Kiss the Sky (28 page)

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Authors: Krista Ritchie,Becca Ritchie

BOOK: Kiss the Sky
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“Everyone but me,” I tell him.

He laughs again as if this is a joke. I don’t break my even
gaze and his smile falters. “Oh…” he mumbles. “Shit, that bad huh?”

“Yeah, man, that bad.” I inwardly cringe at my vocabulary,
but he seems to respond better to it. His shoulders have slackened and he puts
on an easy smile again. It’s almost like we’re friends.

Another one to add to my collection.

How fucking sick is that?
Frederick
—oh wait, I can’t call him. The annoyance builds and
builds. I just need a fucking nap apparently.

“Julian, you think I could get your number? You’re coming to
the Alps with us, right?”

“Yeah.” He recites his number for me and I categorize it in
my phone. I have no intention of ever calling him, but if something happens to
Daisy and she’s with him—it would be important information to have. “You think
you can call Daisy back down here when you go upstairs? We were kind of in the
middle of something, you know.” He gives me one of those looks that would
accompany an elbow nudge to the hip.

He really is an idiot. “No,” I say flatly. “You can use your
hand to finish up. She needs to make breakfast.”
And something tells me she doesn’t want to touch you.
I can’t look
at him without wanting to slam his face in the crease of the door.

So I leave after I secure his number. I’ll just go upstairs
and try not to wake Rose as I crawl into bed.

Thanks to Frederick, I can now sleep this day away.

 

 

[ 24 ]

ROSE CALLOWAY

 

“Did you see what happened at the airport?” Lily
asks me with a big, silly grin. “Not one person even blinked in my direction.
And all I had to do was wear sunglasses.” She lets out an appreciative sigh
before collapsing on the bed. “I think I love France.”

I can’t help but smile. Seeing my sister happy is a special
event.

Our trip to the Alps has been scheduled for a while since
production wanted to film in a vacation setting. But it couldn’t have arrived
at a better time. We all needed a break from the rabid paparazzi. The cabin has
been rented out and stocked with wood, the climate still biting and snowy at
the end of March.

3 months
– Mom

3 months and Lily will be married. 3 months and I need to
finish sewing the gown. After five sketches, I think I designed the perfect
one, and I brought some fabrics here to start. Connor says I should just hand
it over to a seamstress, but I want it to be perfect. If this is the only thing
I get right for Lily—then the whole wedding is a success in my eyes. Maybe not
for my mother, but for me—definitely.

Everyone unloads groceries while Lily and I scope out the
beds to assign rooms. I hate to ruin her suddenly cheerful mood with wedding
talk, but she’s created the perfect opportunity.

“So since you like France, you won’t mind that your wedding
is in Paris.”

Lily lifts her body up on her elbows. “Does that mean that
the reporters won’t film it?” The wedding is supposed to be national news,
broadcasted on multiple cable networks sponsored by Global Broadcasting
Association, as if Lily and Loren are royalty. GBA bought the rights to film
us, against other big names like ABC, NBC, and CBS.

“I think they’ll fly out for it.”

“Oh…”

The silence stretches longer than it should, the tension heightening.
“I can change it if you’d like. You just haven’t given me any ideas or hints as
to what you want.”

“I want to still be engaged in three months.”

“Lily—”

She holds up her hands. “I know,” she exclaims with a sigh.
“That’s not a choice.” She thinks for a second. “I guess Paris will be fun.”
She grins. “Can we have crepes at the wedding?”

“Already ordered.”

She jumps off the bed and throws her thin arms around my
waist. “Thank you, Rose…” She pauses. “I’m sorry I’m making this hard for you
to plan.”

“It’s okay. I like the challenge,” I lie. That’s Connor’s
thing. Challenges. Games. I’d prefer my path to be an easy one.

 

* * *

 

Ryke
lets out an
exhausted huff as he barges through the front door, supporting my fifty pound
suitcase in his arms. “What the fuck did you bring, Rose?”

“Sweaters and jackets take up more room than bathing suits,”
I defend from the kitchen. Lily, Daisy, and I start stocking the wooden
cupboards, and we make soup for dinner. Ben, Brett, and Savannah are still
here, but they’re silently buzzing around, trying to unload their camera
equipment as quickly as possible.

Savannah is the fastest, and I refrain from cheering her on,
but she deserves the praise. Those
steadicam
contraptions are heavy. She’s already on her feet, heading to us.

Loren traipses in behind
Ryke
with
Lily’s duffel slung over his shoulder, trekking in snow. He watches his brother
struggle to keep my suitcase in his arms. Loren looks unsurprised by my
over-packing, considering he’s attended
many
family trips with us.

“It has wheels, you know,” Loren tells him like he’s a
moron.

“It’s fucking snowing,”
Ryke
growls.

Loren turns to me. “Don’t you already own a
slav
—I mean a boyfriend.” He flashes a sardonic grin.

In perfect timing, Connor walks through the doorway easily
carrying my other two duffel bags without an issue. Yes, I have a problem
over-packing. I need choices, and I would have gladly brought my own luggage
inside but we divided up duties.

“We were just talking about you,” Loren tells Connor.

“I heard,” he says. “In terms of ownership, we’re both on
equal footing…unless you’re talking about in bed.”

“I can see how she’d be bossy.”

Connor grins and slides past Loren and
Ryke
to drop off my bags. Loren’s brows bunch together in confusion while my neck
heats.

Lily tugs my arms. “You’ve done things, haven’t you?” she
asks in a whisper-hiss. “And you haven’t told me?”

Savannah edges close with her camera, her red braids against
a black chunky sweater with mini pink skulls. Her
goth
look is actually quite cute, and she’s more apt to crack a smile than porky
Brett, who only looks happy when he catches Lily doing something sexual.

He’s
still
my
least favorite of the three-person crew.

“Maybe,” I answer Lily evasively.

At the stove, Daisy stirs the soup with a large ladle,
smiling brightly until she looks up and her eyes lock on someone.

I follow her gaze and find her “boyfriend” strolling into
the cabin as he texts on his phone. Tall, dark-haired, Italian, a quarter
Spanish. I had a five-minute conversation with him on the plane, and it was
clear Daisy didn’t hide Julian from us because he’s dumb.

He’s six years older than her.

To say that most of us were displeased would be an
understatement. None of us have done the yelling bit yet. Mostly because the
cameras have been heavily up in our faces during the trip, waiting for us to
explode on Julian.

That’s why Scott withheld airing footage with him. They
wanted
that
moment. And so far, no
one has given it to him. Which put Scott in quite the
pissy
fucking mood. I am abnormally chipper because of it. I could twirl around in a
dress and hold out my hand, waiting for a bird to come land on my finger.
Imagine the Wicked Witch doing that dance number, and that’s pretty much me
right now.

I turn to Lily. “Apparently we all keep secrets.”

“Hey,” Daisy says, knowing I was referring to her. She waves
her hand at me. “I knew you’d disapprove. If production hadn’t forced me to
bring him along, he’d be back in Philly.”

“I
only
disapprove
because it’s illegal if you two hook up,” I remind her. “One year. That’s all
you have to wait.”

“Back to the point,” Lily insists. “Connor said
unless you’re talking about in bed.
That
implies you did things.”

Months ago, Lily would have crawled underneath a table to
avoid discussing sex. Now she prods for details. It’s enough to break my
silence. “We did some things,” I tell her in a whisper. But I know Savannah
catches every word.

“Things? What things?” She grins from ear-to-ear, excited
for
me. I wonder if she remembers her
first time, or if it was something hazy like her other sexual experiences.

“Wait, I want to hear,” Daisy tells us. She steps away from
the stove and closes our little circle.

“We haven’t had sex yet, so don’t get too excited.”


Things
can be
better than sex sometimes,” Lily says, poking my arm with her bony finger.

Daisy stays quiet, her gaze drifting.

“Daisy disagrees with you, Lily,” I say.

“What? No I…okay, I kind of do.” She grimaces a little as
she recalls a few memories, waving her hands theatrically with each word.
“They’re pretty much equal for me. Fingering, oral, sex—it all sits somewhere
in the
meh
territory. I think I’m
just not programmed to like sex. I’m like the anti-sex goddess. The opposite of
Lily, you know?”

Lily turns bright red. “Ugh…” She places her hands to her
hot face. “My body betrays me all the
freakin
’ time!
I don’t know why those words embarrass me.”

“Because you’re a sex addict,” I remind her. “Stupid people
make you feel like you’re a whore if you say them.” And then I turn on Daisy.
“And that’s ridiculous.”

Daisy is all smiles but I see her fear—that she really isn’t
ever going to have a proper fucking orgasm.

“You can orgasm,” I tell her. “You just have to find the
right person.” I thought she had reached that peak with a guy before, but she
explained to Lily and me what happened, and it did not sound like an orgasm. It
sounded more like she settled with what was given, which was nothing much at
all.

“And what if there is no right person for me?” she asks
seriously. And then she plays it cool, shrugging. “I mean, I have no problem
being a casual dater, a single lady for life. You were going to do that before
you met, Connor, weren’t you?”

“Yes, but I never had a problem pleasing myself.”

Daisy has said on numerous occasions that she can’t orgasm
from masturbation, no matter how hard she tries. The only thing I can think of
is that she’s doing it wrong. I even found a book that literally shows her how
to touch herself—and she still said nothing happened.

Lily’s eyes widen at me like
you’re making her feel bad.

Oops. Tact. I lose it sometimes. “You’ll find someone,” I
tell her, squeezing her shoulder encouragingly. But I think I squeeze a little
too hard because she winces. I let go. “…Just keep dating. And when you find a
loser, ditch him quickly. Please.”

Daisy nods. “So how far did you go with Connor?”

“I thought you were going to forget about asking.”

“No way,” Daisy and Lily say in unison.

“We did things…” I remember him choking me for the first
time as I hit an excruciatingly blissful peak, and then the many times after
where he made me come with his fingers. Almost every night we play around, but
we haven’t had sex yet. And we haven’t done anything kinkier than tying my
wrists to the bedposts.

“We want details,” Lily says with wide eyes. “Like…what
things?”

I feel the hot gaze of the camera. I want to keep
some
things private from them and
many
things private from the nation.
“Good things,” I say evasively. I gesture my head a little at the camera, and
they both catch on, starting to drop the conversation. I end it with, “He’s
better than anything I imagined.”
Suck on
that, Scott.

Daisy beams, a longing in her eyes for something similar to
what Lily and I have. I truly hope she finds love someday and way more than
meh
sex.

Her gaze drifts. “Look who showed up.”

Scott stands in the doorway, typing on his phone. He stopped
in Los Angeles for a production meeting with GBA before he flew to France. He
tucks his cell in his pocket, and his eyes find mine. The smarmy smile only
heats my chest. He’s no longer as
pissy
as he was at
the airport. I seriously consider pouring the vat of bubbling hot soup over his
head.

But I don’t.

Because then I’d go to jail for assaulting him. And I’d
probably be called a man-hater more than I already am, which I don’t think I
warrant the title. And if I do…I need to work on that.
 

Jail and my pride are really the only two things stopping
me. I can handle him going after me, but when he picks on my sisters with mean
and offensive comments, like he’s been doing this past month,
murder
sounds so worthwhile.

This week is supposed to be a break from the chaos, but I
have a feeling it’s all just beginning.

 

 

[ 25 ]

CONNOR COBALT

 

“So you guys are like nasty rich,” Julian says,
gripping the stem of a beer bottle. Lo,
Ryke
, and I
have pulled Julian outside after dinner. Since Daisy doesn’t have a brother,
the three of us are in charge of questioning her new boyfriend.

I’m really just here to make sure
Ryke
doesn’t hit him and Lo doesn’t make him cry. Ben lost a game of
rock-paper-scissors with Brett and Savannah, so he withstands the cold to film
us.

“Our
parents
are
nasty rich,” Loren tells Julian. “We live off their generous donations.”

“Trust funds,”
Ryke
amends.

“I make my own money,” I interject and take a sip of my
wine. Lo and
Ryke
both have Fizz cans in their hands,
not drinking alcohol per the usual.

Loren gives me a look. “Yeah, from your mom’s company.”

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