I figured they would have agreed to anything at that point if their baby would just stay home. Maverick and I weren’t going to complain or whine that they weren’t spending the same amount of money on us. We were just as desperate to keep Monroe close as they were.
After thinking it over, my sister finally gave in, but only if she got to leave for Italy right away. Two days later, she was on a plane bound for Rome. I didn’t like that she was going on her own, but she’d been adamant it was the only way she was agreeing to our parents’ compromise.
The absence of Monroe sat heavy in my chest, but it was only for a few weeks and not the months upon months I’d have had to endure if she were at freaking Princeton.
But it wasn’t just my sister I was missing. Lyric was constantly on my mind, and oddly enough, my heart hurt more when I was thinking about him being out of my life than it did when I thought of the girl who was my other half. Which was ridiculous. It was as if my heart was broken…
No. That wasn’t it at all. It was as if my heart was missing. As if I’d left it beside him back in that bed in New York City.
Dad was so glad Monroe was going to be staying home for college that he seemed oblivious to the fact that I was fucking miserable. But Mom didn’t.
“What is wrong with you?” she demanded as we set the table for dinner two weeks after Monroe left. “You walk around this house like you don’t have a friend in the world. River just left and I know you two are going to get into trouble later, so don’t bullshit me that you don’t have anyone to hang out with.”
“I just miss Monroe.” Not a lie. I did miss her, but that wasn’t why I felt like I was slowly hemorrhaging to death.
I’d deliberately not gotten Lyric’s number because I knew I would have been tempted to keep in touch with him. I thought it was best to have a clean break. But I was kicking myself for it now. That didn’t stop me from looking at his social media pages, though.
He was working at Branch House of Ink. His Instagram was full of all the work he’d been doing the last few weeks. There were plenty of pictures of him with his back to the camera, bent over a new masterpiece of epic proportions, but nothing of his face. I was so starved for the sight of his face that I sometimes looked at his twin brother’s pages.
But it wasn’t the same. Every time I looked at Luca, I was able to tell the two of them apart more and more. If I saw the two of them on the street at a distance, I knew I would be able to tell who was who.
Mom stood at the table, her hands full of the casserole she’d made for dinner, her eyes seeming to look right into my soul. It was something only a mother could do to her child, overlook the lie and see straight through to the truth.
After a moment, she set the glass dish on the table. “You miss him.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, a lump filling my throat.
“So, call him,” she commanded, as if it were that easy.
“I don’t have his number,” I choked out before clearing my throat. With a shrug, I walked over to the counter and grabbed the salad I’d made earlier as if it was no big deal, trying to hide the fact that it was an effort just to stand under the pressure of my aching heart.
“You can’t talk to him on all those social media sites?” Mom asked skeptically.
“He has messages disabled,” I told her as I set the salad bowl on the table. I had been so damn disappointed when I realized sending him a message wasn’t possible. Not that I could blame him. He was a freaking celebrity. No doubt, he would be driven crazy by all the random people trying to talk to him.
“Do you know anything about this guy? Where he lives? Where he works?”
“I know where he works,” I assured her. “He’s a tattoo artist at Branch House of Ink.”
“Holy shit, really?” Her voice was full of awe. “He must be amazing.”
The area where my heart was supposed to be contracted, and I touched my fingers to the ink hidden under my shirt. “He is,” I whispered.
Mom was quiet for a moment before finally muttering something under her breath.
“What?” I hadn’t heard what she said, but she was looking at me like she was debating something.
“You girls are going to be the death of me, you realize that, right? Monroe wouldn’t tell me what was going on, but I know that girl was running from a broken heart. It was why I gave her the chance to run as far as she could without sending your dad into a total emotional meltdown. And even then, it was a close call.”
“She wouldn’t tell me anything either,” I grumbled, hating that my other half was leaving me out. But then again, she always had when it came to the stalker.
“Maybe you should run toward your broken heart, though, Mila.”
“I don’t have a broken heart, Mom,” I told her honestly. “My heart is…missing.”
“Ah, honey.” She walked around the table and wrapped her arms around me. “I know how that feels. Really, I do. Which is why I want you to go and get your heart back.”
“What?” I cried, looking at her like she’d lost her mind, even as excitement and hope bubbled in my veins. “You mean that?”
“Go for the weekend. Have a little fun.” She gave me a big squeeze before releasing me. “And this time, make sure you get his damn number.”
“But what about Dad?” There was no way he was going to be on board with me flying to New York for a weekend to meet up with some guy who might not even want to see me again.
She exhaled heavily. “It wouldn’t be the first time I lied to him for you, Mila. And as long as I tell him you went to visit a friend—and leave out where this friend lives—it wouldn’t really be a lie. Now, would it?”
With a happy squeal, I threw my arms around her neck. “You are the absolute best mother any girl could have. I love you so much, Mom.”
“I love you too, Mila.” She kissed my cheek then nodded toward the table. “Let’s get this table set. Your dad will be home soon. After we eat, you can pack while I get you a plane ticket.”
◆◆◆
Maverick drove me to the airport the next morning. I’ve never been a bubbly person before, but I annoyed him half to death on the drive because I was practically dancing in the passenger seat with excitement.
By that night, I would get to see Lyric again. Not a picture of him from the past, or one of his twin, which only annoyed me because Luca was not my Lyric.
My brother grumbled that I’d been replaced by a doppelganger because I’d gone from moping around the house to so happy I couldn’t sit still overnight. I couldn’t blame him. I hadn’t been myself since we’d come back from New York. But maybe once I saw Lyric again, and we figured this thing out—maybe even decided we could play the whole long-distance relationship game—I wouldn’t be so moody.
Mav pulled to a stop at the front entrance of the airport and turned to glare at me. He looked so much like Dad, it was scary at times. For the longest time, Mav hadn’t known how to handle his height, and it wasn’t until he was sixteen and started lifting weights that he’d begun to fill out. But even when he’d looked like a scrawny bean pole, River couldn’t keep her hands off him. “You better be careful. And if you need anything, call Garret. He’s the only one I trust in that city to help you if you run into trouble.”
“What’s he going to do?” I asked with a snort.
“He might be younger than us, but the kid is resourceful.” Leaning over, he hugged me hard. “It’s going to be weird as fuck with both you and Mon gone. What the hell am I supposed to do without either of you around?”
Spending nine months in a womb together had bonded us. Maverick might go his own way and do his own thing most of the time, but he would be eternally connected to both Monroe and me. The three of us needed each other to survive just as much as we needed food and water.
I hugged him back, inhaling his scent to hopefully get me by for the next few days I was going to be gone. The comforting smell of his cologne calmed me, and I smacked a kiss on his cheek befo
re pulling back and reaching for the door handle. “Love you, Mav. Stay out of trouble.”
“That’s my line, Mil,” he said with a smirk. “Be good. Don’t do anything that will get you arrested.”
Blowing him a kiss, I grabbed my purse and carry-on out of the back seat of his car. But then I was sprinting inside, too excited to get on that plane to spend extra time telling my brother how much I loved him.
Chapter 10
Mila
I was a confident person, so being assailed by nervousness was a rare thing for me. But it seemed Lyric brought out that kind of vulnerability in me.
I didn’t even check in to the hotel where Mom had made a reservation for me. I hoped I wouldn’t even need that room once I saw Lyric, so it would have been a waste of money anyway.
From the airport, I grabbed a taxi to Branch House of Ink. It was already dark out by the time the driver pulled up outside the posh brownstone. A piece of welded metal on the sidewalk in front of the building held a plaque talking about Dustin Branch. I barely glanced at it before my eyes drifted to the front window.
The glass was frosted, offering privacy. Masculine black script across the frost declared this Branch House of Ink with an OPEN sign turned on.
Clenching my fingers around the handle of my carry-on, I walked up the few steps to the front door and stepped inside.
Rock music played quietly through discreetly placed speakers. The lighting was soft, almost intimate. An elegant sitting area was off to one side, and a woman with the most beautiful mocha skin I’d ever seen was sitting behind the reception desk.
“Welcome to Branch House,” she greeted in an oddly soothing voice. I almost shivered as I looked at her, imagining her using that voice to lure sailors to their death like the beautiful siren she was. “May I help you?”
Pushing down a fresh wave of nervousness, I smiled at her. “I’m here to see Lyric.”
Her golden eyes glanced down at my carry-on with a knowing grin. “He’s a popular one with the ladies today, that’s for sure. First, the sweet little blonde, now you.” Shaking her head, she nodded toward the back. “Go on back, sweetie. He doesn’t have a client for another half an hour. Third door on the left.”
Ignoring the comment about the “sweet little blonde,” I walked around the desk, leaving my case where it was. All that was in it was clothes and a little makeup, so it wasn’t like I was worried it would get stolen.
As I walked back to where the artists worked, I passed a few open doors. In one, a woman with bright pink hair was inking some guy’s back. His shirt was off, and his arms were sleeved up in mostly black with a few splashes of red and yellow here and there. His head was turned away from the door, and I thought I heard him snoring over the buzz of the tattoo gun and soft music.
Lyric’s laugh coming from several doors down stopped me in my tracks. The sound warmed something in me that I hadn’t realized was cold, and I pressed my hand to the center of my chest, my fingers brushing over his key.
Needing to see him, touch him—taste him—again, I forced my feet to move me forward. But before I could reach the third door on the left, I heard a gentle voice coming from the same room where I’d just heard Lyric laughing.
“Ric, are you sure I won’t bother you while you’re working?”
“You would never bother me, Vi.” His deep voice reached me. “I only have one client tonight anyway. Once I’m finished here, we can grab some dinner and head back to my place.”
Jealousy hit me like a freight train. Ric? I instantly hated the shortening of his name. Clenching my jaw, I took the last few steps that would allow me to glance into his room. From where I was standing, I could see them, but they weren’t looking toward the door and didn’t see me.
A blonde sat on a table like the one on which the sleeping guy was getting inked down the hall. Lyric sat on his rolling chair, between the blonde’s legs, his forearms on her thighs, his head slightly tilted back to look up at her. The place where my heart was supposed to be clenched at the sight of him, only to squeeze so hard it was difficult to breathe. “I only have you for a few days, Vi. Of course I want you here with me while I’m working. I want to spend as much time with you as possible.”
“I was worried about you,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his forehead. “You’ve been too quiet lately.”
“I’m glad you came. I’ve missed you so damn much, sweetheart.”
Swallowing hard, I stepped back when I sensed the blonde’s head was about to lift. My eyes burned, but there was no way in hell I was going to cry. Fuck that. I refused to cry over a guy I never should have let my heart get attached to in the first damn place.
Turning, I walked back to the front and grabbed my carry-on. “Thanks,” I muttered to the receptionist, unable to meet her gaze. “But do me a solid and don’t tell him I was here.”
“No sweat, sweetie.” She gave me a wave, and I walked out the door into the humid summer air.
The loudness of the city, the bright lights, the smells of exhaust and garbage felt like they were overloading my senses, turning my stomach. Clenching my teeth against the overstimulation, I breathed through the wave of nausea and flagged down a passing taxi. Giving him the name of the airport I’d flown into earlier, I dropped back against the seat and closed my eyes.
Why did I even think Lyric would be missing me like I missed him? We’d both agreed it was a one-night thing. I should have accepted that. No doubt, he’d had plenty of other girls in his bed since me, and it looked like the pretty blonde with the sweet voice was the one who would be warming it tonight.
Fuck, but I was stupid. Flying thousands of miles to see a guy I’d only known for a few hours was ridiculous. Assuming we might actually have a shot at a relationship… I was an idiot. What had been special for me was just his normal Friday night.
My head was throbbing by the time I got back to the airport. My return ticket was for a first-class seat, but one scheduled for a flight in three days. The woman behind the ticket counter offered to exchange it for a flight that left in forty-five minutes, but first class was full. All they had left was a seat in economy, but I didn’t care.
All I wanted was to go home and forget about New York City and Lyric Thornton.
Chapter 11
Lyric
“This place is beyond small,” Luca observed as I drove through town on the way to my new shop.
“I like it,” I told him as we passed some diner called Aggie’s.
It had taken some time, and a little help from Aunt Emmie, but everything had been finalized the week before. When I’d called my aunt the same day Mila had left me, Emmie had thought I’d lost my mind when I told her what I wanted her to do for me.
Buy me a house in Creswell Springs, California, and find out if the only tattoo shop in the county is hiring—and if not, ask if he is willing to take on a business partner.
Thankfully, Mila had given me that much to go on, and it had only taken a Google search to find out the name of her father’s tattoo shop.
The house had been easy enough for Aunt Emmie to acquire. She’d found a two-story, four-bedroom close to the local high school. It was in a nice area, even if I’d only met a few of my neighbors; those I had were friendly and welcoming. Getting Masterson to let me work for or with him was another story.
Nothing was going to stop me from doing what I loved and being with the girl who had ensnared my heart.
When Masterson had continued to refuse even after Aunt Emmie tripled the generous original offer to buy in to his business, I’d gotten frustrated and finally told her to find me a space near the local university to open my own shop. College students were always looking for a new tattoo, and I would give Mila’s dad a run for his money with the local clientele. On top of the client list I’d picked up working at Branch House of Ink, I knew that would have Masterson scrambling to get me to join forces with him if he wanted to keep his business prospering.
And b
ecause I wanted to be with Mila and make her happy, I would. But not until I made him sweat a little.
While my aunt was busy getting my new life ready to go for me, I still had to work out the three months on the contract I had signed with Dustin Branch. I’d enjoyed working there the short time I had, and I’d learned a shit-ton of skills from my mentor, but it was hard as fuck being so far away from Mila when all I wanted was to see her every minute of every day.
Now that I was in the same town as my girl, I finally felt like I could breathe deeply again.
I’d see her soon, I promised myself. And then I was never letting that girl go again.
“It takes you like ten minutes to get from your house to the shop across town,” my brother grumbled. When I glanced down at my phone’s screen docked on my dash, it was to find his face scrunched up in distaste. “I bet there isn’t even a McDonald’s around that place.”
“There is.” I turned my gaze back to the road. “But it doesn’t get a lot of business. That diner I just passed is where everyone seems to eat around here. I haven’t tried it yet, but I was thinking of stopping there for dinner tonight.”
“Dude, do not chance it. You’re going to end up with food poisoning or a parasite.” He blew out a frustrated sigh. “I still don’t understand why you had to go to some backwater town in NorCal. If you wanted to set up shop in a college town, you could have come here. This place has a college and a pro team. It’s basically party city all week long, and you would have been booked up two years in advance once you got established.”
“I told you why,” I reminded him, driving past city hall. As I passed, some guy with short dark hair stepped out of a police cruiser that said SHERIFF on the side. He wasn’t wearing a uniform, but his eyes narrowed on me.
Savoring Mila (Angels Halo MC Next Gen & Rockers' Legacy Book 3) Page 6