Lyric & the Heartbeats

by Kole, Lana

  He heard her breath hitch and stole her next sigh with a kiss.

  “Well, I got you something too,” she said as their lips parted.

  Henry frowned. “What? That’s not how this works.”

  With a giggle, she regained her footing and pulled away, motioning for him to stay put. With a furrow between his brows, and a niggle of curiosity, he pulled out Lyric’s present and sat it on the table. It was wrapped in fancy pink paper thanks to the store, and he leaned against the table as he listened to Lyric mumble and grumble before a shout of success came from her nest.

  “Found it!” she called, beaming as she practically skipped back to the main room. “Ooo, pretty,” she said as her gaze locked on the shiny paper of her gift.

  She stuck out a small box about the size of his palm, and slapped it in Henry’s hands. “Happy kidnapping,” she said.

  Henry arched a brow. “Excuse me?”

  “Just open it.”

  With a roll of his eyes and a pinch of curiosity, he opened the small box and blinked.

  A set of matching watches gleamed in the tiny plush bed, and he glanced up at Lyric. “Matching watches?”

  She beamed as if she expected a reward and nodded. “Yep. We can play with them later, but they’re smart watches, and they’re linked. You can send me reminders, and I can share my location, and we can share calendars.”

  Henry’s lips twitched. “Easier to keep you on track.”

  It was Lyric whose eyes took a trip around their sockets. “Yeah, yeah. I figured you’d like that aspect.”

  Henry stepped close, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Thank you for this. It will give me peace of mind on the next tour that I’ll be able to keep a closer eye on you.”

  Lyric grinned and stepped on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. “Can’t have my manager stressing about everything. Figured I’d help out a little.”

  “Thank you,” he said again, quieter. His heart ached with the sentiment. She trusted him enough not only to bond with him—which hadn’t happened yet, but he was biding his time—but also to share her location with him. He was pretty sure six weeks ago, Lyric would have kicked his ass at just the prospect.

  “Love you,” she murmured against his lips.

  His breath caught, and he sat the box on the table to pull her close, to wrap her in his arms. He never wanted to let her go, and he would never be more grateful to Andi for letting him sub in for her than he was in that moment.

  “I love you too, Lyric.”

  She wiggled out of his arms and tapped the table. “Present?”

  He nodded, lips twitching. “Present.”

  She unwrapped the pink paper messily, and he held in his chuckles as her mouth dropped open. “You’re not serious.”

  “I’m dead serious,” he said, holding in a laugh.

  It was a water bottle, an expensive one with lines on it used for tracking one’s ounces. “It’s sixty-four ounces, which is the recommended daily amount of water intake. I—or one of the guys—will fill it up for you each morning, and I expect it to be empty by the time you crawl into bed. You’ll only have to empty one bottle instead of two now.”

  “Or what?” Lyric challenged, the little brat.

  He smirked. “Do you wanna find out?”

  Her fingers tightened around the water bottle and she went a little breathless, her cheeks pinker than normal. “Hell yeah.”

  Henry was two seconds away from scooping her up and carrying her to the back room for a demonstration, but the door to the bus opened.

  “There you are. Finally,” Nohen grumbled. “You should’ve told me you were coming back to the bus so early, I would’ve beaten you here and—oh. Am I interrupting something?” He finally caught on to the tension in the room, holding a bag behind his back and taking a step backward.

  Henry chuckled. “No, it’s probably for the best that you did.”

  Nohen’s cheeks flushed. “Sorry, Henry.”

  Lyric gaped and tapped the table. “What about me? You’re only sorry to Henry—oh, is that another present?” she asked, dropping her tease and sitting down on the couch before making grabby hands. “Nohen, you’re so sweet.”

  “As sweet as our omega.”

  Henry’s phone beeped, and he sighed before pulling the device out. “I have to go check on something, so I’ll leave you guys to it. If you need anything,” he said, pulling one of the matching watches from the box and slipping it over his hand, “beep me.”

  It turned on with a chirp, and he grinned down at the digital box. “Thank you again, Lyric.”

  He dipped down for a kiss, and she ran her hand through his hair before releasing him. “Go attend the crisis. I’ll be here.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he teased.

  Henry left the bus with his heart more full than he could remember it being in a long while.

  And all because of Lyric.

  Damn, he was one lucky alpha.

  As Henry left the bus, Lyric watched him go before turning her attention to Nohen. She didn’t know what it was, but she felt especially clingy today. She motioned for him to come sit beside her, and she cuddled up to him as he placed a gift bag on the ground.

  “I brought you something,” he said.

  Lyric could already scent the bath items and grinned up at him.

  With hours until the final show, they’d made it. Through six weeks of tour. From strangers in an audition to… this. Lyric gazed up at Nohen.

  Truth be told, she hadn’t ever been the spoiled type. Her mother certainly hadn’t been one to treat Lyric with any favors. Always claiming it was an alpha’s job to spoil her.

  Well, now she had four alphas. And a beta.

  Suck it, Mom.

  Pulling the bag close, Lyric heard jars and bags crinkle within, and arched a brow. She couldn’t deny she was enjoying the hell out of opening presents. Christmas hadn’t been a very big celebration in her household growing up, and even less so after she learned Lyric was an omega.

  Sweet, floral, and gentle scents reached her nose as the bag rustled, and her gaze trailed to Nohen. He would be the one to buy her these kinds of things.

  “We don’t have a tub,” she commented as she reached in and pulled the first bath bomb out.

  “Yet,” he argued with a wink. “We will.”

  Her heart flipped over in her chest. “Is that a promise?”

  “Sure is. Once we get everything figured out, we can look for a place with one of those fancy clawfoot tubs.”

  “A big one, fit for two,” she teased.

  “Damn right,” Nohen agreed.

  Lyric smiled at that, and smelled each bath bomb and bubble mix, unable to conjure words that would do the emotions flowing through her justice.

  “No more scent-erasing body wash, huh?” she teased.

  Nohen cleared his throat. “Of course. Everyone will know whom you belong to.”

  For once, that phrasing didn’t bother her. Instead, something in her warmed at the declaration. And kept warming her.

  She cuddled up to Nohen, spent a fraction of the afternoon snuggling her beta and talking about all the plans once tour ended. It was crazy to think that in just a handful of hours it would be all over, and the plans they were dreaming about would be a whole hell of a lot closer.

  But she felt… restless. And was on the verge of asking Nohen if he wanted to go for a walk before the bus door opened again.

  Adra and Emerson appeared, spied the open present and the tissue paper, and crossed their arms. “So we’re doing this now, huh? I thought we agreed to wait.”

  Nohen flushed guiltily, and Lyric watched them bicker with stars in her eyes. “Well…” Nohen began. “It’s the last day of tour. I wanted to surprise her, but Henry beat me to it.”

  Adra hummed, reaching up to scratch at his cheek. “I have a surprise too. Would it be okay if I gave it to her now?”

  Lyric sat up. “Yes. I can confirm she’s okay with that.”

  Her chest
ached in the best way as they chuckled, and her cheeks flushed. Maybe she could get used to this spoiled thing.

  “I’ll be right back,” Adra murmured, and walked past them to the bunk room. Rustling followed, and Emerson folded the table into the floor to open up space for them before taking a seat on the opposite couch.

  When Adra returned, Nohen shuffled and stood up. “I’ll give Adra the spotlight,” he said against her lips before retreating to Emerson’s side.

  Adra cleared his throat before he sat on the couch beside her, a simple, thin brown box in his hands, about the size of a small canvas.

  “You really didn’t have to,” she said softly.

  With a shrug, he handed her the box. “I know. But I wanted to. You deserve to be spoiled, Lyric.”

  Emotion got stuck in her throat, and she swallowed sharply before focusing on the simple brown paper wrapped box in her hands.

  The brown paper tore easily, and she ruffled the wispy layers of tissue paper until the treasure was revealed.

  And what a treasure. It took her breath away. She froze with the box lid in one hand, and a layer of flimsy papers in the other. “Adra,” she breathed.

  She would have lifted her gaze to his, but it was glued to the piece of art in her lap. On a piece of textured paper were gently drawn lines and short strokes of gray that twined and twirled to make a depiction of… her.

  Lyric stared down at her own shape, at the image of herself through another’s eyes, and her heart pitter-pattered to a clumsy beat. Color had been added to the drawing, blushes of pink and swatches of cream and splashes of the prettiest orange color to make up her hair. Lyric had only ever felt as magical as she looked in the painting on stage. And Adra saw her like that while she was sleeping? With her hand tucked under one cheek and hair cascading over her shoulder.

  “This is beautiful,” she whispered. She finally set the lid of the box down and turned to meet her alpha’s gaze. “When did you do this?”

  He shrugged, though his cheeks darkened as he avoided her gaze. “A few days ago. When you fell asleep on the couch.”

  Embarrassed was one of her favorite shades of Adra. “You see me so differently than I do myself.”

  Worry filled his gaze. “In a good way?”

  A laugh tumbled from between her lips, and she reached up to share her humor with him, brushing their lips together. “Yes, silly. That’s a beautiful painting. Thank you. You’re so talented.” She kissed him again, unable to resist the sweet smile curling his mouth and the embarrassment flooding him.

  She studied the painting again. Lyric could see how much love and care and talent went into each stroke of the pencil and each dab of paint. Only Adra would be able to take Lyric, who definitely drooled when she slept—most of the time—and turn that ghastly image into something so beautiful.

  Where could she put it? Somewhere she could show it off, probably, but part of her wanted to keep it just for herself. Would he let her frame it?

  Well, for now…

  Lyric grinned and grabbed the painting, stepping around Adra, and pulled a magnet off the fridge with a click. “This will have to do for now,” she said proudly, placing the paper against the chilly surface and laying the magnet over one corner. “It deserves the spotlight.”

  Adra grabbed her from behind, and Lyric let out a girlish shout as he pulled her back down onto the couch. “You deserve the spotlight. But I’ll have to show you my sketchbook one day if you liked that one so much.”

  Lyric’s heart stopped. “Really?”

  “Sure. Why not?”

  “I’ll show you my lyric book,” she promised. If he was willing to show her something so private, she could do the same.

  His breath ghosted across her neck as he leaned down and painted a kiss on her shoulder. “Deal.”

  “You guys know I’m happy with you, right? I don’t need all these bells and whistles.”

  “Yes, we are aware,” Adra answered softly. “This is just part of the process.”

  “What process? Bonding?”

  “Courting.”

  Lyric almost snorted. They’d lived together, fucked, bonded, and now they were courting her?

  “Doing things a little backwards, are we?” Lyric meant it as a tease, but Adra frowned, his lips curling down in a way that made Lyric’s heart swell.

  “If we had met under different circumstances, I like to believe I’d do things in the right order, so you’d know just how much you mean to me.”

  “To us,” Emerson corrected.

  Lyric’s heart pounded. “I didn’t mean it like that. I love what we have. All I mean is—”

  “I know,” Adra said. Lyric curled into him and pressed a kiss to his lips before he continued speaking. “We all know what you mean. But it doesn’t change the fact that we are aware things happened a little backwards here. That just means we’ll be taking you on a lot of dates once we get home.”

  “Makeup dates,” Nohen clarified.

  Lyric grinned, turning her head into Adra’s chest and inhaling. She shifted on the couch again, melting into him. “Makeup dates. I like that idea.”

  In that moment, Lyric understood a bit about why her alphas liked to see her in their clothes. She wanted to walk the streets with them on her arm so everyone knew whom they belonged to. They were her alphas.

  “Since this is our last show of the tour…” Emerson’s voice echoed around the venue, and all eyes turned to him.

  Lyric would have flinched on his behalf, but her eyes were too busy bugging out of her head as a spotlight clicked on, illuminating Emerson and all his mysteriousness.

  What the hell was going on?

  Lyric pulled out her in-ear monitors, giving her ears a break as Emerson continued speaking. “I wanted to do something a little special for Lyric.”

  The crowd cheered, and Lyric pasted a grin on her face. Confusion doubled down until she didn’t know left from right, but the nod Adra sent her was comforting.

  “Besides kicking Nohen’s ass at every video game possible—”

  “Lies!” Nohen shouted into his mic.

  Emerson’s chuckle rang out through the venue, and Lyric could practically hear panties dropping to the floor. She hid her own laugh behind the back of her hand, certain stars were shining from her eyes as she stared at Emerson.

  Someone tapped on her shoulder, and Lyric turned to find Henry. He sat a stool down on the stage and nodded. She took a seat like a good omega, and he took her microphone before placing it back in its stand and leaving the stage.

  “I’ve found a lot of time in the middle of the night and during our days to write. Think. Reflect on how I got here and who I met along the way. And with that cheesy introduction, Lyric—” He paused, met her gaze, and winked. “This is your other gift.”

  She must have missed the transition from bass to acoustic guitar, and she darted her gaze to Adra, but he was gone. Desi’s drum stage was empty, and Nohen was nowhere to be found. Up there on the stage, surrounded by stained plexiglass, was just her and Emerson.

  And several thousand witnesses, not to mention all of her hometown friends, but Lyric refused to think about them.

  Emerson wanted her attention, and he sure as hell got it.

  He strummed the guitar, a hauntingly beautiful chord ringing through the venue amps before he began to sing.

  Her ‘other gift’ was a song. A ballad. A confession.

  Lyric’s cheeks pinked, her entire body heated, and she reached down to grab the water Henry had left her. Even better, she rested her cheek against it, staring dazedly up at Emerson.

  Her heart pounded, her mouth went dry, and her fingers itched to run them through his hair, grab a fistful and pull his mouth to hers. She wanted to devour those beautiful lyrics, those intoxicating words straight from his lips and get drunk on them.

  She loved him. Lyric was certain of it.

  As the end of the song curled around her, the notes blanketing her like his warmth often did, she
got to her feet and drifted over, stopping on the other side of the mic stand. He sang the last few words into the mic, and as they echoed around the venue, he grabbed the stand, swung it to the side, and wrapped his other arm around her waist.

  Lyric fell into him, conscious of the guitar between them, but not much else as she offered her lips to him. He swooped down and took her offering, wiping the thoughts from her brain and any words from her lips as they kissed.

  Whistles from the crowd, cheers, clapping, it all faded away as she parted her lips beneath his.

  “Guys…” Nohen’s worried voice pulled her out of her daze, and she leaned back with a dopey smile on her lips. “Let’s not give them more than they paid for, right?”

  Lyric giggled. “Right, sure.”

  Emerson grinned, tipping his hat at her, and hid his blushing cheeks from the crowd by exchanging guitars with a stagehand.

  She felt drunk as she made her way back across the stage, sharing a smile with Henry as he removed the stool. He cocked his head at her, and she wrapped her hands around the mic stand to steady herself, waving him off.

  Lyric giggled again, glancing down at the stage floor and taking a breath. Then she lifted her head, gazed out at the crowd, and admitted, “I am one lucky omega.”

  Lyric was too aware of the gaze stuck to her from side stage, and she turned to share a smile with Andi. Her friend had seen better days and slept better nights if the dark circles under her eyes indicated anything, but Andi assured her she was taking it one day at a time. Now that Lyric was back in town, she planned to do her best to take care of her in any way the stubborn purple-haired woman would let her.

  The crowd cheered, and their screams became muffled as she put her monitors back in. It was as if she’d dunked her head under water, hearing everything from a distance though they were right in front of her. The thrum of the bass line began their next song, and she let it flow through her. Like giddiness had been since she’d opened her first gift.

  As she parted her lips and let her voice ring out through the venue, the music curling around them and the audience to wrap them all up in a single mesmerizing moment, Lyric was the happiest she’d ever been.