Page 152 of Lyric & the Heartbeats

That was what Javier had purred in his deep, velvety voice, and Lyric was too weak to argue.

And that was how she ended up in his van, killing time before stage call and making… pot brownies.

“This wasn’t quite what I had in mind when I said I wanted something sweet,” Lyric teased.

“Oh, this won’t be the only thing we make today, pajarita.”

Lyric melted like the goddamned butter they’d just mixed with the batter at the sound of his voice purring that stupidly cute nickname he’d taken to calling her.

“What does that mean? Pajarita?”

He smirked, his lips twitching into a half smile she wanted to trace with her tongue.

“It means ‘little bird.’”

Lyric frowned, passing him the bowl of dry ingredients upon the crook of his finger.

“Why did you nickname me after a bird?”

Even his chuckle was decadent like the dessert they were making. “There’s not an in-depth reasoning. Birds sing.”

“Oh,” Lyric said softly.

It was simple, but it still made her stomach do flips.

“And the ‘little?’”

Javier stared down at her from his six foot three position with a grin. “Si,” was all he answered.

Lyric shook her head. “Maybe I’m not little, maybe you’re just overgrown.”

“It’s possible. My mother is five-two.”

That meant she was even shorter than Lyric. “And yet she had you,” she teased.

“That she did. I’m taller than two of my fathers now even. I think they’re jealous.”

“Do you have other siblings besides Emma?”

“I do. Here, stir this,” he said, handing her the bowl of dry and wet ingredients. The smell of chocolate drifted up to her and her stomach rumbled.

“I am the youngest out of three.”

“Do you still stay in touch with them even though you’re on the road?”

“Of course. We are all very close. My mother would have a fit if I didn’t call or at least text once a day. They need to know I’m alive, at least that’s what she says.”

“Do you still live with them?”

It was normal for children to remain with their parents as a pack until they were old enough to look for their own.

“Si. I haven’t found my own pack, despite the multiple attempts from my mother to set me up.”

Lyric snickered past the pinch of jealousy she felt. “She wants you out of the house, huh?”

“It seems to be that way. She got her wish, didn’t she?”

Lyric had never thought about what life was like for an alpha. Now that she thought about it, she related and understood Emerson’s and Adra’s situations more. Living alone? Yeah, she got that.