Page 101 of Lyric & the Heartbeats

He didn’t purposely glance to Lyric for the last phrase, but she had been the one to break the buddy system before. He knew he was in trouble when she arched a brow at him, challenging.

After getting chewed out by the label reps, he was tired of being in trouble, and he dismissed everyone with a short, “Just be careful. I’m room B, for whoever ends up as my roommate.”

Probably Nohen.

It only made sense that Desi and Lyric would room together, and Adra and Emerson were already fucking, so they’d stick together just for the ease of each other’s company. Which left him and Nohen as the odd ones out.

He hoped Nohen liked whiskey.

Two hours later, the sun was down and the stars were sparkling, or at least they seemed like they were sparkling. It was probably just a mixture of his tired, watery eyes and the alcohol fuzzing his vision.

He wiped the sleep away and yawned, swirled the whiskey and ice together, and then swallowed the last sip.

“This is good,” Nohen murmured quietly, staring down at his own glass as if it held the answers to whatever question he’d been contemplating since joining him on the cottage-esque porch.

He was lying, and Henry called him out on it.

“Okay fine, you’re right, it’s not. But thanks for sharing, even if it is from the quick stop down the street. It’s for convenience, not taste.”

“What? You have more expensive tastes?” Henry teased.

“Maybe,” Nohen said with a shrug.

The door behind them scraped open loudly, announcing its age in the squeaky protest of movement.

“What are you guys doing out here?” Lyric asked as she shut the door with both hands and a soft grunt.

It shattered the illusion of a quiet night, but it also stomped out the awkwardness that had bloomed in the silence between him and Nohen. The beta was lost in his thoughts, and Henry was too tired for thoughts.

He turned toward her, glancing over his shoulder as she paused just outside the sliding doors of the tiny bed and breakfast.

Henry was rocking in one of the porch chairs, and he rested his foot against the planks to stop the back and forth motion.

“Enjoying the night air. Drinking,” he said, tipping his empty glass at her.

“Whatcha having?”

“Convenience,” Nohen muttered dryly, and Henry huffed out a laugh.

“Sounds… convenient?” she guessed with a half smile.

“Tastes like it,” Nohen complained, but tilted his glass back and finished off his drink.

The plastic bottle clinked against the glass as he refilled it.

Henry frowned up at Lyric as she drifted closer. Alone.

Does the woman ever follow rules?

“Where’s your buddy?” he asked, knowing damned well she hadn’t brought one.

“What buddy?” she questioned.

It was dark outside, the light from the moon and stars their only illumination, but somehow he knew she was blushing.

As endearing as her embarrassment was, Henry growled, “Your buddy. Because of the buddy system. You know, where you don’t travel anywhere alone.”

Lyric crossed her arms, the fabric of her long-sleeved shirt covering her hands and whispering her frustration like a secret. “I didn’t need a buddy because you’re down here. Look, there are two of you.”