by Kole, Lana
Lyric burst into laughter, her eyes watering as she batted at the air, shoving Henry’s arm slightly. It was contagious, and Nohen felt his own lips curling to mirror hers.
“I know that you didn’t just—” More giggles broke up her words. “You did not just tell me to get my ass tattooed. Not you, Henry.”
Humor bubbled up in his chest, the mortification on Henry’s face too much to take.
Lyric deepened her voice. “Be on the bus by eleven sharp, no later than eleven-oh-one,” she said, mimicking Henry. “Oh, but you can get your ass tattooed, no problem.”
Nohen barked out a laugh as Lyric clutched her stomach, more giggles bursting free at Henry’s expense.
Henry crossed his arms, rolled his eyes, and sighed. But his lips twitched as he stared at Lyric.
“Being on the bus late throws off the schedule. Getting your ass tattooed affects no one but yourself.”
And Adra and Emerson, considering you’d be sore for quite a while.
Nohen wanted to roll his eyes at himself. He was acting like the spoiled child, and he had to remind himself that wasn’t who he was anymore.
You’re better than that. Quit being an ass.
“I thought I was the one with tardy problems,” he drawled to take the attention off Lyric. As much as he enjoyed the pretty flush on her cheeks, it was different when she was clearly uncomfortable.
Hell, when Henry turned that alpha scold on him, he was uncomfortable too.
“Oh, you are. You’re still on my shit list after the first week.”
“What?” Nohen gasped, feigning surprise. “The venues are just so big! I wanted to explore!”
Lyric chuckled, and knowing he was the one to inspire that sound from her lips made his chest swell up. With adoration, pride, the ever-shining glow of his crush, whatever you wanted to call it.
Henry groaned and wiped at his eyes. “Okay, guys, I’m really going to bed now. Don’t let me scare you off, I just need to sleep off this headache.”
He called after Henry with a, “Goodnight,” to match Lyric’s.
Then there were two.
Lyric didn’t miss a beat, sliding off her rocking chair to sit beside him on the porch.
He fought the instinct to scoop her up and put her back in the chair. She deserved to sit on a damned pedestal, but he couldn’t deny he also liked being so near.
Her soft, muted scent drifted over, and he drew in a calming breath.
“So, finish telling me what you were going to on the bus,” Lyric said.
Nohen’s lips parted, but Lyric beat him to the punch.
“And don’t change the subject this time. Why’d you move around so much?”
Nohen shrugged. “My mom did a lot of work with omega centers all over the country. We followed her wherever she was needed.”
“And that’s why gaming was so important, huh?”
Nohen drew one knee up and rested his arm on it, then stacked his chin on top of that. “Yeah. No matter where I moved, whenever I got home, my real friends were just a swipe away.”
“Do you still keep in contact with any of them?”
Nohen felt his cheeks heat. “Uh… not really. I drifted apart from most of them after high school.”
A soft pressure feathered against his side, and it took him a moment to realize it was Lyric pressing closer to him, sensing his discomfort.
“How come? That’s so sad.”
Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe he was just tired of trying to relate to Odd’s and Emerson’s tales of couch surfing and van riding.
“I threw myself into video games all through school, got… exceptionally good at them. I went pro at twenty.”
He ruffled a hand through his hair, torn between avoiding the surprise on her face and wanting to puff out his chest with pride.
“Went pro as in… you were a streamer or something?”
He nodded. “Basically. I streamed myself playing, but mostly I competed. I had sponsors and everything, and it was fun for a while.”
“What happened?” Lyric questioned, laying her arm on his knee. “Why’d you quit?”
“I found music. At first it was a hobby, but then I realized it was something I could see myself doing for years. And it was… challenging.”
“Gaming wasn’t?”
Nohen waved his hand back and forth. “It could be, sure. But once it felt like I got to the top, for lack of better phrasing, it wasn’t the same. I missed the days when it was just my friends and I playing for fun.”
“You got to the top? What do you mean by that?”
Lyric mimicked his posture, propping her head on her knee and staring at the ground. She slid her empty glass back and forth, leaving behind a trail of condensation.
Running a hand over his neck, he wavered over telling her everything. He didn’t want her to worry about him trying to ‘take care of her’ like she always assured them she could do herself. But in the end, he didn’t want to hold anything back. “I placed in the top bracket two or three times and came first once. So…”
“You were pretty good then! I’m sorry I hadn’t heard of you before, but I don’t really follow that kind of stuff.”
“Actually, I’m glad you didn’t. It’s hard to have any kind of relationship with someone when you can’t tell if they have good intentions—”
“Or if they have ulterior motives,” Lyric finished.
He sent her a soft smile. The fact that she knew firsthand what he was talking about made his chest ache. “Exactly.” He nodded to her glass. “When we get back on the road, I’ll have to introduce you to something better than this.”
Lyric pinched her lips together as she glanced at the glass. “I think I’ll pass.”
He chuckled. “I promise it tastes better. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying the finer things in life.”
He was treading on thin ice. Just one wrong comment, just one slip, and he’d have to admit the truth to her.
Maybe subconsciously, he was doing it on purpose, trying to bridge the gap he’d felt widening between them ever since she and Emerson had gotten involved.
Now you just sound like a petulant child.
Was that what he was doing? The adult version of throwing a tantrum, sabotaging himself to get attention from the pretty girl he had a crush on?
Frustration furrowed his brows. Now he was just annoyed with himself.
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”
Nohen shrugged, drawing in a slow, deep breath as he prepared for her response. He’d come this far, and comparing himself to a child annoyed him enough that he was committed to finishing what he’d unknowingly started.
Lyric was blissfully unaware, staring at him with an open, easy smile on her face.
He hoped he didn’t have to see it slide off her lips.
Expect the worst, hope for the best, right?
He tried to match his smile to hers, but inside, he was a shaking leaf of nerves. “You could say that.”
Lyric arched a brow at him. “Is that so? Don’t be shy. Go on.”
“My family grew up...well off. Both my parents were betas, but my mom supported us the most. Her job at the omega center paid well. And the gaming did well for me too. Really well.” He muttered the last part and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I know Adra and Emerson have had some struggles, so I didn’t feel comfortable saying anything. I hope you understand.”
Lyric’s lips twitched before a little giggle tumbled out. “Are you kidding? Emerson would be over the moon to know he’d beaten a pro-gamer a few times.”
He smiled, he couldn’t help it. Lyric didn’t care. Nohen ran a hand over his face, wiping away the misplaced worry, and chuckled. “You’re right. That alpha does not need another ego boost.”
“Oh, he’s not so bad,” Lyric said softly, smiling.
Nohen studied her as she stared ahead, her cheeks pinking slightly.
Oh.
She liked Emerson.
>
Nohen would bet all the seconds he had left with Lyric that she didn’t even realize it yet either.
“I know. He’s fun to give hell to though,” Nohen replied, nudging her with his elbow.
Her cheeks flared brighter, and she cleared her throat before saying, “Yeah, he’s easy to get a rise out of.”
There was a story behind that blush, but he’d pry those pages open later.
“Thanks for sitting out here a little longer. I know you’re probably tired.”
She pulled her other knee in close and rested her head on her arms, rolling her face toward him and smiling softly.
It pinched something in his chest, how small and vulnerable she looked, how sweet.
“Don’t thank me. I like having you all to myself.”
“That makes two of us,” she responded softly.
Nohen blinked, letting her words take a slow trip around his brain before they settled and took root. Her smile only widened, and she picked her head up, closed the distance between them, and placed the softest kiss to the corner of his lips.
“Goodnight, Nohen, let’s get some sleep. We’ve got an early morning and a long trip ahead.”
She was on her feet and at the door, glancing back with a soft smile before Nohen even processed the kiss she’d given him.
“Well? Let’s not piss off Henry. Buddy system, remember?”
Right…
Nohen got to his feet, grabbed the glasses and the plastic container, and walked her inside. He was a little dumbstruck, unable to conjure up more than a few words to mirror her own goodnight.
It wasn’t until her hand was on the knob that he reached out and circled her wrist with his fingers.
She paused, turned to face him, and gazed up at him.
“Goodnight,” he repeated, and pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger. He leaned down and ghosted his lips over hers, just a gentle reminder that he was there.
Hopefully she’d spend the rest of the night dreaming about it like he did.
Lyric let free a sigh as she left the shower and ran to her nest. Now that the sweat was finally scrubbed from her skin, she felt a little more human. Lyric collapsed on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, still in her towel. It was quiet, and she soaked in the silence…
For only a few moments. Then her skin began to itch and she glared at the ceiling. It was too quiet.
The others were still in the venue, probably hanging out in the greenroom.
Grumbling, Lyric rummaged through her clothes, looking for her comfy sweatshirt.
Now that the bus was fixed, they were back on schedule for the rest of the shows, and two performances in a row had been flawless.
“Where is it?” Grumbling, she grabbed her overnight back she’d neglected to unpack, and dumped it upside down on the bed’s surface. All she wanted was that one sweatshirt, the green one with the—
A white packet tumbled out last, landing on the pile of rumpled clothes, and Lyric froze.
No way, she thought, a slow panic creeping up from her chest and strangling her breath.
“No. I took them,” she declared, but still reached out to lift the white square off the pile. “I took one…”
Lyric envisioned the night before. Walking onto the bus after the show, showering… waiting for the others. Even eating and checking social media before she finally fell into a dead sleep. There was only one thing missing from the movie in her head—taking her suppressants.
Sliding the pills out of the sleeve, she counted the days and…
“Oh fuck.”
She was four days off.
The foil packet screeched in protest as she tightened her grip, denial and panic wrapping around her ribs to squeeze at her heart.
Four days isn’t that bad. I can double up and get caught up. It’ll be fine.
Lyric wasn’t perfect. She’d missed a day here and there in all the years she’d been taking suppressants, but four?
How did I let that happen? I really just forgot?
She guessed with all the stress from the bus breaking down and sleeping away from her nest, then rushing to get to the next shows, and then performing her heart out to deal with the guilt for having to cancel that show…
Lyric’s phone beeped, a very specific sound, set to alert her when a very specific alpha needed her attention.
Shit. Do I tell Henry?
Grabbing the first clean shirt she found and a pair of leggings, she glanced at her phone as she pulled the shirt over her head.
She half expected the message to be a scolding, as if Henry would somehow know she’d fucked up when she hadn’t even realized it until that very moment. But no, the message was casual. It was her brain that was overreacting.
Henry: Late dinner catered. Want your plate in the greenroom or bus?
Lyric finger combed her wet hair into a presentable appearance and then sent him a text back.
Lyric: Greenroom. Be there soon.
Lifting the packet again, she counted the days once more and shook her head. The plastic crackled as she popped one out of the foil, and she stared at the little white pill.
That was probably why she’d been sleeping so well. At the time, it hadn’t been more than a passing thought, but the past three nights had been some of the best she’d ever slept. Her gaze leapt to the blue bottle of headache relievers. She also hadn’t needed to take three of those a day to combat the aches brought on by the suppressants.
She gulped, guilt settling above her like a rain cloud as she let the thought brew.
What if she just… stopped taking them? Would that be so bad?
She did just go through her heat, so she wouldn’t have to worry about that particular problem until after the tour was over.
And by then she could just start taking them again.
Or you could let Adra and Emerson help.
Her fist tightened around the pill, the thought almost enough to scare her into taking it anyway. But no, it wouldn’t come to that.
The bed sank beneath her weight as she sat on the edge, pill clenched in one fist and the plastic packet in the other. No matter what she decided, it was a big decision to make alone. And it not only affected her, but it would affect everyone else on the bus.
I can’t put them in that situation.
At least not without letting them know.
Lyric popped the tiny white pill into the foil and slid the packet back into its sleeve. After putting it back in the nightstand, she swallowed down her nerves and made her way out of her nest. She’d talk to Henry the first chance she got.
When she opened the bus door, Nohen was waiting outside.
“Buddy system,” he said with a smile. “Care if I walk you?”
“Oh, hey, did Henry send you?”
Nohen shrugged as she stepped off the bus and walked with him across the lot. “I might have offered. If you remember correctly, I did say I liked having you all to myself. Even if it is for a thirty second walk from the bus to the venue.”
Lyric couldn’t help the smile that curled her lips at his flirting. “I remember something like that. Hey, by the way, have you seen my green sweatshirt with the flowers on it?”
Nohen ran a hand through his curls as he seemed to think it over. “Not that I can remember. Did you lose it?”
“I don’t know. It was my favorite.” She hadn’t seen it since the bus had broken down and she’d turned her nest upside down looking for it.
“I’m sure it’ll turn up.”
Lyric sighed. “You’re probably right. What are we having tonight?”
He held the door open for her as he spoke. “I’m not sure, but it smelled good.”
She could have eaten on the bus, probably should have after her discovery, but she didn’t want to raise any alarms. Each night she’d been spending a little less time in her nest, and more time with everyone else. To suddenly barricade herself in the nest would be suspicious.
Act cool. Nothing’s wrong.
The room was just like all the other green rooms. A table, a few couches and chairs, a few mirrors for them to get ready in front of, and a mini fridge stocked with water, snacks, and whatever weird flavor of gummy bear she’d requested.
But what was different about this room was the spread of food set up on the white folding table. Cardboard and aluminum containers were spread out like a buffet of sorts, the scent of garlic and spiced meat and fresh salsa mixing in the room to make her mouth water.
“Hey, guys,” she greeted. Her stomach rumbled, and she drifted closer to the table to see the spread. “It smells so good,” she gushed, and grabbed the plate Emerson handed her. Without hesitating, she moved down the line and served herself.
The others shadowed her, and it wasn’t until she was seated, staring at them in a line, that she realized what they’d done. “Did you guys wait for me before eating?”
Everyone but Desi froze, as if caught in the act of something terrible. “Maybe,” Emerson said, handing one of the serving spoons to Adra.
“It’s polite,” Adra explained.
“Well… thank you. That’s sweet,” she responded. “But don’t do it again. Eat when you want to.”
Her comment was left without a response, and she rolled her eyes. Desi took a spot beside her and bit into her taco. “Don’t have to ask me twice,” she said around her mouthful.
Lyric chuckled, letting her worries slide to the back of her mind as she glanced down at the colorful dish on her plate. Her mouth watered as she lifted a taco, the familiar scents too delicious for her to resist. It wasn’t until she took her first bite, the spices hitting her tongue, that she realized why it was so familiar. A soft hum of ecstasy, the kind only brought on by good food, tickled her throat.
She turned around, her stare locked on the table as she chewed, looking for the logo of her favorite restaurant, but each box was nondescript.
“Henry,” she said in warning once she’d swallowed. “Where is this from?”
He balanced his plate precariously as he sat on a folding chair, one ankle crossing over his knee in a way that seemed far too elegant for his rough exterior. Henry lifted a taco to his lips, arched a brow, and bit down on the soft shell as she watched. He made her wait while he chewed, jaw working, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed before he answered her. And by then, she’d almost forgotten what she’d asked in the first place.