Page 70 of Lyric & the Heartbeats

Shifting on the mattress, she willed the fuzzy feeling in her stomach to go away.

She unclipped her pen from the spine of the book and uncapped it with a click. But as she placed the felt tip to the paper, she paused. The ink dot expanded while she stared at the blank page. Words circulated in her head, but she couldn’t organize them into the lyrical therapy she often depended on.

Her phone rang, shattering the moment, and she lifted the pen from the paper to swipe the device off the side table.

Andi’s name lit up the screen, and Lyric’s heart squeezed as she accepted the call.

“Hi,” she cooed softly, dragging out the word. “How’re things?”

“Hey, you,” Andi greeted. She sounded tired. “Things are… progressing.”

“Oh, no. How’s she doing?”

Andi was closer with her mother than Lyric had ever been to her own, and losing her was going to be hard.

“About as well as can be expected. She’s just… so much older than I realized. I still think of her as the woman who’d put her cat in sweaters and send me pictures of Mittens every other day.”

Lyric would have found humor in the memory, but Andi’s voice was too tinged with sadness. “She’s still that person, Andi. Maybe she’d like to see some of those pictures? Do you still have them?”

Andi let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah. Of course I do. I made her that calendar, remember? She probably still has it somewhere. I’ll dig it out and show her.”

“Keep me updated, okay? I wish I was there with you.”

“Me too,” Andi said with a sigh. “Thanks. Anyways, distract me. How was the first night of tour? Is Henry driving you crazy yet?”

Lyric chewed on her lip. Andi didn’t need to know about her mishap with Emerson.

Oh, is that what we’re calling it now?

Tracing a scratch on the cover of her notebook, Lyric was determined to keep her voice level. “No, no Henry’s fine. He’s great. The show was amazing, except my monitors kind of fizzled out halfway through. Overall, not so bad. But Henry handled it fine. Great, even,” she rambled.

Andi was silent for a long moment, long enough for Lyric to smack her forehead with her palm.

Idiot.

“That’s… great,” her best friend deadpanned into the line.

“Yep. Peachy-keen!”

“So… he’s hot, huh?” Andi asked, a smile in her voice.

Lyric groaned and face planted on the bed. “He’s so hot Andi. You know how I feel about alphas, and he’s… he’s such an alpha.” She deepened her voice to mimic Henry’s. “Don’t forget to take your suppressant. Lunch is at two thirty. I set your alarm already. Be backstage at seven forty-five. Don’t run off.”

Well… that confession was certainly better than the other one.

Hearing Andi’s cackle made her lips curl. For just a moment, she’d made Andi laugh even though she was going through something no one should have to.

“It sounds like he’s actually doing a great job,” Andi teased.

Lyric grumbled dramatically, pulling another giggle out of Andi.

“Really, I’m glad he’s not so bad. And hey, if being a little sexually frustrated is the worst thing that happens on tour, blessings, right?”

Lyric went pale even though there was no way Andi would know what she’d done. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she agreed, trying to play it off.

She could almost sense Andi’s eyes narrowing as she paused. “That is the worst thing that’s happened so far… right?”

“Yeah. Totally. Sexually frustrated, it’s just the worst.” She let out a nervous laugh. I suck at lying.