Page 47 of Lyric & the Heartbeats

It smelled a lot better than what him and Odd usually tried to throw together. “Who’s going to be cooking on tour?”

Lyric snorted before she outright laughed. “Whoever volunteers.”

Emerson laughed dryly. “I hope you like frozen meals.”

“I know a few recipes,” Adra admitted, shooting Emerson a glare when Lyric turned their back to them.

She was dressed comfortably, which tickled Emerson’s chest in a funny way. In leggings and an oversized dress and bare feet, it was more casual than he’d ever seen her.

Part of him wanted to pick her up and carry her to her nest for… a cuddle.

Yeah. That.

Pfft. Who was he kidding?

He tore his gaze away and eyed the large bay window, studying the other side of the curtains. Emerson wanted to do a lot more than fucking cuddle the omega. He wanted her honey sweet scent to surround him, to suffocate him, wanted to taste it on his tongue and in the air.

Shuffling in his seat again, he stared hard at the curtains as if it was their fault he couldn’t have her.

The thought made him pause. When exactly had his… hate-on as Desi so eloquently named it, shifted into… this? This itching need to protect and keep her for himself? Was it when she finally stopped hiding herself during practice? Or even more recent, like when they were dancing at the restaurant?

Maybe it was everything together growing into one gnawing need.

The question now was when would his urges swallow him whole?

The blinking string lights pulled him out of his thoughts. The way they dangled and twisted around the curtain rod and looped through the rings attaching the curtains caught his eye.

His boots thumped across the hardwood floor as he walked over and pulled the curtains aside with one finger. Their car sat on the street below, and as he watched, another pulled in behind theirs. Nohen turned off the lights and as his car door opened, Emerson played with one of the tiny lightbulbs. It was warm to the touch, but not hot, and some of the tension went out of his shoulders.

“I only turn them on when I’m home, and they’re low heat, if you were about to ask me about fire hazards.” Lyric’s voice carried across the room with a hint of humor.

His reflection in the window arched a brow, but he didn’t turn. He was too busy watching Nohen fix his hair in the side mirror of his car.

He let the curtain fall to the side and faced Lyric and Odd, who were sharing a pair of half smiles. Put them together and you might get a whole one.

“I wasn’t,” he argued.

He totally was. When had he gotten so… alpha about Lyric?

Shit.

“I’ll get it,” he said, just as a muted knock came through the apartment.

His boots thumped across the floor again as he made his way to the front door, and he frowned. “Do you want us to take off our shoes?”

“Do you have stinky feet?”

Emerson turned a glare in her direction before he caught the twitch of her lips and eased his expression. “No.”

“Then yes. You can leave them by the door.”

“Oh, sorry,” he heard Odd murmur, and as Emerson opened the door for Nohen, he kicked off his boots in the security room.

“Hey,” he greeted Nohen.

“Hey, guys,” he responded, following their lead and unzipping his boots. Nohen was dressed down. And by that, Emerson only meant he wasn’t wearing his signature bow tie or suspenders.

Emerson exited the small room and made it back to the kitchen in enough time to study Nohen as he entered the apartment. His nostrils flared and his steps faltered for a split second before his gaze latched onto Lyric.