Lyric & the Heartbeats

by Kole, Lana

  “Surprise. It’s from Casa de Taco. Had it catered in from one of the chefs.”

  “From out of state?” she asked, eyes bugging out of her head.

  Casa de Taco was a restaurant with food trucks all over the city. Her and Andi ate there so often she’d gotten to know some of the chefs.

  Henry shrugged as if it were no big deal. “Yeah. Why not? We’ve all had a stressful week. Food helps.”

  No response manifested in Lyric’s mind—at least not past her awe that someone would be so thoughtful—so she continued eating, all while sneaking glances at Henry. Desi finished first, and then moved to the corner of the room to giggle at her phone. Henry took Desi’s place, the couch sinking beneath his weight. Lyric had to shift, sitting with her back to the arm to avoid sinking down with the cushion.

  “Thanks. Did Andi put you up to this?”

  “Nah. I just asked her what your favorite place was.”

  Favorite was such an understatement. The food was all homemade, and since she’d visited so often throughout the years, it reminded her of late nights writing and brainstorming, fueling the energy she needed to make her dreams come true. Even when her mother had been alive, Lyric had ‘run errands’ and treated herself every once in a while. At one point, she’d been on a first name basis with some of the employees, but that was before she’d gotten so busy with everything for the tour.

  “I can’t believe you really had them catered from out of state. For just one order?” Lyric shook her head at the thought of how much that must have cost.

  Henry’s shoulders lifted in a casual shrug, lips twitching. “Maybe. It’s damned good too. Definitely worth it.”

  Lyric slowly lowered the soft taco shell that had been dripping grease onto the plate. “Is the chef here? I wanna meet them!”

  “He’ll join us in a bit. Said he wanted to look his best for Ms. Lyric Ceran.”

  Her cheeks flushed in one instant, and then drained away in the next. Nervously, she glanced to the left to the full-length mirror hung on the wall and swallowed.

  Her hair was clean, but her makeup hadn’t washed completely off, and she resembled a raccoon after a midnight dumpster dive.

  “Great,” she said dryly.

  Henry’s chuckle earned him a glare, and he swallowed down his amusement with the next bite.

  “So, how is it?” a deep voice asked.

  Lyric turned her attention from one alpha to… another. And almost lost her bite as she tried to keep her mouth from dropping open.

  What’s cookin’, good lookin’? was the first thought that ran through her mind, but thankfully didn’t come out of her mouth.

  Dark hair, dark eyes, stubble, tan skin, and that accent.

  Great. Just great. In the three seconds it took her to study the new alpha, she developed a crush.

  His face didn’t strike her as familiar, because she was certain that if she’d met him at the restaurant, she would not have forgotten. Not with that jawline sharp enough to cut glass and those amber colored eyes.

  But his voice… she was sure he’d answered the phone a few times when she’d placed an order.

  “What’s your name?” she asked.

  “Javier Rivera. It’s wonderful to meet you, Miss Lyric.”

  “It’s nice to have you visit. This is delicious,” she said, trying to hide her flushed cheeks by holding up her plate.

  And so are you.

  His scent hit her, all citrus and spice that she knew was all him and not a remnant from his work in the kitchen. Would it be appropriate to ask for a slice of him, next? Probably not.

  She tilted her taco at him, an extra lame move, but the smile she earned in response was worth it.

  “Thanks for inviting me.”

  “What branch are you from?” Lyric inquired. His voice did sound familiar.

  “I’m from the Main Street location in Uptown,” he answered.

  Lyric’s jaw dropped. “No way! That’s the same location I used to go to all the time. Is Emma still there?”

  His cheeks flushed. “Yes, but only part time. That’s my sister.”

  Her amazement grew. Uptown wasn’t a small area, so what were the chances?

  “I haven’t been by in a while, tell her I said hello.”

  Javier brushed a hand through his hair, his cheeks flushing the slightest bit as he looked away. “I’ll do that. To be honest, my family is quite fond of you. They’ll be happy to know you’re doing well.”

  It was Lyric’s turn to flush. “I came by that often, huh?”

  Javier’s deep chuckle made her bite her tongue. “Enough that Emma remembered your favorite,” he said, lifting his plate.

  “For good reason. This is some good shit,” Emerson mumbled through a mouthful of food. As Lyric glanced away from Javier, it made her realize they weren’t the only two in the room, and Lyric’s cheeks heated. At least she could blame it on the spice of the food.

  “Where is this place exactly? I think it’s become a new favorite,” Emerson continued.

  Lyric was content to watch from the sidelines and listen to them talk about everything from Javier’s food to the show to whatever other topics they could snatch from the air.

  After performing, and food, and the relief of a smooth show, she was tired. Not to mention her little fuck up, that while she’d been able to push to the back of her mind, still lingered. As they finished eating, Lyric remained in the greenroom until she could feel her social meter hitting empty. But she couldn’t help it, she stayed a little longer because she didn’t want to say goodbye to Javier. His gaze caught hers and she smiled.

  “I think I’m gonna head to the bus. Anyone wanna join me?” she asked, mostly to appease Henry before he could bark at her about that damned buddy system.

  “I’ll follow in a moment, don’t wait up,” Desi said.

  “Alright. Thank you for the wonderful food,” Lyric told Javier, somehow without her cheeks flushing ten shades of pink. She could have listened to him talk all night, the cadence in his voice softer, drawing her in.

  “Thanks for inviting me. Great show, by the way. Do you mind if I walk with you? My truck is parked at the back as well.”

  “Actually I think Henry would prefer that. We have this system,” she muttered, leaning in close.

  Henry’s gaze narrowed on her as she crossed the room, and she couldn’t escape it until the door closed behind her, a persistent spiderweb of disapproval she couldn’t shake off.

  Javier followed her. “System?” he asked.

  She waved her hand. “It’s Henry’s rule. The buddy system. We have to travel in pairs so he doesn’t lose us or something.”

  A chuckle sounded from behind her as he dodged a crew member. “Sounds pretty smart if you ask me. This is a big venue,” he remarked.

  “To be honest, it is a good idea.” She turned on him. “Take that to your grave. Henry can’t know. I have a reputation to uphold.”

  Mirth danced in his amber eyes. “And what reputation is that, pajarita?”

  Inside, Lyric melted as the endearment rolled off his tongue, no matter how casual he intended it. Did she know what it meant? No, but it was cute anyway.

  “A pain in his ass,” she answered.

  Javier cocked his head back and laughed as they reached the exit door. The cool air rushed in past them as they stepped into the night, and he slung his thumb over his shoulder. “It’s been a pleasure. I wish you luck on the rest of your tour and safe travels.”

  A smile curled Lyric’s lips, and she reached a hand out. She wanted to touch him, however briefly.

  Javier’s hand engulfed hers, and their arms moved in sync as they shook hands. His touch was electric, his scent coming through so much more clearly now that they were in the open air. It tickled her senses, almost spicy, but far from unpleasant. It transported her to a place she’d be happy to get lost in.

  How was it possible for one alpha to be so magnetic?

  “Safe travels back home,�
�� she responded a few seconds too late, but he smiled at her distraction.

  The seconds stretched on, and just when Lyric realized she needed to let go of his hand now before it got weird, the door opened behind them.

  “Oh, hey, guys!” Desi greeted cheerily. “The guys wanted to talk, so apparently it’s time for me to have phone sex with my girlfriend.”

  Lyric’s cheeks blushed on Desi’s behalf, and she dropped Javier’s hand—finally—and barely refrained from palming her face. “Thank you for that information, Desi.”

  “No problem. Let’s go,” she said, grabbing Lyric’s hand and pulling her away. Her other hand, gripping her phone, waved in the air before she lit the screen and began typing a message one handed.

  Lyric squeaked, and glanced back at Javier, whose cheeks were red with suppressed chuckles. “I’m not—this isn’t what it looks like!” she called out.

  The chuckles he let free were deep and light at the same time, making her chest feel feathery. “That’s nice to know, pajarita. Safe travels!”

  Lyric yelled a response before Desi pulled her onto the bus, finally locking her phone and turning on Lyric.

  “What was that about?” Lyric asked.

  “You tell me. Why would the guys kick me out of the green room to talk?” Desi countered, humor dancing in her eyes.

  Lyric narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know. Should I?”

  “Well, if you ask me, I think it’s because of the resident omega everyone has a crush on.”

  Heat rushed to her cheeks. “What… I don’t—”

  Desi waved her hand through the air. “Pfft. I don’t care. Just as long as it’s all consensual,” she warned, her smile slipping.

  Lyric swallowed, her weekend with Emerson and Adra flashing through her mind. A fog of sheets and mixed scents and moans and pleasure…

  “Yeah. It’s definitely… consensual.”

  “Great!” Desi beamed. “Now, if you don’t mind, I am going to have phone sex with my girlfriend. Unless you need to talk about anything…”

  Shaking her head in amusement, Lyric freed Desi to the bunk area, the lock clicking with a warning snick. She had about twenty, maybe thirty minutes before everyone was due back on the bus.

  Headlights splashed across the parking lot, and through the slats in the window, Lyric watched Javier navigate the lot before exiting onto the back road.

  A pang pierced her chest, and she frowned at the darkened street.

  Whenever she got home, she’d have to pay a visit to Casa de Taco and say hello.

  But in the meantime…

  Lyric’s gaze trailed to the door, the venue that was bustling with crew members and last minute cleanup.

  How am I going to get Henry alone?

  Emerson eyed Lyric’s back as she left the room, her giggles cutting off as the door slammed shut. He turned to Odd, willing the alpha to feel the weight of his gaze. With a tilt of his head, Odd caught his stare and held it, and one of those silent conversations they’d grown accustomed to began.

  “Desi,” Emerson barked a moment later. “Go have phone sex with your girlfriend, I need to talk to Henry.”

  Desi narrowed her eyes, clutched her phone, and stood. “Fine. But not because you so rudely told me to. Because it sounds better than eavesdropping on whatever boring conversation you need to have.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Emerson waved her off, but he couldn’t miss the smile that curled her lips as she glanced down at the screen and tapped a few times before turning and retreating from the room. She slammed the door behind her, but he didn’t even care.

  Odd dipped his head in a single nod before they turned to Henry as one force and told him their concerns in unison.

  “Henry, we think you need to hire the chef—huh?” Adra spoke at the same time Emerson blurted, “Get over yourself and give her a tattoo already—wait, what?”

  “That is not what I was trying to say!” Emerson growled, and turned on Adra.

  “What does a tattoo have to do with anything?” Adra responded lowly.

  Emerson ground his teeth. “Lyric has the hots for Henry, obviously. Are you dense? What’s this about the chef?”

  Adra rolled his eyes, and Emerson’s fingers twitched with the urge to wrap them around his throat.

  Then his dick twitched too.

  Not right now.

  “Did you miss the blushes and the flirting and the complimenting the food?” Adra asked, exasperated. “Lyric was attracted to the chef. And it was homemade food! Are you telling me that wouldn’t be good for her to have on the rest of the tour?”

  Emerson didn’t have a good response for that, because, like always, Odd was fucking right.

  “Okay, fine. She has the hots for Henry and the chef. Two birds with one stone. Henry,” Emerson started, turning toward the alpha with a game plan in mind. “All you have to do is tell Lyric you’re ready to give her a tattoo whenever she’s ready, and if you tell her it was your idea to hire the chef once you saw how much she enjoyed it—bam! Happy omega.” Emerson nodded, more than a little proud of himself for taking care of Lyric, even if she didn’t know it.

  That was the only way she’d let them, if she didn’t know. The only one who could get away with buying her things was…

  “Hate to break up this little meeting you’ve started, but we’ve got to get on the bus. Let’s go.”

  Henry grabbed his tablet, completely ignoring Emerson’s revelation. Emerson wasn’t having that, and pulled Henry to a stop before he could reach the door.

  “Don’t pretend like you didn’t hear me.”

  Henry sighed. “It doesn’t matter if she… has the hots for me,” he murmured softly. “I’m the manager. I’m her manager, and I have a job to do.”

  “Come on now, Henry,” Emerson chided. “You can’t act like she doesn’t affect you.”

  Lifting his head to the sky, Henry sucked in a deep breath, possibly asking for patience. It made Emerson fight a smile.

  “Once again, I’m her manager. It doesn’t matter how she affects me, I still have to do my job every day. Now come on, we can’t be late to the bus. And I have a phone call to make.”

  Without giving Emerson a chance to respond, he opened the door and stormed out.

  Emerson grumbled, knowing the conversation wasn’t over but not knowing how to continue it. However… the alpha hadn’t said no.

  And as for the last piece of the puzzle…

  It wasn’t until they were on the bus, the water running in the bathroom, that Emerson grabbed Nohen by the wrist and pulled him to a stop near the stairs.

  Nohen grumbled something about rude alphas and pulled his wrist away. “What?”

  Emerson’s lips parted to get a word in, but Henry grabbed him by the shoulder, stealing his attention.

  “Hold on a minute…” Henry said, voice dangerously low. “You are not going to manipulate Lyric’s situation, no matter how much you think it’ll make her happy.”

  “Oh?” Nohen asked, propping himself up against the driver’s dividing wall and twisting an empty water bottle. “Was this decided before or after you talked the chef into joining the tour?”

  Emerson’s mouth dropped open, and he turned toward Henry. “You did?”

  His eyes dropped for a split second before he met their gazes again, reaching a hand up to scratch at his temple. “I’m the manager. I’m allowed to make judgment calls that could make life easier for my artists.”

  “Oh really?” Adra asked quietly as he joined the huddle, crossing his arms. “By that, you mean making Lyric happy, who just happens to be an omega?”

  Henry’s jaw worked as he grumbled, a tic shadowing his cheek. “So what? I’m the manager taking care of my artist. And that includes you too, so I don’t know why you’re complaining about home-cooked meals every night.”

  “Oh, we’re not complaining. The opposite actually. Good job taking care of her.” The tension slid off Emerson’s shoulders… before Nohen spoke.

&nbs
p; “Did you guys actually need me for something, or just to referee your attitudes?”

  Emerson spun on him, backing him into the wall and caging him in with two hands on either side of his head.

  A flash of desire lit up his eyes before Nohen carefully replaced it with an expression of indifference.

  “How do you get Lyric to let you spoil her?”

  Nohen smirked. “Why? Mad I have a privilege you don’t?”

  “Maybe,” he admitted honestly.

  At the last stop, Emerson had asked Lyric if she wanted anything from the store, and she’d offered him nothing but a distracted denial.

  But Nohen had walked back onto the bus with a bag of gummy bears in hand and it was like he’d purchased a god damned diamond ring or something. Emerson wanted to earn that reaction from her.

  Nohen searched his features, and Emerson let his true concern show through. He wanted the best for Lyric, even if she only put up with them until the end of tour, he wanted her to be as happy as possible. The only problem was, she didn’t even know what she wanted to be happy, and he suspected the root of it lied in the issues her mother had planted.

  But even so, he’d do everything he could to try.

  Maybe he was playing pack, like his old band used to. Maybe he was being foolish, giving into the little urges to spoil her.

  But he couldn’t help it, and he didn’t want to.

  If this all ended and he was playing pack? He’d play the part of the best damned alpha she’d ever met.

  The weekend they’d spent in the hotel was the most radiant he’d ever seen her, the most open. He wanted that for her all the time. He wanted to fulfill her every desire… even if that desire was aimed at another alpha.

  Or beta.

  He glanced down at Nohen, who sighed.

  “I don’t know. I don’t think she views me as a threat, so maybe she thinks it’s… platonic?” He winced as he admitted the last word.