, guys would’ve gotten in your face.” Misplaced concern begins to wash his features. It may be the first time he’s questioned this part of my past.

I start winding the rope around my arm to avoid tangling. Lo scratches his neck, standing off the rock wall and nearing his brother’s side. They now face me.

This is new.

“Ryke and I were talking the other day…” Lo searches for the right words but has to turn to his older brother to finish. That’s rare too.

I frown.

“You were barely fucking hurt in the Paris riot,” Ryke says. “Why?”

Lo adds, “I saw you duck punches like it was nothing.”

Unlike Ryke, I have no problem explaining the deeper parts of my history. He becomes brick-walled the further anyone digs into his past, but I only shutdown if it costs my reputation or if someone is searching for an emotional response from me. Facts are easy. Simple.

I tie off the rope and throw it into a basket with the others. “I’m very flattered by your concern for me, but I was never bullied. I was”—I can’t restrain my grin—“well-liked by most at Faust and hated by almost no one. I needed some people, and so I was painstakingly nice to them. I’d never speak to certain guys the way that I speak to both of you.”

“Thanks for that,” Ryke mutters, but his shoulders a

re more relaxed. He was worried that my past was as tortured as his little brother’s. It’s not. Lo had more against him than I ever did. He believed he was worthless because his father told him that every day, and he had to find his self-confidence that had been ripped from him.

I never lost mine.

I look between them: Ryke with his disheveled hair and brooding scowl; Lo with his sharpened jawline and daggered amber eyes. I’m a misfit when I hang around them—polished, hair actually combed—but the irony is that their insides are probably warmer than mine.

“As for the fighting,” I explain, “I took fencing, Taekwondo, and jiu-jitsu as recreational activities while I was at Faust.”

“Let me guess,” Lo banters, “chess club was full.”

“Not full,” I say. “Too easy.”

Lo’s phone buzzes and he glances at the screen. “I have to take this.” He walks over to the empty receptionist counter.

Ryke hangs by my side. I remember that he had trouble finding Daisy a Christmas present at the mall. He claimed he’s never had to buy a girl so many gifts, and it’s becoming harder, especially since she has everything she wants already.

“Does Daisy like silk?” I ask.

Ryke’s jaw hardens, his brows cinching in irritation and warning. You’d think I asked if she liked it in the ass. “For you to give to her,” I clarify. “Lingerie.”

His darkened glare basically says: don’t ever repeat that.

“You’re a pleasure.”

“Yeah? I don’t talk about your wife’s fetishes.”

I tilt my head again. “Daisy has a silk fetish?” I can barely keep my composure, my lips rising.

“Fuck off,” Ryke says. “And aren’t you supposed to be celebrating me today?”

“I left my excitement in my limo,” I tell him. “Maybe you can go fetch it for me.”

“How about no backhanded compliments or fucking insults?” Ryke squats to collect the six harnesses. “Or is that asking too much?”