Find You There

by Brianna Bennett

  “That’s true,” Lyric admitted, biting the inside of her cheek. “So . . .”

  “So . . . ?” Luca parroted teasingly, and she glowered at him, barely suppressing a smile. “Oh, don’t give me that,” he admonished flirtatiously, watching her through his eyelashes.

  “I’ve been doing some thinking,” she said, breaking eye contact to stare down at her feet. “Remember when you asked me out on a real date?”

  “Hard to forget, since you kinda left me hanging,” he replied, resting his hand against the column of her neck, pressing the pad of his thumb against her chin to push her face back up. She stuck her tongue out at him, and he laughed lightly, his eyes sparkling.

  “I may rethink my answer if you keep being mean to me.”

  “You don’t mean that.” He leaned toward her, and their noses brushed in an Eskimo kiss. He abruptly changed direction, leaning past her face to whisper in her ear. “You llllliiiiiikkkkeee me,” he teased.

  “Okay, fine, I’m saying yes to a stupid date!” she blurted. “Now shut up and kiss me.” Luca leaned down to do just that when someone cleared their throat.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” said Rhythm from the kitchen threshold. “Pea—I mean, Lyric. Can we talk? Privately?”

  “Sure,” Lyric answered. She turned to Luca for a moment and smiled. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you still haven’t mastered the wheel, have you?” Luca shook his head. “Why don’t you head on over to CMH, and I’ll meet you there?” she said. Luca returned her smile and kissed her forehead before heading out to the Honda and driving to Craft Me Happy.

  “Ah, Luca, I have to admit I’m surprised to see you here, but I’m happy all the same,” Mr. Patterson greeted when Luca came into the studio. “I assume you’ve seen the news?”

  “What news?”

  “Your father has decided to cancel his campaign and will be stepping down from the Senate.” Luca’s mouth dropped open.

  “He did what?”

  “Oh, you didn’t know.” Mr. Patterson hummed, and Luca stared at the teacher like he’d grown an extra head. “I assume you at least know about the charges filed against his campaign manager . . . what’s his name?” What?

  “What.” Luca’s brain short-circuited for a moment. Shit. I hope Carrie’s okay. “What kind of charges?”

  “Embezzlement, money laundering, misuse of campaign funds,” Mr. Patterson answered. “Ah. I see you weren’t aware of any of this. I’m sorry you had to find out from me.”

  “No, that’s fine, I just . . . wow.” Luca couldn’t wrap his mind around anything Mr. Patterson had told him; none of it made sense. He reached into his pocket for his phone but belatedly realized it wasn’t there. No wonder I haven’t gotten any notifications. I left it at Grams and Gramps’s house. “Can I borrow your phone?”

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Rider asked Carrie for what seemed like the billionth time. “You don’t have to.”

  “I know I don’t have to, but I want to. For closure,” Carrie replied, squeezing his hand. “It’s cute how much you care.” She pecked his cheek and then opened the door to the interrogation room, straightening her shoulders and keeping her expression as neutral as possible.

  Her relationship with her dad had always been . . . complicated. She knew he loved her, and to some degree, she loved him, but they’d never been what you’d call close. She’d filled the hole he left in her life with Luca and Rider at different points. I should probably start going to therapy at some point, she thought idly even as she sat across from her father.

  The metallic table was cool to the touch, and her chair felt like ice against her rear. Focusing on these sensations made it easier for her to meet his gaze.

  “Caroline,” he greeted, and she bit her tongue to keep from correcting him.

  “Henry,” she returned, and he raised an eyebrow. “Oh, am I supposed to call you Dad even though you’ve done nothing to earn my respect and everything to destroy whatever faith I had in you?”

  “I was merely doing my job as campaign manager,” Henry replied, his voice flat.

  “Is that what your lawyer told you to say? I’m sure you have the best one that money can buy.” Carrie couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice.

  “These charges are ludicrous and a waste of taxpayers’ money.”

  “Right, because the FBI just goes around charging people with felonies willy-nilly, doesn’t it?” Carrie shot back sarcastically. “Seriously? You may be innocent until proven guilty in the eyes of the law, but as far as I’m concerned, you’re a liar and a thief, and the only good thing you’ve ever done for me was make it possible for me to meet Rider and Luca.”

  “I clothed you, fed you, paid for your education—”

  “All of which you were required to do as my sperm donor. I’m not going to thank you for doing the bare minimum to keep me alive.”

  “No matter what you say now, you are my daughter, and we will always be blood.” Carrie smiled grimly. “When a jury of my peers finds me innocent, will you apologize for these hurtful words?”

  “Will you apologize to Luca and Rider’s dad for turning him into a monster?” Henry frowned. “I didn’t think so. I don’t have anything else to say to you.” She got to her feet and went for the door, her head held high even as traitorous tears burned behind her eyes. She opened the door and let it shut behind her, and Rider said nothing, just hugged her and told her over and over how much he loved her.

  Lyric and Rhythm sat across from each other in their living room, unsure where to begin. At least, that was how Lyric felt. She had no idea what her big brother was thinking, and that, she supposed, was part of the problem.

  “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for destroying your art,” said Rhythm. “It was wrong.”

  “Apology accepted, though I don’t know if I can forgive you quite yet.”

  “That’s fair,” Rhythm replied clinically. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Listen, Lyric . . . I said a lot of things that I regret. I’ve been a downright terrible big brother to you over the last few months, and you didn’t deserve any of it.”

  “I may not have deserved the way you treated me, but you were right that I’d been removing myself from family matters for way too long. You shouldn’t have had to handle everything on your own, big brother or not. I should’ve figured that Cadence wouldn’t be available to help because of her school schedule, and I should’ve stepped up and done something. Anything would’ve been better than nothing, and for that, I am truly sorry. You were practically screaming at me, and I didn’t want to hear it.”

  “Okay, enough. Can’t you both just admit you screwed up and hug it out already?” Cadence asked as she came downstairs. “You’re going around and around in circles trying to decide who’s more responsible for this whole mess when in reality you are both at fault in different ways. So, stand up, give each other a hug, and move on.”

  “She has a good point,” Lyric said after a beat, and Rhythm shook his head with a light chuckle.

  “Of course I have a good point. I’m a Libra! It’s what we do!” Cadence declared, and the three siblings cracked up laughing. Things may not be perfect, but they’re on the right track, Lyric thought. Step one is done. On to step two.

  “Demisexual? What does that even mean?” Chuck asked brusquely. They sat in Elena’s condo, as that was a more neutral meeting place than their home. Lyric counted her breaths for a minute before she spoke again, careful to keep her voice mellow.

  “It means that I don’t experience sexual attraction to someone until I form an emotional bond with them.”

  “How can you not experience sexual attraction? Is this something that can be fixed?”

  “No, because I’m not broken. I’m just wired differently, and there’s more to life than sex.” Chuck belatedly realized how his words had been interpreted, so he tried to open his mouth and say something else, but Elena silenced him with a look.

  “Let her finish.” />
  “Thanks, Mom.” Lyric deliberately counted her breaths again, her heart racing like a Kentucky Derby horse in first place. “It’s taken me a long time to be comfortable enough to talk to you guys about this, and I still had to do it separately. My sexuality has nothing to do with what you did or didn’t do as parents either. I’d be who I am whether I was raised by you guys or not.” She exhaled and closed her eyes as the weight dissipated from her shoulders. Step two, done. On to step three.

  One of the perks of living in a small town was that everybody knew where everybody lived. As such, Lyric would’ve known Shawn’s address even if they hadn’t dated because the Perry family had always lived there, and it would’ve been a big story if they’d moved for some reason. Stop delaying the inevitable, she told herself, pushing her shoulders back and knocking on the door before she could talk herself out of it. Patty Perry owned Perry Real Estate with her husband and Shawn’s father, Eric. As such, she always had a smile on and could negotiate her way through anything.

  “Ah, hello, Lyric! It’s been some time since we’ve seen you around these parts!” Patty adjusted her glasses needlessly, the plastic gems on the wires catching in the sunlight. “We’re packing Shawn up so he can return to New York—”

  “Lyric?” Shawn edged his way in front of his mother, the screen door serving as a barrier between them. “What’re you doing here?”

  “Shawn! Remember your manners!” Patty chastised. For a moment, Lyric wondered if Patty knew what had happened between them, what had caused them to break up, but she ultimately decided that it didn’t matter.

  “Can I borrow your son for a few minutes?” Lyric asked, and Shawn raised a wordless eyebrow, clearly recalling the last time they’d met at the Jiujitsu dojo.

  “Of course you can!” Patty chirped and none too gently shoved Shawn toward the door. Clearly, she thought there was still a chance for reconciliation between them and that was what Lyric had come by to do. Shawn sighed, and Lyric stepped back so they were outside.

  “You’re completely different around your mom,” Lyric told him, and he scoffed.

  “What are you really here for, Lyric? I thought you made your feelings quite clear before.”

  “See, that’s the thing—I didn’t. I want you to understand what happened between us and why I reacted the way I did when I saw you. Shawn . . . you . . .” She exhaled and wiped her sweaty palms on her shorts. “You took what you wanted from me even though I told you I wasn’t ready, and then you broke up with me the next day via text message and made me think it was my fault.”

  To her surprise, Shawn didn’t react negatively to anything she said. Instead, he scratched his chin and leaned against the side of his house.

  “I’ve been doing some thinking since that day in the dojo, and for what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” he said after a beat. “I’d love to blame anyone but myself for what I did, but I knew it was wrong even while it was happening and especially after it was over.”

  “I accept your apology, and I came here to let you know that I forgive you and that I have someone in my life who treats me the way I deserve.”

  “That’s good. Listen, if you’re ever in the Big Apple and need a place to crash . . .” He let the sentence hang, and Lyric shook her head. “I don’t want to end this”—he gestured to the space between them—“On bad terms.”

  “I appreciate your offer, but I’ll pass. It’s better if we let bygones be bygones.”

  “Fair enough. See you around.”

  “See you.” Lyric and Shawn parted ways, but before Lyric left the property, she turned around and raised her hand to wave goodbye to Patty but snorted when the realtor smacked Shawn upside the head. She was too far away to hear what was being said, but she could imagine it had something to do with him letting a nice girl slip through his fingers. Smiling to herself, she made her way to Craft Me Happy. Final step, here we go.

  “I must admit, I’m surprised by this, Lyric.” Mr. Patterson leaned back in his chair, gesturing to the resignation letter she’d presented him with.

  “I’m surprised too,” she admitted. “But I have to stop hiding from my problems, and this is a step toward doing that. I still want to open my own ceramic studio one day, but I’ve realized that I don’t have to worry about one day right now. Plus, I think my replacement is up to the challenge.” Mr. Patterson watched her for a moment, eyes analytical and calculating. He broke the gaze after a moment, and Lyric smiled to herself despite the anxious butterflies in her chest.

  “Well, all right, then. You have two weeks to return your key. I hope you know that I’ll be happy to write a letter of recommendation or serve as a reference for any future jobs you may apply for.”

  “Thank you.” Lyric nodded and got to her feet. “See you around.”

  “Yes, you will,” Mr. Patterson promised with a warm smile. Lyric returned to the main studio and found Luca at his usual workstation, though the lump of clay had been transformed into a lovely bowl. She opened her mouth to call his name but realized that he had headphones in his ears and probably wouldn’t hear her, so she strolled across the room and stood in front of him until he noticed her. It only took him a few minutes, and his eyes sparkled when he looked at her.

  “Hey,” he greeted with a smile.

  “Whatcha listenin’ to?” she asked.

  “3M. I decided to give it a shot after your stellar recommendation.”

  “Good choice,” she told him, and then glanced down at his bowl. “I see you’ve made some progress.”

  “Yeah, finally. I’m sure working here will give me even more reason to perfect my skills.”

  “Oh, I know for a fact that it will,” she said with a sly smile. “So, what’s next for you, Luca Sherwood? Aside from becoming Mr. Patterson’s newest assistant, that is?” He shrugged and got to his feet, stretching his arms and rolling his neck.

  “Don’t know yet, but I’m excited to find out.” He rested his hands on her waist. “Will I find you in that future?”

  “I think you already know the answer,” she answered coyly. He rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

  “Humor me.”

  “Then, yes. So long as you want me, you’ll find me there, waiting for you to catch up.” He pecked her lips, and she snuggled into his chest.

  “Good.”

  THE END

  Acknowledgments

  “What’s the hardest part of being an author?”

  * * *

  While I’ve never been asked this question myself, I’ve often wondered what my answer would be. Would it be something witty and intelligent? Or would it be something hopelessly awkward and embarrassing?

  My friends and family would probably (lovingly) say the second one, and I have to agree with them on this hypothetical scenario. I have a tendency to react rather than respond in situations like this, and by that I mean I just blurt out whatever’s on my mind instead of taking a moment to pause and think.

  As such, my answer to this question would likely be ‘writing the book in the first place.’ Not the editing, not the formatting or the cover design…writing the dang thing at all.

  I say that because as Chuck Shurley says in season 4, episode 18 of the CW’s Supernatural, “Writing is hard.” And it doesn’t get any easier, either. You just get better at it. (Hopefully).

  Anyway, this book wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for my parents, my sister, my two best friends, my editor, and my thesis advisor. Your constant support has been integral to my stubborn belief that “Hey, maybe I can make something out of this writing thing!”

  All in all, Lyric and Luca’s story would never have made it to the page without you, and for that, I’ll always be grateful.

  To my parents, I know that we’ve butted heads on this ‘writing as a career’ thing more than once, but you’ve never once told me to give up, so thank you.

  To my older sister, Lindsay, for buying multiple copies of my first book as soon as it was available for pre-order and for bein
g its first/only reviewer on Amazon, you’re the best.

  To Jess, for putting up with my BS for nearly ten years and being there for me when I needed a friend, you’re the greatest former college roommate I could’ve asked for.

  To Noelle, for being honest with me, especially when I didn’t want to hear it. That’s what a “manager” is for, right? That, and the body doubling sessions at your apartment were critically important for my productivity, too.

  To Alex and Blair, thank you for your guidance and determination to help me make this book as good as it could possibly be.

  All of you, especially the person reading this, rock my socks.

  About the Author

  Brianna Bennett is an emerging author of new adult novels that cross genres and conventional stereotypes. This is Brianna’s second book. You can learn more about her on her website, www.booksbybri.com, where you can also sign up for her newsletter!