Page 67 of Lyric & the Heartbeats

That was what he was afraid Lyric didn’t understand. He did fucking cherish what she had shared with him.

Not only her body—he wasn’t a fucking neanderthal—but all that stuff about her mom? He wanted to scoop her up and protect her.

Hell, she’d pulled a purr right out of his chest there at the end. He’d barely managed to choke it back, but that was physical proof of just how she affected him.

Yeah, he fucking cherished her, okay?

Probably a whole lot more than he should.

Lyric scrubbed Emerson’s scent from her body. From her hands and her hair and her lips and from between her thighs.

But no amount of scentless soap would wash away the feel of his hand over her mouth, the scratch of the brick against her back, the fullness of his cock as he moved inside her.

She pressed her palms to her eyes and groaned, trying to block it out, but it was no use.

I had sex with Emerson.

Had. Past tense. Won’t happen again.

The realization made the ball of anxiety in her chest loosen, made her breaths come easier. She was still in charge. Just because it happened once didn’t mean it had to happen twice.

Even if everything was off its axis, Lyric knew one damned thing for sure.

Fucking Emerson was a one time, height of adrenaline lapse of judgment, a terribly timed moment of weakness. But most importantly, it wouldn’t happen again.

She would not be the needy omega her mom had tried to force her to be.

Once she talked herself down off the ledge and washed as much of their mixed scents from her skin as she could, Lyric wrapped herself in a towel and intended to lock herself away in her nest and stay there until her presence was absolutely required.

Color her surprised when she opened the door to find Desi sitting on the couch, flipping her drumstick in the air and catching it again. And again. And again.

Her cheeks heated the longer she stood there, knowing the beta was likely there for one reason.

“Want to talk?” she asked softly, sliding a politely blank glance in her direction.

Lyric’s first instinct was to say no, but she nodded her head before she even realized she’d moved. Then Desi was herding her to the back of the bus, pausing as Lyric unlocked her nest with her key fob.

But the beta paused at the door as Lyric approached her wardrobe.

“It’s okay if I come in, right?”

Desi’s dull, soft scent of flowers was about as nonthreatening as it could get, and Lyric motioned her in. “Yes, please. You can sit on the bed.”

Once the door was securely closed, and Lyric was comfy in butter soft yoga pants and a big tee, she joined Desi on the big bed… and remained silent.

“Do you really wanna talk and just don’t know where to start, or just want company?” she inquired after a moment. “I’m good at being company.”

Lyric chewed on her lip, weighing the answer in her mind. “Both?”

“Both it is. Did he hurt you?” she asked first.

The thought made her skin itch. “Absolutely not,” she said, shaking her head.

“Fair enough. Was it good?”

Heat bloomed in her cheeks as flashbacks struck her senses like lightning.

“Almost too good,” she admitted softly.