Page 48 of Lyric & the Heartbeats

“Nohen, hi!” Lyric greeted warmly. “Come sit, the soup’s almost ready. Has anyone heard from Desi?” she asked, waving the beta over before turning back to the stove and removing the lid again.

Emerson cocked his head to the side. Did Lyric even realize she was timing her soup checks with their entrances?

He almost wanted her to close the lid and forget about the soup. They could just feast on her sweet floral scent for the evening.

“Oh, shit,” she hissed. “Bread.”

“Need help?” Nohen offered as he pulled out a bar stool.

“No, I got it,” she replied. She frantically grabbed at a pot holder before pulling the oven open. A wave of heat washed over them, carrying a mix of her scent, the soup, and the dough.

Lyric bent over to pull the pan from the oven with a scrape.

It wasn’t until Emerson righted his head as she stood that he realized the other two were in sync with him.

He shot an amused glance to Odd, whose brows narrowed in annoyance. His lips were parted.

Cracking a smile, Emerson leaned over. “Stop mouth breathing, you weirdo.”

Odd didn’t offer him a response, not that he deserved one. He was poking fun at his ever polite roommate and was having fun doing it.

It reminded him of how not so polite Odd had been just the other night after the fitting appointment. After all that extra time in Lyric’s presence.

Maybe tonight would end the same.

He turned his focus back to Lyric. To her flushed cheeks and the strands of hair blown wild by the puff of hot air from the oven. The smile on her face as she gently patted the top of the cornbread.

Her scent still lingered around them like a tease, and as Odd shifted in his chair to his left, Emerson knew tonight would end much the same.

If not even more intense.

By the time Desi arrived, he almost wished they’d gone out somewhere. Not only was Lyric’s scent still heavy in the room, but now all of their scents were mixing together. It was too natural for them to all gather around the table as his stomach growled, moving plates and bowls and the big pot of soup right to the small dining table.

Emerson sat in the chair closest to the back wall, while Odd squeezed in beside him. Lyric sat at the head of the table, her back toward the living room, which left Desi and Nohen the chairs directly across from the two alphas.

“Lyric, your house is so cute. How long have you lived here?” Desi asked as she served herself a bowl of soup with the ladle.

Thank you, Desi, for asking the questions I am too scared to.

Emerson just knew anything he asked would come off as judgmental or inquisitional.

“Ah… I think I bought it the same year my mom died, so that was about four years ago? Maybe five.”

That perked Emerson’s interest, and he couldn’t help but glance in her direction. “Really? How old were you then?”

He braced himself for the accusation that was sure to follow, but… it never did. Lyric just cut and passed him a slice of the cornbread.

“I was twenty-one at the time.”

“You bought your first house at twenty-one?” Nohen echoed.

At least one of them could speak, because Emerson was speechless.

Lyric’s cheeks flushed as she took the ladle from Desi to serve herself.

That was an impressive accomplishment for anyone, but especially an omega. Had she ever had a pack? Why didn’t she want one? Or maybe, after suffering the death of her mom, she was afraid of losing it?

A frown tugged at his lips as he thought of Odd. He could understand that fear. Ever since Odd had lost his pack, he hadn’t been the same.