12
LOREN HALE
I want to f**king scream.
At no one in particular.
If I could, I’d disappear in my bedroom with Lily and try to get her to a better place than the one she’s at. I hate that she’s anxious, and I hate that she’s scared of herself. And I recognize what just happened—that she became aroused from someone other than me. It’s not a new development. Since she’s been pregnant, she’s gotten hot from almost everything.
What’s different is that she’s starting to let her addiction f**k with her mind. Affect our relationship. I won’t let anything tear us apart. Especially not something we’ve both been fighting for so long.
“Loren!” my father calls.
I stand on the stairs uneasily, about to drop Lil on her feet, but she spiders my body, terrified more of herself than of my dad in the living room. After years of dealing with her sex addiction, I know how to help her, but I can’t respond to him and her at the same time.
“Lo,” she breathes.
“Lil,” I say, cupping her face with one hand and her ass with the other. I force her gaze to mine, and she cuts me off before I can speak.
“I’m only attracted to you. You know that, right?” Fear spikes her voice.
I can feel my face sharpen in aggravation. Not at her. Just the situation. I wanted time to take her upstairs and talk to her. “I know, Lil—”
“Loren, come here, now,” my dad interrupts again.
“One second!” I yell back. This is my only moment to get her on the same page as me. “Lil, you know how much you love p**n ?”
She nods, and I wipe some of her silent tears. My stomach twists the longer she’s upset.
“That’s all this is. You’re turned on by a lot of stuff, love. We live with two other couples, and one is into PDA…” I watch her face scrunch as she tries to understand. I figured out that she’d be aroused by the PDA quickly, and I mentioned to Connor that I was concerned she’d become scared of Ryke and him.
It’s a small regression, a speed bump.
So we tested it out. He stood behind her for a few seconds. Not even that close. I’ve seen Lily freak, but never about Connor—someone she used to think was g*y.
Lily shakes her head repeatedly at me, confusion seeping in her green eyes. “I’m not turned on by your brother,” she whispers with wide eyes, her fingers digging into my shoulders.
“He could’ve been anyone, Lil. Do you understand?” The pain in her eyes—pain for me, thinking she’s hurt me somehow—breaks my heart into too many goddamn pieces. I just want to hold her tightly until it’s just us left. No one around us. Drown everything out.
She rubs her eyes. “Ryke is like a p**n star?”
I almost laugh, but her chin quivers. “Lil?” My lungs drop.
“I’m not allowed to watch p**n ,” she says with worry. “So…if everything is like p**n , then…”
No. Christ no. “Lil, don’t be afraid of the f**king world, please.” I can’t have her scared to go outside again. I’m screwing this up, really badly. And this isn’t like a failed grade on a test. I am holding my girlfriend’s wellbeing in my hands right now.
“I just…how do I fix this?” she asks me.
“LOREN!” my dad calls, like a knife in my gut.
My fingers slide into her straight brown hair and I say, “You just have to accept that what you feel is okay.”
Tears squeeze out of her eyes. “Lo…” Her throat bobs. “…it doesn’t feel okay.”
I kiss her cheek, and I whisper, “After we get done talking to my dad, I’m going to show you that it is.”
“LOREN!”
“Give him a f**king break,” Ryke retorts downstairs.
My veins pulse hard. I trust that if I leave her alone, she won’t touch herself. But in this moment, I don’t want her to face a challenge that she’s already hurdled fifty million f**king times. It’s one that’s never easy, and she doesn’t need to prove herself after an agonizing hour.
I’d rather her not be in pain at all. That means I enable her and have sex. I can’t do that. I have to settle for somewhere in the middle of pain and ecstasy. Between a high and a low.
It sounds easier finding that place than it really is.
I bring her downstairs with me, carrying her in a front-piggyback. When we enter the living room, the fireplace is lit, and outside the fogged windows, snow falls. The air is strained, especially as Ryke and my father stay standing while Daisy fidgets on the suede loveseat, crossing and uncrossing her long legs.
I sit on the couch with Lily, and my father scrutinizes her for too many seconds.
“You could have called,” I tell him, “or texted me.” None of us needed a spontaneous meeting with him. Before, we had all worked up to it.
“But I didn’t. Shit happens every day that you can’t prepare for, Loren,” he says, like I’m not familiar with that.
I’ve walked through life with a blindfold, hoping I didn’t crash into things, sometimes praying that I did. Preparation has never been my thing. My life is a “toss this dart at me” kind of random. Let’s see which body part it pierces.
My dad disinterestedly inspects hardbacks on a tall wooden shelf, all belonging to Rose and Connor. “Think of this as a life lesson,” he says.
My jaw tics in irritation. “Like I need any more of those.”
I wait for the, don’t be a little shit.
He buries his fists in the pockets of his black slacks, no whiskey in hand. And he faces the couch. “You’re probably right.” No insult for me. I lean back in surprise. He’s been sober for almost four months. It still seems like a dream, but these moments make it more real.
I rub Lily’s shoulders, but she squeezes her thighs around my waist. I’d rather not move her off my lap, but I’m afraid she’s going to grind on me. I scoot her onto the cushion, and I toss a purple blanket over her. She adjusts so her heel digs into the spot between her legs.
Christ, Lil.
My dad’s gaze drifts over to the foyer. “This is just between the four of us.”
“I’ve never fought with you about anything,” Connor says easily, Rose by his side. “Let’s not change that.” It sounds like a threat.
I’ve never seen anyone really hold the same power in a room as my father. Lily’s dad is submissive towards Jonathan. Soft, is what my dad calls him. And Connor has always played their game with a fake smile and a firm handshake.
This is different.
My father sizes him up, a literal once-over from head to toe.
Ryke says, “Let them f**king stay.”
Rose has already settled in a Queen Anne chair next to me, crossing her ankles, Connor standing beside the armrest.
My dad keeps his attention on Connor. “I understand why you like Ryke. What’d you call him the other day? Your attack dog.”
Ryke flips Connor off without meeting his eyes, but it’s in jest. He’s said that plenty of times to his face.
“I like him all the same,” Connor says.
“But what’s Loren to you?” my dad asks. He thinks he’s poking at a weak spot of Connor’s, but he’s doing a poor job. He can’t break the guy. He’s built of titanium or some sort of indestructible alien material. Like Superman.