Lo gives me a look like are you serious? “You can’t talk about that shit with her. She’s a fucking sex addict.”
Connor’s eyes flicker to me in the rearview mirror, his hands tight on the steering wheel. Whether he sides with Lo or me, he doesn’t let on. Daisy twists her hair into a long braid beside me.
I groan loudly. “She’s so embarrassed to talk about sex. I was doing her a fucking favor, and secondly, I don’t know why you’re yelling at me now. This conversation happened months ago.” Thanks, Lil, for bringing it up right now. When I’m in a confined space for fucking hours with my brother.
Lily and I talk often, but I don’t remember how we arrived onto the topic about public sex, maybe because she mentioned how she missed it. It’s one of her restrictions now that she’s in recovery. I was sitting on their couch, waiting for Lo to change for the gym, and I asked her all the places she’s done it.
Her face flushed red and she stumbled for answers. I thought it’d make her more comfortable if I listed my sexual fucking adventures.
Beaches.
Bathrooms.
Golf courses.
Woods.
Parking lots.
Elevators.
Parks.
Malls.
Gym locker rooms.
The list really just goes on and fucking on. I like screwing everywhere, especially outside. Lily started to open up a little bit. It wasn’t my fucking intention to share our sexual exploits with each other, but I just wanted to make her feel less ashamed about her sex life. So fuck me.
She told me she had sex with Lo in a movie theatre once. And how she did it at an amusement park when she was eighteen, on the fucking Ferris wheel.
My first thought: I have to give her some credit for that one. It sounded fucking fun.
And then she told me it was with a random guy she met at the cotton candy booth.
My insides kind of twisted. For her. For my brother. I wish she could have just enjoyed sex like me, but instead it was something else entirely for her. Something darker.
“I appreciate you trying to make her comfortable,” Lo says in a way that sounds like he really doesn’t appreciate it. “But for Christ’s sake, she’s texting me to clarify public sex to her.” He shakes his head and looks down at his phone and reads her text. “Is tent sex considered public sex, if the tent is owned by us? Because some people live in tents. Therefore that would be a house, and a house isn’t public, it’s private. Therefore, tent sex is private sex.”
Connor tries really hard not to make a sound (at least I think he does) but he ends up bursting into laughter.
“I know,” Lo says. “It’s insane. It’s like reading a text from someone trying to convince you that cocaine isn’t a drug.”
“And how do you know this is my fucking fault?”
Lo raises his brows. “Because I told her that it’s public sex and she immediately responded with: Ryke has a lot of public sex. Maybe he’s a sex addict.” He looks up to me. “And then we had a long fucking talk about the conversation you had with her.”
Daisy eyes me with a grin. “You like public sex? Like in grocery stores?”
“Yeah, right in front of the fucking cantaloupes and produce,” I deadpan.
“I prefer to do it in front of the baking goods. Chocolates chips. Cake mix.” Her smile grows.
Lo looks between us. “No,” he says sharply. “Don’t even go there.” His eyes land on Daisy. “And don’t have sex in public. It’s fucking gross.”
“Hey,” I cut in. “Let her do what she wants.”
“Yeah, sure, get arrested, Dais,” Lo tells her. “Or better yet, screw in a grocery store and then some cashier will be peeking in from the aisle over and film you on his cellphone. Great story to tell the world.”
I expect another sarcastic comment from her, but instead, her face turns serious. “Do you think it’s gross that Lily has had public sex?”
Lo’s face contorts and he starts shaking his head. “Of course not. She’s not gross.”
“But it’d be gross for me,” Daisy says, touching her chest. Confusion wrinkles her forehead.
I glower at Lo. He did just say that.
“That’s not what I meant,” Lo says, cringing. “You’re just…you’re you, Dais. You’re young.”
“Lily had sex on a Ferris wheel when she was eighteen,” I refute coldly. “Don’t make this into an age thing. Say the fucking truth, Lo. It’d be gross for you to think about Daisy having sex. It doesn’t matter where the fuck it is.”
“It’s okay, guys,” Daisy says quickly, “I’m sorry I brought it up.” She slides over to the window, her face sinking in guilt at stirring more confrontation between my brother and me. But honestly, anything she fucking says is going to rile Lo. It’s just the way he is.
Lo gives me a long stare. “Just be more careful with Lil next time. You, ranting and raving, about losing your fucking virginity on a golf course is not going to help. She’s going to want to try it, and I have to tell her no.”
“You can’t even do it outside the bedroom once? I thought she was getting better,” I say.
“She can’t ask for it,” Lo tells me. “And she’s starting to fucking ask. You see the cycle here?”
“Yeah.” He’s not getting laid. But I know it’s more than that. He worries about her. He always has.
“Who locked the windows?” Daisy suddenly asks
I glance over and see her flicking the button on the door handle, nothing happens. Dais cannot sit still for longer than thirty fucking minutes. Put her in an SUV for an hour, and she’ll stick her head, arm, legs and eventually her whole body out of the window. Lo had to drag her back onto the leather seat three or four times already.
I slide next to her.
“I did,” Connor says. “I’m not getting my first ticket because Ryke won’t restrain his puppy.”
“Hey,” Lo interjects. I frown. He’s going to stick up for me? “Don’t be calling Daisy his anything.”
I roll my eyes. “Just unlock the fucking window, Connor.”
“No, it’s cool,” Daisy says, scooting closer to me. “I don’t want to get anyone in trouble.” She tucks her long blonde hair behind her ear, and her leg brushes against mine. Her bruises are gone, and this morning, she had her stitches removed by a doctor in Ohio. The gash along her cheek is closed but reddened.
Still, it looks ten times better than it did. I untie her hair that’s in a bun, and I playfully mess the strands. They lie tangled on her head, frizzy like she rolled out of bed or ran through the woods.
She tenses as she watches me look her over closely. I act the same in front of Daisy as I did before we got together—which means my brother shoots me a warning glare every half hour for overstepping and walking a thin line.
“Do you like my hair long?” she asks me.
“No because I can tell you fucking hate it.” I wonder if she was waiting for my opinion before she grabbed a scissors. I thought cutting her hair would be one of her first spontaneous acts after she quit modeling.
“Then why do you always untie my hair when I put it up?”
I’m going to have to fucking generalize because my brother is in the front seat. So I say, “I like when girls have messy hair.”
“Like ‘we just fucked’ messy?”
She went there anyway. I try hard not to smile.
“Daisy,” Lo interjects with a grimace. “Don’t say that to my brother.”
“You’re right,” she says to Lo. “The f-word is a bit abrasive.” She tilts her head at me. “How about ‘we just had sex’ messy?”