I rip two more off from her stomach and her arms.

Tears brim her eyes. “Sorry,” she apologizes, wiping the corners.

I fucking hate when she says she’s sorry for her feelings—for stupid fucking things that don’t ever need apologies. I stand up and kiss her temple, knowing my brother is consumed with his girlfriend’s wellbeing. And I hold the back of her head and whisper in her ear. “You can cry if it hurts, sweetheart. It doesn’t make you a little girl.”

She lets out a deep breath. And her arms tighten around me. She places her forehead on my chest, and I reach over her shoulder to take off the last three on her back. She flinches, and only one of them bleeds after removal this time. I rub her head before pulling off my long-sleeve gray shirt. Cold washes over my bare chest, and I realize that she must be freezing. I fit it over her head, and it falls to her thighs, the fabric soaking some of the blood.

I rub her arm, creating friction to warm her body. “We’ll clean and bandage those at the campsite,” I tell her.

She nods, and then glances over at Lo, checking to see if he’s watching her.

Fuck it.

I lift her in my arms, cradling her. She smiles, despite her tears drying in the corners of her eyes. “We’ll meet you guys at camp,” I tell them.

Lo glances at me once, clearly noticing Daisy in my arms. This isn’t the first time I’ve cradled her. Nor will it ever be the last. I stare at him with a hard, unflinching gaze.

I did nothing wrong.

I just helped someone who I love—the same fucking way Lo is taking care of Lily and Connor is taking care of Rose. I’m tired of being shit on for doing the right thing with the wrong girl. The biggest kindergarten response pops up in my head.

It’s. Not. Fucking. Fair.

And then Lo does something surprising. He nods at me, almost like an approval, not quite, but almost. He gestures with his head towards the campsite. “Go.”

I do.

I leave with Daisy in my arms.

As I’ve done so many times before.

Maybe that’s why it’s not so fucking hard for him to accept this moment. When everyone pairs off, I become the only option for her. There’s no one else but me.

That’s how this all started.

But I think about Julian. I think about all the other fucking guys she’s been with. All the other women I’ve dated.

And I’m certain that’s not how this ends.

There’s no way I’m with her out of circumstance.

We chose this because nothing else felt right.

Nothing else felt as good.

Our greatest happiness has always been with each other.

< 39 >

RYKE MEADOWS

We helped the girls clean off their wounds with soap, and we bandaged them. Now they’re in sweatshirts and baggy pants, grouped around the campfire. Lily sits on Lo’s lap, her head to his chest. She keeps dozing off, but faraway howls from the woods and rustles in the trees startle her awake.

“What was that?” she asks with wide eyes, glancing over her shoulder.

“A big bad wolf,” Daisy jokes, her legs kicked up on my lap. Before we were together, she’d playfully do this, but I wouldn’t touch her. So I can’t put my hands on her ankles or pull her closer to me. I just have my hand on the back of her camping chair, watching her pick at a hot marshmallow on a stick. “Oh wait,” Daisy gasps, “he’s right here.” She tilts her head at me.

I raise my brows at her. I can feel my brother watching, and I’m not fucking sure what’s going on in his head. His expression has been unreadable for most of the night.

She leans forward and licks gooey marshmallow off her finger. My arousal heightens as she quickly grabs my attention. Her eyes lock on me, and she whispers, “Big bad wolf, are you going to eat me?”

You’re a dirty girl, Calloway. My gaze drops to her mouth. “Until you fucking scream.”

Her lips curve upward.

“It’s dead, Rose,” Connor says. His voice pulls our gaze towards him. Rose is curled on a chair beside Connor, his hand on her thigh, her fingers intertwined with his. In her other hand, she fries a leech on the tip of a stick, her yellow-green eyes murderous.

“Not nearly enough,” she retorts. “This little bitch took my blood.”

“And here, I thought you were roasting it for dessert,” Lo banters.

Rose holds up a hand at him, as though to say silence. She squishes the blackened leech against a log, stabbing it over and over.

Lo looks around at us like what the fuck? He nods to Connor who sips a Fizz Life, a grin at the corners of his lips. He finds his wife fucking amusing—even if she’s half-crazy. “How are you not scared to bite her in bed?” Lo asks. “If you draw blood does she grab a fire poker?”

“I’m not a leech,” Connor replies with ease.

Rose tosses the stick into the fire and cleans her hands with a wet wipe. Then she reaches into a grocery bag by her side. “So I bought these on the way here.” She pulls out a tall stack of tabloid magazines. “I wanted all of us to burn them together and purge the bad energy.”

Connor says, “As long as we don’t have to chant afterwards, I’ll participate.”

Rose stands, trying to hide a smile that’s clear to me. She fucking loves him, arguments and all. “I’d rather you not. Your pessimism is already clouding the process.”

“Realism and pessimism are two very different things, but I’d be happy to explain it to you.”

She covers his mouth with her hand. “Thank you for defining arrogance. You can keep your other definitions to yourself.” She spins around, dropping her hand. “Now where were we?” She starts passing out the magazine, and Connor’s eyes fall to her ass. Even though he acts like he’s better than every horny bastard, he’s still a fucking guy. Case in point.

Lily holds her marshmallows over the fire, and a flame engulfs it almost immediately. She shrieks and waves it around, as though that’ll snuff it out.

I shake my head at her. “You’re going to fling it in the woods, chill the fuck out.” Last thing we need is to start a forest fire.

“It won’t extinguish!” she defends. “Extinguish, you mallow! Extinguish!” She flaps it around some more and tries blowing, but she more or less just spits on the thing. And then from behind her, Lo easily blows out the flame himself, leaving her with a burnt marshmallow.

Daisy smiles wickedly. “Wow, who would have thought—Lo blows better than Lily.”

I rub my lips to keep from smiling. Everyone else looks fairly uncomfortable by that statement—only because it came from Daisy. If I said it, it would’ve been fine. If Lily said it—everyone would have fucking laughed.

Lo glares at me.

I extend my arms. “I didn’t do a fucking thing.”

“You’re a shitty influence.”

Daisy acts nonchalant, but her gaze flits all over the forest. Every time she tries to be one step closer to us, someone in our group has a way of pushing her back out. It’s unintentional, I think. But it happens, regardless.

“It was a fucking joke,” I tell Lo. He’s about to open his mouth, ready to chew me up and spit me back out. I mentally start putting on my armor to withstand him.

But then Rose snaps her fingers, cutting off Lo and regaining everyone’s attention. Her eyes meet mine briefly. I know she did that for my benefit. I’m grateful, but I don’t show it. “We’re supposed to be purging bad energy not creating it.” She drops a magazine on my lap. “Here, you can burn this one.”

I read the headline: Ryke Meadows Continues to Play Games. The front page picture shows Daisy hanging over my shoulder outside of the pub in Paris, my hand on her ass. But I can’t get over the smile on her face. The camera caught her mid-laugh.

She’s gorgeous. And she’s mine.

I don’t want to burn this picture. I want to frame that happiness and revisit it every morning and every night for the rest of my life.

But the headline definitely taints it.

They think we’re flirting. We are. But they also think I’m fucking Lily. So I’m a player. I’m fooling around with both Calloway girls. It’s just so fucking absurd.

My jaw locks, and I don’t waste another moment. I fling it into the fire.

“You have to wait!” Rose yells at me. “We’re doing this as a group.” She slaps my arm with another rolled up magazine and then tosses it at me.

“For fuck’s sake you’re high-strung tonight.”

“Talk to me when you’ve had a worm suck your blood off your ass,” she retorts, walking past me to Lily and Lo. I read the headline of my new tabloid: Sara Hale at War with Her Family.

Fucking fantastic.

Daisy rolls up her magazine, hiding the headline from view.

“Everyone,” Rose says, sitting back in her chair and crossing her ankles. Connor is the only one without a tabloid. Rose is sticking to her earlier claim, refusing to give him one. “Take your magazine and read something you find particularly offensive before tossing it into the fire.”

“And what is this supposed to fucking do?” I ask.

“Ward off evil spirits,” Lo says, sipping his Fizz Life while hooking his arm around Lily’s waist. She leans against his chest again. “Too bad it won’t cure your obsessive compulsive personality, Rose.”

She shoots him a scathing look, the flames reflecting in her eyes. “Too bad it won’t cure your alcoholism, Loren.”

He raises his soda can. “Look, it’s already working. You’re practically a licensed witch....shit, I meant bitch.” He snaps his fingers. He might as well have said aw, shucks.