24. Loren Hale
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
LOREN HALE
“Just drink more water.”
That happens to be Ryke’s brilliant advice whenever I tell him that I feel like a car ran over me.
This morning is no different. I stand on the patio, the crystal blue beaches in the horizon, but right below lies the congested pool.
Sloshed college students splash in the clear waters to the beat of some techno rap remix.
Amps sit beneath a white stretched canopy, shaded from the dangerously hot sun.
Sometimes a DJ arrives to fuel the crowd’s drunkenness, but right now, the station stays vacant.
The leathered skin DJ downs tequila shots at the tiki bar with two girls in G-string bikinis.
It’s definitely Spring Break.
I chug more water, but it doesn’t cure the pounding headache or the exhaustion that aches my muscles.
By the time Lily and I went back to bed, it was near three in the morning, and I couldn’t stop thinking about the text and calling my father.
I replayed an entire conversation about what I would ask him.
How I would frame my words…just to check up on the progress of everything.
“Are you okay?” Ryke asks.
If I say yes, he’ll know I’m lying. So I don’t know why he asks me. “I’ve had hangovers that have felt better than this.” I stretch my arms and legs, loosening up my joints.
Ryke sits on the patio chair and smears cream cheese on the bagel that he ordered from room service. “But this type of pain isn’t accompanied by horrible drunken memories. Consider yourself fucking lucky. ”
“Yes, I’m feeling overwhelmingly lucky right now,” I retort bitterly.
“We’ll find that guy,” Ryke tells me. I showed him the texts this morning before Lily woke up. “And then I’m going to put my fist in his fucking face.”
“HEY! THIRD FLOOR!!”
I lean an arm on the balcony railing and spot two American girls in string bikinis, their breasts hardly contained. Like the locals, they’ve tried to adopt the scarce bottom look, asses fully exposed. Both girls hold brightly colored plastic cups, their hair braided across their shoulders.
Ryke stands and puts his forearms on the railing, taking in the sight. He bites into his bagel nonchalantly, watching as the girl in the green bikini waves us down.
“Come swim with us!!” she shouts with a smile.
“Remind me why I came here with a girl,” Ryke says with a longing look. He checks out her ass, and the girl only grins wider.
“Because you didn’t want to be the fifth wheel.” I smile at his distress.
A loud scream echoes from the room, and we both quickly peel away from the balcony and rush inside. Without much room, I bump straight into Connor’s back. He almost trips over the cot that blocks the hall, but he grabs onto the dresser before falling.
“What’s going on?” I ask, trying to maneuver around the fold-out bed.
Ryke is so annoyed that he kicks the entire thing. It slams into the wall and somehow efficiently makes room for us to walk.
“Daisy is here,” Connor says.
“What?” Ryke goes rigid. Probably thinking the same as me—that was a happy scream?
I frown and search the room with a hesitant gaze. But I only spot Melissa on the couch, eating a bagel and typing on her cellphone. Her lips are downturned, not having as much fun as she probably imagined.
“They’re in the bathroom,” Connor explains. “Rose wants to put makeup on and use Daisy’s flatiron. She’s actually excited, but the luxury of name-brand hair products will probably wear off when she realizes that her sixteen-year-old sister just arrived to Cancun during college Spring Break.”
“So no one knew she was coming?” I ask.
Connor shakes his head. “She wanted to surprise her sisters.”
“She can’t stay,” Ryke says roughly. “I nearly died trying to chaperone her sweet sixteen in Acapulco.”
I heard the story from Lily, who also chaperoned Daisy’s birthday. Apparently the fearless Calloway jumped off a cliff into the ocean and Ryke felt the need to jump in after her.
“I won’t let her jump off anything,” I tell him. “I happen to be a damn good chaperone.”
He glares. “You couldn’t chaperone a fucking sloth. And that requires remedial skills like sitting and watching.”
I shoot him a hard look. I honestly don’t care if Daisy stays or not. One more person in an already crowded room won’t change anything. “Daisy blends in. You won’t even notice she’s here.”
His brows harden and his jaw sets, equally as firm. “When’s the last time you’ve fucking seen her?”
I want to say last week , but I’m certain that’s wrong.
I strain my mind. I guess I haven’t seen her since I’ve been back from rehab.
In fact, I don’t think I ran into her at the Christmas Charity Gala last year.
Granted, I didn’t stay long. The last time I saw her must have been during the yacht trip to the Bahamas—when Lily and I became a real couple. Jesus.
That was a long time ago.
“Daisy doesn’t blend,” Connor says.
“When have you seen her?” I snap accusingly.
I don’t like that these two guys have spent more time with my girlfriend’s sister than me.
I’ve been around the Calloways longer. I’ve known Daisy since she was a kid.
I’m supposed to be the interim “big brother” figure.
Though, I’ve done a pretty shitty job of it so far.
“I go to the Calloway Sunday luncheons with Rose,” Connor tells me. Oh. Shit.
If I marry Lily, I am easily going to be the worst son-in-law.
And then I pale at the idea of Connor and Rose.
Connor Cobalt cannot marry Lily’s sister. He’ll set unattainable standards that I will never be able to meet.
Loud, happy squeals resound from the bathroom. I relax at the mere thought that Lily is smiling. Last night she was near tears, and anything that can change her mood is something I wholeheartedly approve of. “I’m going to check on them,” I say.
Ryke takes a seat on the edge of the bed, scowling at the carpet. He seems deep in thought. About what—I have no clue. Could be Daisy. Could be Melissa. Could be me.
As I pass, I point at him, “You know what would make you feel better?” I open my mouth to finish, but he cuts me off.
“I’m fine.” And then he crosses his arms.
“Sure.” I give him a once-over. He’s probably pissed that he’s stuck with Melissa. The girl wears impatience like it’s her job. “A beer.”
“A what?”
“A beer would make you feel better.”
He glares. “That’s not funny.”
“It wasn’t a joke.”
“You better go to the bathroom before I punch you, which will actually make me feel better.”
I mock gasp. “But I thought you were fine.”
He actually stands off the bed. I don’t badger him anymore. But Christ, his annoyance made me feel better. Sans beer and all. With a wide smile, I walk over to the bathroom. The giggles grow in octave, and I rap my knuckles against the door.
“Who is it?” Rose calls from inside.
“Lo.” I glance over my shoulder. Ryke and Connor watch me in curiosity by the balcony doors, not attempting to infiltrate the exclusive club that the Calloway girls have.
For the first time, I’m a little nervous that the girls won’t invite me in.
I’ve always been allowed to be with them. I’m Lily’s other half.
But things have changed, I realize. Rose has a boyfriend. I have a brother. Two more guys have been added to our dynamic, and I could easily be grouped off with them.
So when the door swings open and Lily grabs my shirt, pulling me inside, I can’t help but grin. I feel kind of fucking special. I kiss her almost immediately and while my tongue slides into her mouth, she pushes the door closed with her foot.
Rose clears her throat, and I break away, wrapping my arms around Lily’s waist. She leans back into me with a deep breath, and I finally take in the room.
Hair products and makeup have exploded across the counter.
Rose sits on the bathtub ledge with a flatiron in one hand and a tube of lip gloss in the other.
“Did Saks Fifth Avenue vomit in our bathroom?” I ask.
They all laugh, and Rose is even too happy to retort with her usual ice. She looks like someone saved her from a deserted island. When Lily untangles from my arms and kneels down over a huge suitcase, I see Daisy for the first time.
She sits on the other side of the suitcase where clothes upon clothes pile high, the stack threatening to topple over. Shopping bags are smashed into available corners of the luggage.
“Hey Lo,” Daisy greets with a warm smile.
And as I truly look at her, my face slowly falls.
All I can manage to say is this, “You’re…
blonde…” A million other thou ghts cross my mind.
Most of them circulate around one thing: Me, warning Daisy to stay far away from every guy on the fucking planet.
And I have a flash of having to beat the shit out of someone on this trip—just to protect a girl who easily looks as old as her two sisters.
She can fit in with our group of college-aged kids.
And she shouldn’t. She’s sixteen , despite being a high fashion model.
Great.
Now I know exactly why Ryke was scowling. He knew she was going to be trouble. Not because of her personality. But because…she’s beautiful and too young to be here.
Daisy runs her fingers through her insanely long hair. “The modeling agency wanted it blonde.” She drops the strands, and they splay past her breasts. Fuck. I hate that I’m even looking there. I fix my gaze on Lily instead.
She tosses bathing suits from the shopping bag. She looks like she’s digging to China through clothes. It’s kind of adorable.
“So what are you doing here, Dais?” I ask, my eyes staying on Lily. It helps keep my mind off dragging Daisy to the nearest airport. I just want to make sure she’s safe. Three years ago, I’m not sure I would have even cared. Being sober definitely shifts my priorities.