Ryke cuts in, “You’re actually admitting you can’t do something, Cobalt?” He looks about ready to jump off the Queen Anne and call the press. Oh wait, he is the press. Maybe he’ll write an article about it tomorrow inThe PhiladelphiaChronicleand title it: “Connor Cobalt Doesn’t Know Everything!”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Connor says, poker-faced. “Iknowhow to do it. But I won’t. It’s illegal.”
Ryke rolls his eyes and grips his water bottle tighter. I guess that article won’t be happening.
Rose takes a dainty sip from her tea and says, “It’s still illegal if you pay someone to do it for you.”
“And if you’re smart about it, you won’t be caught.”
That thing I said about Connor being moral? Scratch that. He masks his emotions so much that I didn’t see his cunning ways. Still, I don’t think he would risk losing Rose for a seat at Wharton. At least, I hope not.
“Lo and I already discussed tracing the number,” I speak up. “All my contacts know my family. My parents would start asking questions if I hired a private investigator.” And the whole goal is to keep them in the dark as long as possible. I’m thinkingforeveris a good amount of time.
Lo nods. “We also don’t want to involve any unreliable third parties. I don’t want to be screwed over by them.”
I perk up as I think of an example. “Like a hacker that lives in his parent’s basement.”
“Yeah,” Lo says. “I don’t see that going very well.”
“I have a trustworthy PI that I can hire,” Connor says. “That’s not a problem.”
Rose smiles into her last sip of tea.
“I’ll pay you back,” I tell Connor.
“I prefer favors.”
Okay, that sounds sexual. When I think of favors, I picture blow jobs.
My face immediately heats, and I try looking away but everyone is already staring at me. I’m doomed.
“Lily!” I hear three voices in varying pitches chastise me. Lo puts an arm over my shoulder and I restrain myself from hiding in his bicep. I will not cower.
I point to Connor accusingly. “He said it, not me!”
“I wasn’t talking aboutsexualfavors,” Connor refutes calmly.
I point to my chest now. “Sex addict, here. My brain has an automatic setting. I’m not going to be thinkingpartyfavors.”
Bringing up the wordssex addictwas a bad idea, and I regret it as soon as Ryke says, “Speaking of being a sex addict.” I could punch him. “How’s your recovery going to work now that Lo’s back? Are you two allowed to have sex together?”
“It’s complicated,” I mutter. “And I don’t think I should be discussing it withyou.”
“She can have some sex,” Lo clarifies, apparently un-complicating it.
I want to disintegrate just a little.
“What issomesex?” Ryke asks.
Okay, a lot—I want to disintegrate a lot, a lot.
“I can’t talk about it,” Lo says evasively. But really he means:I can’t talk about it in front of Lily.Because I have no idea what“some”entails either. It’s going to drive me bonkers.
I also don’t like that Lo is so quick to share intimate details of our private lives, but I guess he’s trying to be better about opening up. And it must be easier to focus on my addiction than his own.
“What happens if you start enabling her?” Rose asks, setting her teacup on the table.
“I won’t,” Lo says with an added glare.
