Page 102 of Lyric & the Heartbeats

“Did you know we were down here?” he countered, already knowing the answer.

“No…”

At least she hadn’t lied.

“The rules are in place for a—you know what, never mind. I’m too tired tonight,” he said softly.

His words might have scraped past his lips a little harshly, leaving a bitter taste and chapped flesh behind.

“I’m sorry, that sounded harsher than I meant it to,” he apologized, but it did little to erase the aftertaste of her bruised feelings. Especially as silence descended over the porch. Nohen’s and Lyric’s gazes latched onto him with twin glares.

He blamed it on the lack of sleep. The stress.

She’d be fine out here, and his bed was calling his name anyhow.

He watched Nohen’s gaze trail from Henry to Lyric, his shoulders relaxing a notch just from her presence. Maybe she could pull the beta from his troubling thoughts, whatever they might be.

“I’ll turn in, you guys feel free to share the rest of the bottle,” he said, pulling himself from the chair slowly, the weight of the silence almost too heavy.

“Your generosity never ceases to amaze me,” Nohen drawled.

“Don’t get used to it,” he retorted, setting his glass on the banister. The condensation raced down the sides to leave clear streaks in the mosaic of water beads and pool around the base. That was how Lyric’s presence felt. Refreshing. Clearing away the chaos of the day to make room for things that didn’t hurt his brain.

It made him want to stay, but he wasn’t one to linger where he wasn’t wanted.

Henry looked up the long, winding driveway hidden by the trees and nodded to himself. They’d be safe enough out here alone. There were no neighbors for a while, at least according to the host, and the trees would do well enough to protect their privacy.

“No, it’s okay,” Lyric finally said just as he stepped away from the banister. “I’ll go back inside. Didn’t plan on staying long anyway… Just figured Desi wouldn’t want me creeping on her conversation with Amber.”

Nohen’s smile, lit dimly in the lamplight from inside the home, remained perfectly at ease, except for the minuscule tightening around his eyes. Not surprisingly, he didn’t want Lyric to leave either.

“No, it’s okay. Really. Stay,” Henry insisted, turning to face her.

She was already half turned toward the door when his words registered, and she paused.

That tiny tell of hesitation made him reach for his glass, fingers smearing the honeycomb of condensation as he offered it to her.

“Have a drink. You can share with Nohen.”

“What he said,” Nohen interjected, and scooted the plastic container with amber liquid across the planks of the porch.

“Really?” she asked suspiciously. “Why does this feel like a test?”

Henry’s lips twitched, and he leaned one elbow on the banister, still holding the glass out. “On any other night, maybe it would be. But you’re safe. For now,” he added.

The flush on her cheeks was too much fun to put there.

Nuh-uh. Don’t go there.

His subconscious was always the smarter one.

With suspicion narrowing her gaze, Lyric took the glass from his hand, her warm touch ghosting across his skin chilled from the ice.

“Thanks,” she murmured, and a carefree smile drew her lips up as she took the bottle from Nohen.

The ice gently clicked against the sides of the glass, but in the silence that preceded it, the sound might as well have been an avalanche.

Lyric wasn’t one for silence.