Page 119 of Lyric & the Heartbeats

Lyric was snared in the trap of his gaze, all warmth and concern and offered comfort. So much more than she expected, hoped for, and she didn’t know what to do with the relief in her chest. Throwing herself at him for a hug seemed like too much. Tightening her hand around the table edge, she fought the urge and finally settled for a soft smile. “I will,” she promised.

Henry searched her gaze for a moment longer, time stretching on as everything around them seemed to pause, a strange limbo where their surroundings waited for what came next.

“Alright. When do you want to tell the others?”

The moment dissipated like the steam off the dark pool of her coffee, and she shrugged. “As soon as possible would be best. Maybe once everyone wakes up.”

But waiting for them all to trail into the main area was torture. One by one, everybody woke up and eventually came in search of coffee. Nohen was the last one to join them, taking his seat beside Emerson and handing him a controller.

“Maybe you can kick my ass since I’m still half asleep.”

Emerson scoffed, glared, and eventually snatched the controller out of Nohen’s hand. “Fine.”

Lyric tapped her finger against her mug. The second cup of coffee was probably a mistake, only adding to her nerves, but she couldn’t help it. A nudge against her arm pulled her out of her head, and she snuck a glance over at Henry. His single nod was enough to settle the pressure in her chest momentarily, and she replaced the weight of her decision with a deep breath.

“I want to stop taking my suppressants,” Lyric announced. Her gaze couldn’t decide whom to land on, whose reaction she wanted to take in first.

Emerson shrugged. “Okay, that’s cool,” he commented and elbowed Nohen. “Ready for a rematch?”

Nohen snorted. “Think you’ll finally win? Doubtful.”

Lyric’s cheeks flushed as everyone continued eating breakfast and drinking coffee as if she hadn’t spoken. Movement caught her attention, and she glanced over to see Henry hiding a chuckle behind his hand. She narrowed her eyes… only to let it go.

Her shoulders relaxed, and she let the tension fall away.

They didn’t care if she was on suppressants or not, Henry was right. It wasn’t that big of a deal.

She glanced over and studied the alpha. He held up his mug in a salute, and she let her lips curl into a smile.

“Javier? You’re back?” Lyric asked, her voice carrying to Henry a few seconds before she came into sight.

She sat up on the couch, and Henry balanced the tray of sauces the chef had thrust at him when he’d come to collect lunch during their stop.

“Turns out I’m here for the next few weeks, pajarita.”

“I thought it was just a one-night thing?” she questioned, cocking her head. Her cheeks flushed at the phrasing, but Henry hid his smile behind the tray before he met her gaze.

“Yeah, the label wouldn’t approve it for just one order. For the rest of the tour, however…”

Lyric blinked once, her lips slowly curling into a smile as Javier situated the pile of lunch wraps on the counter. “So you’re here for the next three weeks?”

“Yeah, why not?” Henry asked, handing the sauces off to him. “Their menu seemed expansive enough, and if what Andi said was true, they were the best place in town.”

“Andi’s a smart woman, whoever she is,” Javier declared and passed a plate to Lyric.

She thanked him before settling back on the couch, taking her first bite with a smile.

“So we get to eat this for the next four weeks?” Emerson asked, munching into the wrap halfway through his question.

Henry chuckled. Yeah, Lyric wasn’t the only one who’d enjoy their chef’s presence.

“That’s the idea,” the chef offered. “Well, not this exactly,” he continued. “I can make pretty much anything on or off the menu. I’ll take requests and suggestions any day.”

“You can make anything, really?” Lyric asked. The excitement in her tone only solidified Henry’s judgment. He’d made the right decision. Their omega was happy.

“Are you sure about this?” Henry inquired once again.

Lyric nodded eagerly, though the smile on her face seemed a little forced.