Hothouse Flower

“What?” Her brows furrow.

I know I need to give her the whole explanation. I can barely meet her eyes as I do. “When I was seventeen, my dad came to one of my track meets. He tried to watch as many of my competitions as he could.”

I stare at the top of the tent, remembering the heat of the summer in May. Jonathan Hale in the bleachers, wearing a suit and nodding at me as I met his sharp gaze. He smiled. Genuine pride.

“My mom was there. She wouldn’t look at him,” I say. “And when a lady leaned in to ask my father who he was there for, I heard his answer.” A bitter taste fills my mouth. “He said, ‘my friend’s kid. That one.’ He motioned towards me.”

I remember flipping him off, and that pride vanished from his eyes.

I didn’t care anymore.

Daisy places her hands on my abs. “What happened?” she asks with a frown.

“I still had to run, and I had two fucking choices. I could reach the finish line or just walk away. I took my fucking mark, and right when I started the race, I began to slow down. And then I fucking stopped on the track, took a couple deep breaths and walked off.” My heart beats faster at the memory. “My coach pulled me aside and he told me something…” I shake my head. “It’s stayed with me for so many fucking years. It changed me.”

I meet her eyes that are filled with my pain, sensing the hurt that travels through my body, thi

I can practically hear my coach in my ear, see him standing on the sidelines, one hand on my shoulder. “He said that I could be anything and do anything, and no one can stop me but me.” I say what he did, “You are your own anchor, Ryke. When you fail, you hurt yourself more than anyone else. Do you want to keep burning or are you going to let yourself rise?”

My brother—I don’t think he ever had someone to tell him this. He just kept failing until there was no way he could ever succeed.

I reach out to Daisy and tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. “So I’m the anchor and the phoenix, and it was around this time that I learned to run for me. I stopped wi

She smiles, tears in her eyes. “That’s beautiful, you know.”

I sit up with her and kiss her cheek. It feels good to finally share that with someone. I never thought it would matter, but I can see that it does.

“How did you know that you loved ru

I think about this for a second. Take away all of my trophies, all the success, would I still run and climb? My lips rise at the answer. “Because when you find something you love, you can’t quit. Every failure pushes you harder. It’s in your soul and in your fucking heart.”

“And what if I never find what I love?”

“You have to try some things,” I say, not worried about this as much as she probably is. She’s only eighteen. She’ll figure it out. She has time, even though her mom makes it seem like she has none. “I got lucky.” I kiss her temple. “Try to sleep with me, Dais.”

She smiles and opens her mouth to make a very fucking obvious quip.

“Real sleep,” I say, lying back down with her. I hold her to my chest, keeping her safe.

And I wait for her to start dreaming.

< 41 >

RYKE MEADOWS

I unzip the tent, ru

I immediately find Co

I outstretch my arms. “You’re a bunch of fucking cheaters.”

Rose scoffs as though I punched her in the face. “We did not cheat.”

I slouch in a chair across from them. “You can’t buy coffee while you’re camping.”

“I’ve never heard of these rules,” Co

“You camp and you make instant coffee with boiled water and powder packets.” I shake my head at them. “Ru

Rose’s eyes narrow at me and then she takes a larger sip of her coffee too, not backing down. Co

Whatever.

“You’re glowing, by the way,” Co

“Fuck off, Cobalt.” I kick my boots up on the cooler.

Rose plants her fierce fucking yellow-green eyes on me. “Did you wear a condom?” she asks in a hushed but forceful voice, pretty careful not to wake up my brother.

My face hardens. There’s no way they heard us last night, but Co

Her neck reddens. “That’s not the point.”

I roll my eyes. “Okay then.” I have nothing else to say. I’m not about to explain how I always wear condoms with other women, but I honestly don’t see the fucking need to with Daisy. We’re in a serious relationship. I trust her. And I trust me. The. Fucking. End.

I’m about to stand up, but Rose says something that keeps me here.

“Be careful with her, Ryke. She might be experienced, but she’s still my sister. If you hurt her, I’ll personally snip off your balls and hang them on the Christmas tree this year.”

I internally cringe. “I wouldn’t fucking hurt her, I promise you, Rose.”

She nods. “Okay then,” she repeats what I did, and I almost smile.

“I’m going to get more wood,” I tell them.

Co

“Feel guilty for cheating?” I ask, heading towards the forest.

“No,” he says, his expensive shoes crunching the leaves. “I just thought you needed an extra pair of hands.”

I wait for the punchline. My brows rise when it doesn’t come. “No insult?” It’s weird not hearing a dog joke. Even with the constant badgering, he’s always been my friend, but like most of my relationships, it’s complicated. “You didn’t tell Rose about Daisy’s sleep issues, did you?” I stop about twenty feet from the woods, our camp still behind us.

“I thought about it,” Co

I won’t.

“She’s going to talk to her sisters,” I say. “She needs time.”

“Man’s greatest excuse to delay the inevitable.”

“Can you not fucking talk like your auditioning for the role of Confucius?”

“If you make a mistake and do not correct it, this is called a mistake.” Of course he goes and actually quotes Confucius. Fuck me.

I shake my head. “You’re such a fucking prick.”

He doesn’t even blink, not affected by the insult. Maybe because he knows it’s true. “You know, I never really liked Confucius. I always thought his principles were a bit basic, common sense.”

“Fascinating,” I deadpan.

He continues casually. “But there is one quote I appreciate from him.” Co

I don’t know if he meant for this to be about Daisy. But she’s immediately what comes to mind. After what happened last night, bringing up some of the past, all I want is to go full fucking throttle. No more slowing down. No more hiding. I want to believe that I control my fate, that I’m the one who chooses to stop and start.