Page 107 of Lyric & the Heartbeats

“So, finish telling me what you were going to on the bus,” Lyric said.

Nohen’s lips parted, but Lyric beat him to the punch.

“And don’t change the subject this time. Why’d you move around so much?”

Nohen shrugged. “My mom did a lot of work with omega centers all over the country. We followed her wherever she was needed.”

“And that’s why gaming was so important, huh?”

Nohen drew one knee up and rested his arm on it, then stacked his chin on top of that. “Yeah. No matter where I moved, whenever I got home, my real friends were just a swipe away.”

“Do you still keep in contact with any of them?”

Nohen felt his cheeks heat. “Uh… not really. I drifted apart from most of them after high school.”

A soft pressure feathered against his side, and it took him a moment to realize it was Lyric pressing closer to him, sensing his discomfort.

“How come? That’s so sad.”

Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe he was just tired of trying to relate to Odd’s and Emerson’s tales of couch surfing and van riding.

“I threw myself into video games all through school, got… exceptionally good at them. I went pro at twenty.”

He ruffled a hand through his hair, torn between avoiding the surprise on her face and wanting to puff out his chest with pride.

“Went pro as in… you were a streamer or something?”

He nodded. “Basically. I streamed myself playing, but mostly I competed. I had sponsors and everything, and it was fun for a while.”

“What happened?” Lyric questioned, laying her arm on his knee. “Why’d you quit?”

“I found music. At first it was a hobby, but then I realized it was something I could see myself doing for years. And it was… challenging.”

“Gaming wasn’t?”

Nohen waved his hand back and forth. “It could be, sure. But once it felt like I got to the top, for lack of better phrasing, it wasn’t the same. I missed the days when it was just my friends and I playing for fun.”

“You got to the top? What do you mean by that?”

Lyric mimicked his posture, propping her head on her knee and staring at the ground. She slid her empty glass back and forth, leaving behind a trail of condensation.

Running a hand over his neck, he wavered over telling her everything. He didn’t want her to worry about him trying to ‘take care of her’ like she always assured them she could do herself. But in the end, he didn’t want to hold anything back. “I placed in the top bracket two or three times and came first once. So…”

“You were pretty good then! I’m sorry I hadn’t heard of you before, but I don’t really follow that kind of stuff.”

“Actually, I’m glad you didn’t. It’s hard to have any kind of relationship with someone when you can’t tell if they have good intentions—”

“Or if they have ulterior motives,” Lyric finished.

He sent her a soft smile. The fact that she knew firsthand what he was talking about made his chest ache. “Exactly.” He nodded to her glass. “When we get back on the road, I’ll have to introduce you to something better than this.”

Lyric pinched her lips together as she glanced at the glass. “I think I’ll pass.”

He chuckled. “I promise it tastes better. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying the finer things in life.”

He was treading on thin ice. Just one wrong comment, just one slip, and he’d have to admit the truth to her.

Maybe subconsciously, he was doing it on purpose, trying to bridge the gap he’d felt widening between them ever since she and Emerson had gotten involved.