Page 33

“Those two have it bad,” Lyric says as he walks in and proceeds to crack a couple more eggs into the bowl and then stir the mixture vigorously.

“What do you mean?”

“You can’t see it?” Lyric eyes me for a beat.

“See what?” I ask, glancing out the side window and see Fig and Lyric’s grandmother talk is talking.

“They want each other,” Lyric finally admits as he takes out a frying pan and lights the burner. “How can you be so clueless?”

“Clueless?” I snort. “I’m far from clueless,” I lie.

“Oh, okay,” Lyric sarcastically says as he drops a big pat of butter into the pan.

As the butter is melting, he dips a thick bread slice into the egg mixture and then lays it in the frying pan, and the sizzling sound adds to my growing hunger.

He cooks too. Another win for me.

I’m drawn to the smell and the way Lyric is swaying in front of the stove while cooking. My feet are on autopilot, and my front is suddenly pressing against Lyric’s back. I bend my head slightly and nuzzle my face into his neck and inhale. “I’m hungry for other things,” I whisper and kiss Lyric’s skin.

He jabs me sharply with his elbow, knocking me in the gut. I let out an “Oof” and stumble backwards, startled. “What was that for?”

“Did you lose your mind sleeping on the floor? Or did you forget what I said to you yesterday? No sex. Ever.”

“Well, you didn’t say ever. Just that I couldn’t have sex with you in bed last night,” I say with a grin.

Lyric raises a metal spatula toward me and says through gritted teeth, “I won’t have sex with you, Rafe. Get that through your thick head.”

Where he pulled that utensil from, I don’t know, but he surprises me by waving it like a weapon. I move back another step, out of his swinging reach.

“Yeong,” his grandmother says in a scolding tone. I look at her and see Fig standing there with her—I’d been so focused on Lyric I hadn’t heard them come in. By the way Lyric startled, he hadn’t either.

Lyric lowers his hand and looks remorseful. It’s not for his action toward me, but for getting caught in the act. That I’m sure of.

He and his grandmother exchange some words before she strides over and takes the spatula out of Lyric’s hand.

As I watch them talk, Lyric keeps bouncing frowns my way until he finally turns to me and says, “You know what, do me a favor and just leave.” He then storms off.

In that moment, I’m not sure what to do. Then Halmeoni says something to me.

“I don’t understand,” I say to her.

“She says to go talk to him. Show him that you love him,” Ji explains, a stoic expression on his face. Apparently, he came back from the bathroom just in time to hear Halmeoni out me. Well fuck it, now everybody heard her.

I stand there, thinking about what she said. Show him love? I don’t know if I can show him the kind of love she’s talking about, but I can talk to Lyric and see what his real issues are. Or could it be that my presence here is what’s troubling him? Am I delusional or does Lyric really not like me? Did I come here assuming all this time that he’s as into me as I am him? Or was the entire time we were fucking around just that? A series of hook ups.

Granted, my experience with people I’ve slept with is pretty simple: we fucked and then they left soon after. Not one person ever said no to me. Until Lyric.

I’ve never had a real relationship either, one where I had to put in the work. I’ve seen it on several levels, though. My parents. Danny, Connor and now Callum—my best friends. But love like they have? I can’t say that I’m there with Lyric, but I’m willing to try to see where we are going. Maybe Halmeoni is right and it’s time for me to come clean with Lyric and tell him the truth about how I feel. Then, if Lyric can honestly say he doesn’t have feelings for me, I will have to leave.

“Okay,” I concede. Before I leave the kitchen, though, I look at Fig and say, “Do me a favor. Lyric and I need time alone. See what you can do to get the three of you out of the house for a few hours.”

“I don’t think that’s the wisest decision you’ve made, but I’ll try,” Fig says with a frown.

“He’s in his room,” Ji says and then sits down right as Lyric’s grandmother places a plate of food in front of him.

My stomach growls, but Lyric is more important and I head to his room. His door is locked, so I knock. “Lyric, can we talk?”

“No.” His tone comes out sharp.