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.”
I shake my head. “She gave me five-thousand dollars for my twelfth birthday. I invested it and made good money. I don’t have a trust fund.” I refused the one she offered me.
“We should play a drinking game,” Lo says. “Every time Connor Cobalt makes me feel stupid we take a shot.”
“You’re fifteen months sober,” Ryke reminds him.
“Always gotta put a black cloud on everything, bro,” Lo refutes, though there’s more humor in his voice than hostility.
“What do you think?” Ryke asks Julian.
Julian shrugs, hardly affected by Ryke’s hardcore glare. “What do I think about what?”
No one elaborates because there’s nothing to elaborate on.
“You’re not sleeping in her room,” Lo warns.
Julian swishes his beer in a brief moment of contemplation (not long enough apparently) because he stupidly says, “I’ve already slept in the same bed as her before. I don’t see the big deal.”
Lo lets out a short laugh like is this guy for real? “You don’t see the big deal?” He steps forward. “Let me spell it out for you Julius—”
“Julian—” he barely has time to correct him.
“You’re twenty-fucking-three,” Lo says, not missing a beat. “How old are you, Connor?”
“Twenty-four.”
Lo turns to Ryke and mockingly tilts his head. “What about you, Ryke?”
“Twenty-three,” Ryke says.
Lo touches his chest. “I’m twenty-two myself.”
“That’s great,” Julian says a little dumbfounded as to what’s going on. Just wait, Julian. He’s getting there.
“I consider myself fairly smart,” Lo says, “but you must be a real fucking idiot if you think we’d be okay with someone our age sleeping with our girlfriends’ seventeen-year-old little sister.”
Julian’s not even intelligent enough to catch the obvious flaw in Lo’s statement—that Ryke doesn’t even have a girlfriend in this scenario.
He shrugs, still not seeing the issue. “She’s a model, man. We’ve spent nights at our friends’ flats in New York City together. She’s snorted coke before. I think she’s past the overprotective brother routine. Maybe if you haven’t noticed, she’s pretty mature.”
Lo grits his teeth and turns his head to me. “Can you believe this guy?”
I can believe he’s a moron, yes. But his argument is valid. It doesn’t mean I think he should be spending the night in Daisy’s bed. I’m not even sure she wants that. “You’re sleeping on the couch,” I tell him calmly.
He just shakes his head with a pouty lip, not even considering it. “No, I’m not.”
“I’m seriously going to kick his fucking ass,” Ryke says to us.
“I’m standing right here, man,” Julian retorts. “What’s your deal?”
“You’re twenty-three,” Ryke snaps, “and you’re fucking a girl who’s seventeen.”
“We’re not fucking. And aren’t you the one on Princesses of Philly who’s always around Daisy?” His eyebrows rise in accusation. “Maybe you’re the one fucking her. Or maybe you’re just jealous. Yeah, that’s probably it.”
Before Ryke has the chance to lunge, Lo steps in front of his body, blocking him from Daisy’s boyfriend.
“Julius,” Lo says, purposefully using his name wrong now that he knows it irritates him, “maybe you’re feeling a little goddamn disgusting being with a seventeen-year-old. Keep your shitty feelings to yourself. Don’t project them onto my brother.”