Page 98 of Lyric & the Heartbeats

Can you blame me? her inner voice whined as she risked a glance in Nohen’s direction.

Oblivious, he was swiping his thumb over the joystick on the controller, scrolling through the many games loaded onto the system.

Her gaze latched onto the way he casually brushed the pad of his thumb over the tiny, smooth silicone knob.

It was far too easy to imagine the same motion over parts of her body. Her hipbones, her cheek, her nipples.

Lyric scowled at her thoughts and tried to douse the heat staining her cheeks by tipping the bottle to her mouth and drinking.

“Thirsty?” Emerson asked softly, the single word escaping on a chuckle.

Lyric accidentally shoved her right elbow into his side.

Yes. Accidentally.

His soft oof brushed against her cheek and she ignored it.

“Oh, let’s play this one!” Nohen said, excitement lacing his tone.

Lyric glanced up, the name of a game on the screen she’d never heard of. It looked… complicated.

“Here, you guys play this round, I’m happy to sit on the sidelines and cheer.”

Passing the controller to Emerson, Lyric pulled her legs beneath her on the couch and leaned back, content to watch them battle it out. It also gave her a moment to study them uninterrupted. With their sole focus on the game, she was free to stare to her heart’s content.

First, her gaze leapt to Nohen. His tongue peeked out from his lips, concentrating on the screen, and he was a picture-perfect representation of focus. Instead of hunching over, he was sitting tall, his back straight as he wiggled the controller back and forth, thumbs flying over the buttons.

Lyric cocked her head to the side. “Nohen, something tells me you’re experienced at gaming.”

An explosion came from the television, and her studious gaze crawled to the screen, reluctant to leave the beautiful beta.

“You could say that,” Nohen drawled in shameless victory.

Lyric rolled her eyes as Emerson cued up another round with a grumbled, “We’ll see about that.”

When her observation was left without further explanation, she returned her gaze to Nohen. His dark curls were bunched atop his head, a few coiling over his forehead. The angles of his face were both sharp and soft at the same time, something about his features, his beauty, drawing her to wonder if he had Egyptian roots.

“I guess you could say I’ve played a few games,” Nohen admitted softly.

She cocked her head, taking longer than necessary to remember what the conversation was about.

“Yeah? Did you grow up playing them?”

“Pretty much,” he answered.

His vague response made her realize just how little she knew about him, and he garnered her full attention.

“Where’d you grow up?”

“Here and there,” he answered reluctantly. “We moved around a lot, so I was never in one place for too long. I grew up everywhere.” He shrugged. “I wish I had a better answer, but there was no cul-de-sac full of childhood friends. Just me.”

Lyric frowned and uncrossed her legs to stand before the urge to curl up in his lap had registered with her brain. She paused with her palms flat on the couch and adjusted her seat to cover up her mishap. The urge to comfort him settled hard in her chest.

“That sounds… lonely,” she offered sympathetically.

“It was sometimes. I played a lot of video games and connected with other players who had too much time on their hands, who used the games to escape their own lives just like I did.”

“Quit making her feel bad,” Emerson growled. “Tell her you had friends.”