Page 72 of Lyric & the Heartbeats

“Keep tellin’ yourself that,” Nohen muttered, sending her a wink.

At first, Lyric wanted to press the issue, demand to know more details, but their body language told her more than she could’ve pried from their lips. They were shoulder to shoulder, faces scrunched in concentration, elbowing each other as their characters on the screen ran through a battle zone. Lyric sat on the couch, watching them play and murmur lighthearted insults at one another, but it was Nohen who had the ultimate victory, and he wasn’t going to let Emerson forget it.

“Again,” Emerson demanded, reaching over to try to begin the next round from Nohen’s controller.

“What? No!” he shouted, stretching to dangle the controller out of Emerson’s reach. “Let me have this win!”

Lyric enjoyed their playfulness a little too much. Especially as Emerson planted one hand behind Nohen’s back and leaned over the beta, his arm extending past Nohen’s to rip the controller from his grip. And she wasn’t the only one, if Nohen’s flushed cheeks were any sign. He glanced back at her, behind Emerson’s head, and the blush deepened.

Lyric shrugged and held her hands up innocently, as if to say, see, it’s hard, isn’t it?

A knowing smile curled his lips and he took the controller from Emerson before they dived back into the game.

Lyric was so accustomed to the silence of her own apartment, it surprised her that she enjoyed the background noise of the video game and listening to Adra and Desi have a discussion, though she wasn’t following it. Even Henry, who typed away at his computer, added to the… homey atmosphere.

Deciding to make the front room her hangout for the time being, she stood from the couch to grab her phone from her nest. But as she passed the fridge, Henry’s voice cut through all the noise.

“If you’re returning to your nest, grab a bottle of water to drink, please,” he said. He didn’t even lift his gaze from his laptop, the screen still reflecting in his glasses, as if bossing her around was an afterthought.

Lyric stopped in the middle of the walkway, narrowing her eyes at the empty space in front of her. Her first instinct was to continue past the small fridge and straight to her nest. But she was an adult.

So she settled for mocking him silently as she opened the fridge door and pulled out a bottle of water.

She even returned to the front room with her phone, where she sat on the couch and responded to emails and texts and managed her social media.

Her gaze returned to Emerson and Nohen again and again, as if waiting for the moment their smiles turned to snarls.

Lyric didn’t need to be causing tensions between the band. Nohen had given Emerson a black eye! And it was all her fault for giving in to an impulsive decision.

For thinking like an omega, instead of an artist with a reputation on the line.

Lyric scowled at the truth her subconscious spat, but she agreed.

She just had to keep her hands to herself, and her resolve stronger than… than the seams on Emerson’s button-ups.

And Lyric held fast to her new rule. She walked off stage with all that energy thrumming in her veins, and after dutifully informing Henry, she retreated to the bus for a shower to wash the sweat off. Then, like the good little musician she was, she wrote in her notebook for a bit before fulfilling her nightly call with Andi, listening to her best friend vent. Hearing about her mom struggling usually dampened Lyric’s mood enough that the pent-up energy was smothered under the wet blanket of empathy.

The following night was much the same. And the night after.

Sing. Shower. Rinse. Repeat.

Lyric tried not to think about the other ways Emerson was working out his energy. Tried to ignore the way his cheeks were usually still flushed when they all returned to the bus. Purposely turned her head away from the little touches he and Adra shared.

The hickies on Emerson’s collarbones, only visible when he wore a specific gray tee with a worn-out collar, were mocking her.

Lyric cursed the moment they all returned to the bus as much as she looked forward to it. Hearing their voices filter through the thin walls was comforting, but she’d never ask them to spend more time cooped up on the bus than they had to. If she was really that desperate for company, she could always go to the green room after the show.

Whereas Lyric sought solace in the bus, buried in her nest, the others seemed only to return when they absolutely had to. Then again… she had a nest. They had bunk beds.

When Lyric did finally join them in the main room, the familiar heat she’d come to associate with Emerson simmered beneath her skin. She ignored it, wanting their company more than she wanted to get fucked.

Okay, so maybe that wasn’t entirely true, but it wasn’t as if Lyric could take Emerson to the floor right then and there. See? Even with her omega needs acting up, she had manners.

As they fell into their nightly routines, she cozied up in the corner of the couch with a blanket and did her usual rounds of email and social media checking.

When she crawled into her nest alone once everyone had gone to sleep, it was with a tiny bit more pride.

The next night on stage, she danced as much to the music as she did away from the heat in Emerson’s gaze. She let the music carry her around the stage, seeking refuge from the intensity of the memories as she approached Nohen.