Lasting Lyric (3 page)

“I’m not. It’s the truth.”

“I can’t listen to this anymore, just open up your front door and let me in.”

I shoot up from the chair, obviously surprised. “What? You’re fucking here?” I shout.

“Yes, dumb dumb, I’m here.”

“Shit!” I snap. “Why didn’t you say something? God, you’re so weird, you know that?” I quickly go the front door, frustrated, irritated and happy. This woman is going to make me go crazy.

As I open the door, I see her immediately take the phone away from her ear. She jabs a finger at my chest and grunts out, “Don’t call me Charlie.”

I stuff my phone in my back pocket and grab her by the arm. “Get the hell in here,” lightly yanking her inside.

Behind her back she pulls out a thing of margarita. “I have margarita,” she sings out with a big smile on her face.

I shake my head and mumble, “Crazy woman.”

She walks past me. “Hey, be nice or you won’t get any.”

I follow her into the kitchen, clearly pissed. “Put that shit down and give me a hug, yeah?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” she giggles.

“Lyric,” I snap, warning her I was not in the mood for any teasing. She finally complies and allows me to wrap her in my arms. The second she enters my embrace, I feel electricity shoot throughout my body. I haven’t felt this before with Lyric. It’s new, which kinda freaks me out a bit. Yet I really like it. Her head hits the end of my chin as I rest it on top and close my eyes. I take a couple breaths, letting this new feeling sink in. She feels really good in my arms. “Glad you’re okay,” I softly express.

Her arms remain wrapped around my middle, resting her head against my chest. She squeezes me. “I’m okay. No more worrying.”

“Really though…you almost died. I was going out of mind with worry. All of us were.”

She pulls away from me. I wasn’t ready to let go -
damn.
She leans against the counter, crossing her arms. “I am so sorry, Slim. I should have called when I was in London.”

Crossing my arms too, I reply, “Yeah, you should’ve.”

“The truth is…I had some post traumatic stress from the accident. It seriously threw me in for a loop. It was hard to deal with. I couldn’t even talk to my own parents’, so I went to London and talked with a therapist. Don’t get mad, but I told June to not say a word. I was not in a good place, and still dealing with the after effects, but it’s not as bad. I am much better now. I just got back a couple days ago.”

Even though I would have appreciated June telling me what was going on, I had to respect her keeping Lyric’s wishes. I couldn’t blame her for that, but a little something, anything would have eased my mind. “You could’ve told me all that in a text, you know. Instead I was thinking I’d never hear from you again.”

“Really…I’m sorry,” she sincerely replies. “You’re stuck with me, once again. And I am here for the band, okay?”

I keep my arms crossed, not saying anything back. I am enjoying watching her squirm from my brief silent treatment. She’s quite cute standing there, biting her lip, worried that I am not going to forgive her. She’s wrong though. I believe her and quickly remove my scowl. I nod my head and uncross my arms. “Good. Now pour me a margarita, Charlie.”

“Sto -”

I place my finger on her lips to shut her up. “Ah…nope. You’re going to put up with your newfound nickname. Deal with it.” She rolls her eyes, like I knew she would, and moves around the kitchen like she owns the place. She takes out a couple glasses and pours us each a drink.

Once poured and filled, we move into the living room. We take a seat next to each other on the leather sofa. I move close to her, laying my left arm across the back of the sofa; the tips of my fingers brush along her shoulder. I like the contact with her, always have, but this time it’s slightly different. I don’t know if I have always had these feelings for her. Subconsciously maybe, but not seeing her, not talking with her for so long did crazy shit to my head. Wonder if she’s feeling it too?

Lyric props her left leg underneath her ass, turns toward me, and takes a drink of her margarita. She taps my leg, which shocks my cock. I seriously didn’t expect that to happen.
Damn. Just…holy damn.
I had to quickly adjust myself without her noticing. “Okay, so fill me in. Where are the newlyweds?”

After secretly adjusting and downing a bit of my margarita, I respond, “Still in Puerto Rico, on their honeymoon. They’ll be back next week.”

“I’m sorry I missed the wedding.”

“Yeah, so am I. I had to dance by myself.”

She nudges my foot with hers. “Stop it, you did not,” she chuckles.

“Yep,” nodding my head. “Everyone, except
muah
, had a partner to dance with.” I really was bummed out Lyric wasn’t around during the wedding. It would have been nice to see her in some type of formal gown looking incredibly beautiful. We both missed out. I snap my fingers to get myself back on track. “Oh wait…Wayne’s five year old niece felt sorry for me and decided to step in, so yeah, that was fun.”

“Aw,” she lightly laughs. “That must have been too adorable. I bet she loved it.”

“She’s a cutie, but way too young and short for me,” I shrug, then take another drink.

“Seriously though, you were by yourself?”

“Nah, pulling your leg again,” nudging her like she did with me. “There was Peta, June’s friend.”

“Oh.” Her eyes widen. I don’t think she expected me to bring up Peta. I won’t read too much into her reaction, though. “Good. Glad the night wasn’t a total failure.”

“Yeah. Thank shit for Peta, she’s hot.” Even though Lyric wasn’t around to dance with me, Peta was a good distraction. I totally had the hots for her, but later on in the evening she disappeared. She got pretty wasted, so maybe she got sick and left?

“Isn’t she, like, engaged or something?”

“Yeah, thought so, but I didn’t see a ring on her finger. So, who knows?”

“Yeah. Who knows,” Lyric mumbles. She looks down into her drink and plays with it, by swishing the ice cubes around. Again, trying to not read too much into her reaction. It could be just my imagination, but she may have been a bit jealous.

To break this weird mood, I decide on food. Suddenly I have an appetite for pizza delivery or Chinese takeout. “I’m pretty hungry. You up for pizza or Chinese?”

“Mmmm…Chinese. Can’t pass up orange chicken.”

“Orange chicken it is then.” After I order the Chinese, I refill our glasses. I sit back down beside Lyric and take another long drink. I actually put a couple extra shots of silver tequila with mine. Need to relax a bit. I have no idea why I need to relax. I’m usually not on edge like this.
The hell is going on with me
? Lyric scoots herself closer into my side. I slide an arm across her shoulders and take in the silence. “It’s good to have you back, Charlie.”

She leans her head in the pit of my arm.
Feels too good
. “It’s good to be back, Hot Stuff.”

“Hot stuff,” I chuckle. “Yeah, I guess I could get used to that. No doubt I’m hot.”

Lyric laughs. “Ego much?”

Changing the subject, I ask about her trip to London. “Tell me about London.”

“Not much to say,” she shrugs. “I didn’t do anything special. Mostly stayed in my room and rested.”

“Really? No sightseeing?”

“You’re forgetting my parents’ are mega stars. I’ve been there dozens of times. So…you know. I don’t get too excited about it anymore.”

“Yeah, I guess I can understand that. Speaking of, I can’t wait to go there on tour some day.” The guys and I talk about touring in Europe all the time. We’re really hoping in the next year or so we’ll have that chance. It’s another way for me to go back to Ireland and visit my mom. Though, I’m not sure why I didn’t take this break to go see her? Feel like such a jerk over it. I miss her.

“It will happen. I’m working on it.”

I can sense her smiling after saying that. It seems she always knows what the band wants. Her and June make things happen. They come through for us all the time. “You rock.” My arm still hangs loosely around her shoulders. I squeeze her, allowing her to snuggle deeper into my side. “Feels nice, just sitting here with you. No one around. Quiet.” Shit, where did that come from? It’s true though. Being here with Lyric feels right and normal. I’m comfortable with her. She’s comfortable with me. I’ve never had a best friend who was a girl before. Yet somehow she fits perfectly in my life.

She looks up at me. “It does.”

I look down at her. There’s a change in her light blue eyes. Something is there; want, need, hope. Something is changing between us. The air in the room is getting pretty thick - thick with wanting me to kiss her. “Uh…”
Damn.
No, this shit cannot happen. No way can I kiss her. We’re best friends. She’s our manager, one of the guys. I squeeze my eyes, shake my head, and clear my throat. I unravel my arm from her shoulders and immediately get my act together. “….how about a game while we wait for the food?”

Just like me, she shakes off whatever she was feeling and laughs. “Thought you’d never ask.”

I quickly put my drink aside and grab a game from the entertainment set. “Got a new one for ya.” A new Mario game that I know I’ll beat her at. She thinks she can beat me every time. Well not this game. I’ve been playing non-stop since we’ve gotten home. I’ll show her who’s got the skills.

We played for almost an hour and every fucking time I was about to win, she took it from me. Even the delivery of our food didn’t help me regain my strength. I was sucking big time.

Empty Chinese boxes and empty margarita glasses are scattered on the coffee table as we play the last round of the game. I’m getting closer to the finish line.
I can do this shit
! I can finally beat her. However, one glance at Lyric and I lose it - literally. “No, no, no, no, no! Fuck!” I shout, throwing the game control down. I lean on my knees, defeated, yet again. “I am so losing my groove! Is there anything you cannot win at?”

I look over at her. She’s practically on the ground, laughing her ass off. She needs a good spanking.
Hell.
Wrong thing to have a vision of. Once her laughter dies down, and after she has wiped her eyes and gotten herself put back together, she says, “Okay, let me tell you a secret.” She starts to count on her fingers. “I was the president of the chess club, team captain of my volleyball team, the star student who won the spelling bee in the ninth grade, and three brothers who taught me everything I know about video games. Oh and I can’t forget about my little sister, Indie. She and I did a lot of wrestling. She was on an all boys wrestling team and taught me the goods on how to tackle and do a decent take down.”

I just sit here, fucking stunned. Not only is her family world wide famous, with a shit ton of money, they’re also nerds.
She’s
a nerd. How come I am just learning about her
nerdtivity
. Yeah, not really a word, but it fits. “I give up. Shit, seriously? President of the chess club? Spelling bee? You’re a walking, talking nerd-safari.”

“I totally rock at being a nerd,” she lightly punches my shoulder.

“Yeah, you’re the best nerd I know.”

“And don’t you forget it, Hot Stuff.”

Hot stuff
just became my new favorite word. The way she says it does things to my dick.
Shit, not that again
. Need to calm Shooter down. Yeah, I named my junk. Just don’t go telling anyone. It’s between me and Shooter, only.

“Ya know, my dad would get a kick outta this chess thing. He loves playing, but I suck at it.”

“Oh really? Well, I’d love to meet your dad.”

“We can visit him tomorrow,” I shrug. “I’ll call him up in the morning.”

“Sure. Sounds good.”

“How about some TV? Anything you wanna watch?”

“I’m still trying to catch up on
Orange is the new Black
, so how about that one?”

“On it.”

I’ve seen every season of the show, but for Lyric, I’ll rewatch it. Even though I tell myself not to snuggle up beside her, it doesn’t work. We have this rhythm every time we’re together; my arm around her shoulders, her warm body leaning into mine. It’s automatic. There is never any question. We’ve always been this comfortable together. I don’t know how it happened. Well, maybe I do. I remember the time we were on
The
Ellen Degeneres Show
. After we performed and were heading back home in our limo, it was late at night. I remember falling asleep on her lap. I woke up with Lyric combing her fingers through my hair. It felt so good. Ever since then, we’ve had this connection. Back then it wasn’t a physical feeling.
Shit
. Now it is.

After watching a couple episodes, Lyric slowly makes her way down to lying her head on my lap. And this time,
my
fingers are combing through
her
hair. Long blonde locks splay over my thighs, I can’t help but touch them. So fucking soft. Her breathing is deep and even, I don’t want to wake her; she is so at peace and comfortable, but I’m dozing off myself and need to hit the sack.

I whisper, “Hey, sleepyhead.” I swipe the end of her nose with my finger. She stirs awake, blinking a couple times before realizing where she’s at. She pops up as if she had been caught on fire or something. I don’t think she expected to have fallen asleep on my lap, anymore than I expected to like it. She wipes her hair away from her face, obviously still very much tired. “Go ahead and sleep in my bed. I’ll sleep here on the sofa,” I suggest.

“No. I should just go home.” She gets up from the sofa.

Stopping her from leaving, I take hold of her arm. “It’s midnight, Lyric. Go on. Take the bed.”

“I haven’t been sleeping great, since the accident. My therapist said for me to get a dog or cat. Sometimes having someone next to me, someone to cuddle with may help relieve the anxiety that I get at night.”

Was this a suggestion, a plea? I couldn’t tell for sure. “I don’t have any pets, but I could sleep next to you?” What the hell am I thinking? The look on her face tells me maybe I was reading into her all wrong. She looks like I was asking to fuck her. “Don’t look scared, geez,” I chuckle. I hold out my hand for her. “You’re like a sister, so come on.”
Like a sister, my ass
. Her thinking I still thought of her as my sibling seems to relieve her. She finally takes it, allowing me to guide her to my room. “You want one of my t-shirts to sleep in?” Shit, I really need to stop this. Things are flying out of my mouth before I get a chance to think them through. Of course she can’t sleep in one of my shirts. That would mean me wanting to slip my hands underneath so I could glide my fingers along her panties and bared skin.
Stop it, man
!
Just fucking stop
!