AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Did Dom get the bits of bone out?” I inquire, shifting my gaze to the clock on the bedside table. It’s almost eleven in the morning, and I can’t help but feel like this day is turning out to be a strange one. I should be at work, serving my regulars. Instead, I’m here, running on only a few hours of sleep.
“The asshole has no chill,” Matty says with a shudder. “He didn’t even take me to an OR. He brought me here. Do you know they have a whole ass pharmacy and doctor’s office downstairs?”
“Yeah,” I reply, fiddling with his fingers. I saw the double doors and how Lyric disappeared through them last night, all bloody and knocking on death’s door, but I doubt that’s what he wants to know right now. I’m at a loss for words, uncertain how to express my feelings.
Part of me is seething with anger. Furious even. Matty went off alone and embarked on a dangerous quest without considering the consequences. He put himself at risk, but worse, he also put Lyric in danger. I’m grappling with mixed emotions and don’t know how to process them.
“You’re mad at me,” he drawls, his words heavy with guilt.
I shrug a shoulder, attempting to formulate my thoughts. Matty had his reasons for his actions, but I can’t help but think that all of this could have been avoided if there had been better communication—not just on his part, but also on Lyric’s.
I find myself merely gazing at the iceberg of their complicated lives, torn between understanding their choices and feeling frustrated about the consequences. “A little,” I admit, my voice laced with the complexity of my emotions.
Matty grunts in discomfort as he attempts to shift, only to fall back onto the bed.
“Stop moving,” I insist, gently pushing his shoulder. Our faces are so close that I can smell the antiseptic on his skin. “Don’t do that again.”
He stares at me, his eyes full of confusion. “Why? Why are you different now? You were so clear last time that you didn’t want to help me.”
I lean forward, wanting him to understand. “It’s not like that. I care, Matty.”
He doesn’t move, still searching my face for the truth.
The door swings open, and I instinctively jump away from Matty as if caught doing something forbidden. Desmond enters the room, his eyes scanning everything before settling on me. He’s dressed in his signature suit, a mask of indifference adorning his face as he enters.
As he moves, he reveals Lyric standing on a pair of crutches. His wet hair and lazy smile suggest an air of amusement. Low-slung sweatpants hang on his hips, and a bandage stretches across his bare shoulder. One foot is in a boot, leaving me unsure if it’s broken or sprained.
He’s okay.My heart leaps in my chest. The relief that spills across my skin is more than physical. It presses down on me emotionally, as if I’ve been holding my breath underwater too long. I can finally release the oxygen from my lungs into the air.
My second thought is how attractive he looks. With only his gray sweatpants on and an arrogant smirk on his face, he’s beyond gorgeous. I gulp, my eyes glued to how his muscles shift with each movement he makes. I remember how they felt against my palms, and how his body melded against mine as he thrust into me.
Clearing my throat, I turn to Matty, who’s gazing at his brother with a longing so profound, it nearly shatters me.
“Good, you’re awake,” Desmond remarks, waiting for Lyric to move before slamming the door shut and locking it. He flicks a switch on the wall, and a slight buzz reverberates through the room, leaving me curious about its purpose.
Lyric limps over to the chair I slept in and sinks into the cushions. “Sit with me, dove,” he invites, patting the seat. It’s not just the invitation that catches my attention, but the rather noticeable outline pressed against his gray sweatpants. The sight leaves me momentarily flustered, and I have to look away.
“Lyric,” Desmond snarls sharply. “Focus.” He stands at the foot of the bed, his eyes intently fixed on Matty. His anger is palpable, masked only by a slight twitch in his eye.
Matty, however, remains fixated on his brother, not once breaking their connection. This reunion has been a long time coming—nineteen years, to be precise. It’s a wait that’s hard to fathom, making me think of my little brother.
“I’ll leave you guys to it. I should check on Milo,” I suggest, rising from the bed and allowing Matty’s hand to slip through my fingertips.
“Sit,” Desmond commands, his tone stern and imposing, causing my pulse to race and me to slip back down to the bed. He takes a deliberate breath, focusing on me. “My parents are treating him to their own ice cream social. I assure you he is okay.” His words are gentle, an attempt to reassure me, but the feeling of intruding on their family business lingers.
“Stay with us, dove,” Lyric urges, extending his hand toward me.
With an exaggerated eye roll, I slide off the bed again and take his hand, not leaving him hanging. He swiftly pulls me toward him, and in the process, I have a few precious seconds to recover my balance, slapping a hand on the chair instead of him.
He looks amused, and I feel a mix of horror and embarrassment as he settles me on his lap, burying his head in my neck. My eyes find Matty’s, catching the longing in his gaze amidst the amusement.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Desmond finally snaps, his grip tight on the bed’s edge.
Matty grits his teeth. He knows who’s in charge here, a shift in the dynamics of their relationship.
He knows where Lyric is, he knows who is in charge, and he knows where they live.
Matty could bring this entire family down with one phone call.
