Page 111 of Lyric & the Heartbeats

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.

“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.