Lasting Lyric (7 page)

“Okay,” he puts his hands up in defense. “Well, what about tonight? How are you going to handle sleeping by yourself?”

Now he goes back to sweet and it makes me chuckle. “I’ll call if I need a cuddle,” I joke, then give him a wink. “Bye, Hot Stuff. I’ll be over tomorrow.”

“Promise?”

“Yes, I promise. See ya.” On that note, I finally exit the truck and leave in hopes of not calling him tonight. Sleeping all warm and safe in Slim’s arms was the best sleep I’ve had in months. I just hope I don’t get addicted to it - to him.

IT WAS A GOOD VISIT
with my dad today. He really liked Lyric, which wasn’t surprising. She’s not hard to like -
very
hard not to like and that’s what’s getting my feelings for her all mixed up. Seeing her comfortable with my dad did crazy things to me. I couldn’t be near her, yet I wanted so badly to sit by her side, hold her hand, or slip my arm around her shoulders. It was a natural setting, all three of us, talking, joking and playing chess; like we were a family. I really enjoyed it, but I distanced myself from touching her. One small touch and my dad would definitely know I had deeper feelings for her. But…he was right though, I care for Lyric way too much. I am not being stubborn. I have my reasons for keeping my feelings a secret. What if something happened between us and then what? She’d quit. There is no way she would stay with the band. I won’t do that to the guys. She is fucking great at her job. I would be selfish to even try to start up something with her. So…yeah…my feelings will have to take the high road.

After getting back to my house, I didn’t expect Lyric to run off. Something was weird with her. I don’t know, maybe I was overthinking and jumping to conclusions. Her up and leaving so quickly disappointed me. I wasn’t ready for her to leave. All sounds in my truck and garage were quiet. It was so quiet, I wanted to take charge, sweep her up and never let her go. Crazy, fucked up feelings. I couldn’t do it. Just couldn’t.

Feelings will take the high road.

I really don’t like being alone. Sucks being alone. Wayne has been gone way too long, there’s nothing to do at night. We used to be like Joey and Chandler, from
Friends.
We each have our own recliner so we can sit back and enjoy our oversized flat screen TV, watching whatever the hell we like. It’s always been just me and him; we’ve been best buds for a long time, it’s weird not having him here. Wonder what it will be like when he and Melody get back from Puerto Rico? A married couple living with a single dude. Sounds weird just thinking about it.

I’ll give Jason a call. He’s the only one I know that doesn’t do shit. Unless we’re all out together as a band, Jason pretty much stays inside his apartment, doing…I don’t know what. He’s like a hermit or something.

I recline back in my recliner, crossing my ankle over the other. I give Jason a ring. “Yo,” he answers on the first ring.

“What’s hangin’ bro?”

“Nothin’, just chillin’ playing some tunes. What about you?”

“Not doing anything. I’m fucking bored, so you wanna hang out? Order a pizza, watch a movie?”

“Sure. Your place or mine?”

“Still living in that shit hole with no furniture?”

“I’ll be over in a bit. Order that pizza, asshole. Extra cheese and pepperoni.”

“On it.” I hang up. That was quick.

No one ever goes over to Jason’s place. His apartment is located in a crappy area and he lives pretty much like shit. No furniture, not even a bean bag to comfort your ass. It’s fucking pitiful. I don’t understand why he won’t find a better place to live and get some chairs. It’s not like he doesn’t have any money. We’re making some pretty heavy dough nowadays. Well, anyways, Jason grew up poor. His parents’ were worthless pieces of crap and used to beat Jason to a pulp. They sold drugs, took drugs and now living the rest of their lives in prison. He had a shitty childhood. I guess, living the way that he did, he thinks he doesn’t deserve nice things? But that’s Jason. He’s says he’s comfortable and happy, we just have to take his word for it.

By the time Jason gets here, the pizza arrives. I get out a couple beers, hand one over to Jason and take our pizza box to the living room. Jason sits on the sofa while I make myself comfortable in my recliner. Love this chair. Hands down the best thing I ever bought; a man needs a good chair to kick his feet up and relax in. After taking several bites of my pizza and guzzle down half my beer, I bring up Lyric.

“Lyric is back.”

“No shit?” Jason comments, with pizza in his mouth.

“Yeah. Saw her last night, then took her over to meet my dad today.”

“She okay?”

“For the most part, yeah. Had some PTSD shit happening, but other than that, she’s good.”

He grabs another slice of pizza and mutters out, “Glad she’s back for your sake.”

Okay, what
? I tilt my head. “What the hell does that mean, man?”

“Nothin’,” he shrugs. “Let’s watch a movie.”

“You think I have the hots for Lyric?” Which I do, dammit. Can’t say anything though. But, is it that obvious?
Shit.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t need to,” I point at him. “I know it’s what you’re thinking.”

He sighs, as if he’s totally bored. “Chill out, and turn on the TV.”

“I don’t have the hots for her,” I respond back, defensively. “She’s our manager.”

“She’s also one of your best friends.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So…you guys have chemistry. You click,” he shrugs, like it’s no big deal. Which is a big fucking deal. A big deal for me because I know we do. We totally click. We’ve got crazy ass chemistry. Jason continues, “For someone who gives good fucking advice to everyone else, you sure have a hard time following it. Now put a movie on.” He grabs the remote off the coffee table and throws it in my direction.

“For someone who doesn’t talk a whole lot, you sure have a lot to say.”

“Denial,” he mumbles.

“Whatev,” I mumble back. It’s not denial. It’s just the way it has to be. “How about an old flick, like
The Terminator
, or
Shawshank Redemption
?” I click on Netflix.

“What? No
Steel Magnolias
for ya?”

“Steel what?” I chuckle out. “You numb-nugget, I don’t watch that kind of shit.” Secret between you and me -
Steel Magnolias
is da bomb. Makes me cry every time. Can’t help it. I am a big fucking softy when it comes to chick flicks. The only one who knows this is Wayne. He likes them too. The guys would have our nuts if they knew we loved that shit, though.
Secret. Zip.

“Stop right there.
Black Hawk Down
. Let’s watch that.”

I stop scrolling and click play. “Cool. Wanna ‘nother beer?”

“Yep.”

After opening our second beer, we relax and watch
Black Hawk Down
- and maybe I played a few games of Candy Crush
in between. Jason was too into the movie to even notice.

Halfway through the movie, Jason doses off - drank too much - so I grab a blanket, throw it over him and go to my room. It’s eleven o’clock and I am still wide awake. I slide into bed, place one hand behind my head and scroll through Twitter. The fans are still raving over our album. It’s been out for over a year, and continues to be in the top ten on the music billboards. Pretty epic. If it weren’t for the bus accident and Wayne getting married, we’d be working on the next album or making plans for our next tour. Next week by this time, Wayne will be home and we can get back to work. I’m tired of doing nothing.

A text from Lyric pops up. I knew she couldn’t hold out on me.
“I hate you.”

I bite back a laugh and text back,
“Hello to you too, Charlie.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Having nightmares?”

“Yes.”

I pause, briefly, because I am not sure Shooter will like this very much. It’s going to be difficult not being able to dig inside Lyric’s panties.
“You want me to come over?”
I don’t receive anything back right away. She knows she’s lost and won’t admit she needs me.
“Hey, you still there?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what? You’re still there, or you want me to come over?”

“Come over.”
I can totally see her rolling her eyes, and the thought of it makes me laugh.

“Sit tight. I’ll be there in a flash.”

I quickly get out of bed, put on a shirt, pack a small overnight bag and leave Jason snoozing on the sofa. I know I am just screwing with myself, taking care of Lyric, but she needs me. I won’t leave her alone feeling scared. That’s what friends do right? We help each other out. So…I am helping a friend out - a really close friend who I want to have sex with.
Fuck.
There, I said it. I want to have sex with Lyric. End of story.

Before getting out of my truck, I clutch onto my steering wheel, and take a deep breath. The thought of laying next to her again…
Shit. Fuck. Damn
. I can do it though. I am here as her friend, nothing more. However, the second she opens her front door, all that friend crap is forgotten. That’s because she’s got on a two piece satin jammie set that does wonders to my imagination. Even though her jammies have pink and purple cats printed all over, I can’t keep my eyes away from her cami top where her belly button is very much visible, and is sexy as fuck. Her little satin shorts, to match her top, show off her long ass legs. Smokin’ hot, those legs of hers. They go a mile long and turn me the hell on. My eyes sweep her tall frame and land on her tits. The perfect set of perky tits I have ever seen; round, grapefruit sized tits with nipples protruding through.
Get your fucking mind out of the fucking gutter, asshole
!
I have to stop, but I can’t
.
Even her face is beautiful! No makeup, blue eyes popping out, pink plump lips, slightly wet and her hair - God I love her hair - done up in a braid and hanging over her left shoulder. How did I not see this beauty before the bus crash? I was fucking blind.

Just act cool, man. Act cool. Appear like she isn’t making your dick hard.

“I’m waiting for you to say I told you so,” she crosses her arms, and leans against the door frame, looking down at her feet.

“Why would I say that?”

She shrugs, still avoiding eye contact. “Because you knew I wasn’t going to sleep well.”

Without thinking, I pull her in for a hug. Her arms automatically go around my neck while mine plant perfectly around her waist. I love the feel of her chin hitting my shoulder. “I wasn’t going to throw it your face, Lyric. I’m not that cruel,” I softly say, then continue half jokingly, “However…I knew you couldn’t stay away from me all night long. You love my cuddles too much.”

She immediately pushes me away. “Good grief.”

I lightly laugh, “Come on Charlie, let’s get you to bed.” I walk inside the house and tug her hand behind me, leading her to her bedroom.

Lyric lives in an oceanfront home in La Jolla Beach. The second you leave your car, the smell and sounds of the ocean invade your senses. Her house is white, two stories with a kickass view of the ocean. When you enter her home you feel comfortable and at ease. Everything she owns is either white or baby blue - to match the feel of the ocean, I guess. Lots of beach themed pictures, and knick knacks are placed on the walls and shelves; different shades of blue throw pillows and blankets are thrown onto the two piece, sectional, white leather sofa, which is the main focus when you walk in. A white, wooden coffee table takes up the middle of the space. It has a few magazines placed on top, a couple of framed pictures of her and her family - one with a dog - and a little blue metal tray sitting in the middle, with a clear glass vase filled with white flowers - maybe daisies? The awesome fireplace and the mounted TV up above seals the deal for me. Nothing better than cozying up with one of those blankets, in front of a fire and watching a movie…or having sex on that sofa with a hot woman wearing cat jammies.
Shit.
I won’t go into detail about her kitchen or her bedroom, because they’re the same feel as the living room, but I will say Lyric’s white, four poster, king size bed is out of this world, awesome.