“Here’s the address, if you do decide to come by.” He scribbled some words onto a napkin and slid it across the table to her. She tucked it into the pocket of her shorts.
“Excuse me, Luca? Luca Sherwood?” He made the mistake of looking up when addressed and found a microphone being shoved under his chin. “It is you! Gary, get over here!” The reporter beckoned over the cameraman, and Luca wished he’d thought to wear a hat or sunglasses to better hide himself. “And just who might you be?” The reporter was clearly not a Claymoor native; otherwise, she would’ve recognized her immediately as the daughter of Chuck and Elena Meadows.
“Her identity is none of your business.” Luca brought the reporter’s attention back to him, and Lyric shot him a grateful smile. He nodded once at her. “If you’re here to ask me about my dad, I have no comment at this time. If you’re here to ask me about my brother, I also have no comment. My mother’s whereabouts are none of your concern, and I’d appreciate it if you’d give us privacy.”
“You must understand that your father is a high-profile individual, considering his presidential aspirations. The public deserves—”
“Believe me, I’m very much aware.” The reporter opened her mouth to interrupt him, but he stopped her. “I’m not done. This is a formal request for you and your cronies to stop tailing me all the time. I will not hesitate to involve an attorney if I deem it necessary. Good day.”
“Cadence, I need your help.” Lyric had walked home, her brain moving in too many different directions to text anyone or wait for Luca.
She’d charged into her sister’s room and flopped onto her bed, grabbing Flipper and laying the stuffed turtle on her belly. Her sister’s bedroom smelled like her distinct flowery yet earthy perfume. A pile of dirty laundry sat on the floor in the vicinity of the hamper; she just hadn’t gotten around to actually putting it where it belonged. Meanwhile, the sound of wooden-wick candles clicking through their cycles was a common occurrence, as Cadence adored candles.
Cadence finished typing and turned around in the desk chair to face her sister. Lyric explained what had happened between her and Luca (keeping the more intimate details to herself, of course) and led right into his invitation to his grandparents’ house.
“Are you going to be alone together?” Cadence asked.
“I don’t know.”
“You should ask him before you agree to anything. Don’t want either of you to go in with any false hopes or expectations.”
“What do you—” Cadence raised an eyebrow, and Lyric got the implication. “Cadence, Luca would never force me to”—she closed the bedroom door with her foot but still lowered her voice—“to have sex. He’s nothing like Shawn.”
“Pause. Shawn forced you?” Lyric closed her eyes and nodded slowly. “That prolapsed anus, if I ever see him again—” Cadence punched her palm, expression darkening. Despite the seriousness of the conversation, Lyric couldn’t help the laugh that launched out of her.
“Never change, Cades,” Lyric said once she had caught her breath. “So . . . should I go?”
“That’s your call.”
“You’re no help!” she complained, but the smile on her face contradicted her words. “If I do decide to go, would you drive me? I’ll give you money for gas, of course.” Cadence nodded.
“Sure, now can I get back to my homework? I don’t care if you hang out in here, but I have a deadline.” Lyric sighed dramatically, and Cadence laughed, turning back toward her computer.
In the end, Lyric decided to go, but she had to borrow an outfit from Cadence. She stood in front of Cadence’s body-length mirror, brushing and rebrushing her hair over and over until she sighed in defeat and let it do what it wanted, since it was clearly going to do that anyway.
She wore a white T-shirt dress with thin black horizontal stripes accompanied by a jean jacket and a basic over-the-shoulder purse. She’d packed enough belongings for the weekend into her old backpack, and now she was just waiting for Cadence to be done with her latest assignment.
“And . . . submitted!” Cadence proclaimed, shutting her laptop with a thwack. “Let’s go!”
“So, I was thinking.”
“Uh oh,” Lyric teased, and Luca tweaked her nose. They sat together in the Gardener living room, alone in the house except for Daisy, who dozed by the fireplace. Bill and Yvonne had gone to the movies, while Marjorie had gone to visit some of her childhood friends down the road. Rider was out on his first official date with Carrie at a local music festival, so they had the house to themselves.
“Cute. As I was saying, I was thinking about this seasonal carnival that happens every year. It’s no summer bash, but it does have some of the more classic rides. Rider and I went once when we were little, and we haven’t been back since. Point is, I was wondering if you wanted to go check it out tonight? It’s about a thirty-minute drive, nothing too crazy.”
“Sure, that sounds like fun!” Lyric replied, and Luca beamed.
Roughly an hour later, Lyric and Luca found themselves in a church’s expansive parking lot, surrounded by music, conversation, and the screams of delighted patrons on various rides. Luca insisted on paying for their access bracelets, which Lyric only agreed to if she could pay for any snacks they bought. After some good-natured bickering, they settled on taking turns with payments.
“Ooh, we should go on the merry-go-round!” Lyric said excitedly, and Luca smiled at her enthusiasm. “What?” she asked, and he shook his head. She stuck her tongue out at him and yanked on his arm. Luca stumbled but caught himself, and Lyric shot him an amused look.
“I tripped over myself falling for you,” he quipped, and Lyric laughed in spite of herself.
“That was bad, and you know it.”
Once they finally got to the ride, they found it was approximately half-full, with plenty of spots for them to get horses next to each other. Lyric’s horse was steely gray with a blue-and-gold saddle, while Luca’s was gray with black spots and an orange-and-teal saddle. They made conversation as they waited for the operator to start the ride.
As the music started and the poles began to move up and down, Luca thought about the whirlwind summer he’d had so far. I haven’t felt this light in a long time. Probably since Dad got into politics, because I don’t really remember a time before that. He glanced at Lyric and found she had her head thrown back, hands around the pole, laughing, and Luca couldn’t imagine being here with anyone but her.
She must have felt his gaze on her, because she turned to him, eyebrow raised questioningly. Overwhelmed with gratitude, he leaned into the rhythmic movements of the horses so that when his horse was going down and Lyric’s was going up, he could kiss her. She kissed back, at least until the horses moved in the opposite directions, breaking their lip-lock.
Lyric’s cheeks had turned bubblegum pink, and she turned away bashfully. When they got off the ride, Lyric glanced up at him.
“What made you do that?”
“Nothing, really. Just . . . wanted to kiss you,” he responded with a shrug. They came up to a target-based game with overstuffed animals as prizes, and Lyric locked eyes with a dark-brown teddy bear holding a heart with the words “YOU’RE BEARY CUTE” emblazoned across the front. “I didn’t know you were a fan of cheesy puns,” he commented teasingly. “It’s okay, you can admit it,” he added with a grin.
“Shut up,” she told him, and he chuckled. “You know, you never told me your tragic backstory. I would think that I’ve reached level four friendship by now.” She makes a good point.
“If I win you the teddy bear, you can ask me anything.”
“I’m holding you to that.” Lyric told him. He leaned down to peck her lips.
“I’d expect nothing less.”
They got back from the carnival around 10 p.m. and found that the house was dark, except for the porch light, which guided the couple from the Honda to the front door. Lyric shifted her teddy bear from one arm to the other. I didn’t account for how heavy
this thing would be!
“Leftovers in the fridge, if you’re hungry.” Grams had scrawled her note on a napkin and signed it with a heart.
“Your grandmother is adorable, and I’m kind of jealous,” Lyric admitted quietly. “That said, I’m so stuffed with caramel corn that I couldn’t eat another bite even if I wanted to,” she added, and Luca nodded in agreement.
“Still, I’m not really tired yet. Are you?” she continued, and Luca shook his head. He gestured for her to follow him, and they went down to the basement, deciding to watch some bad TV until the adrenaline rush from the carnival faded.
It started innocently enough. Lyric admired Luca’s profile from her spot beside him, her heart warm and gooey with affection.
“I never cashed in my question,” she reminded him, as if he’d forgotten.
“Shoot. I’m an open book.”
“You and I both know that’s not true.” She made a show of tapping on her lips, thinking carefully about what she wanted to know.
“If you were going to die tomorrow, what would be your biggest regret?”
Luca considered the question, staring down at his feet. Lyric herself wondered what her answer would be.
“Not stopping my dad from sending Rider away.” Luca said after a pause. “You may not have noticed it, but I have. He’s more…subdued since he came back. I could have done or said something different. It may not have changed his mind but at least it would’ve been better than letting it happen.”
“It’s not your fault.” Lyric reminded him.
“I know it’s not, but . . . he’s my brother. I should’ve done more.” Guilt shadowed his handsome face, and Lyric put a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“I’m sure you did the best you could in the circumstances.” They were quiet for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts.
“I think I would’ve done more to stop my dad from kicking my mom out.” Lyric said, clenching her fists. “She didn’t deserve to be tossed aside like yesterday’s trash.”
“If you’re anything like your mom, I doubt she deserved anything less than the best.” He brushed his thumb over her cheek reverently, as if she were special. “You are special,” he told her, leaning in for a kiss.
“Did I say that out loud?” She asked hoarsely, and Luca only smirked as she cleared her throat.
Before she knew it, she was straddling him, her knees caging his thighs. She kissed him, combing her hands through his hair. He responded enthusiastically, his hands sliding carefully under her dress as they kissed. He pulled back and looked directly into her eyes.
“Are you okay with this?” he asked. Lyric let out a shuddering breath.
“So far, yes,” she answered.
“You promise to let me know if that changes?” he inquired, and she nodded. He adjusted himself, and his hands grazed upward until his fingers came in contact with cotton that wasn’t her dress. He stopped again, attempting to catch his breath. Lyric’s lips were kiss-swollen, and her eyes had dilated significantly. “Still good?”
“Still good,” she replied, and made her most daring move yet. She clasped her hand around his wrist and brought his fingers between her legs. He couldn’t help the gasp that came out of him. She was so warm, and her underwear was soaked through. He gently pressed his fingers against her, and her forehead hit his shoulder with a dull thump, a quiet moan punctuating his movements.
She rolled her hips against his arousal, and he let out a guttural noise in response. They continued kissing, recalling each other’s sensitive spots from their movie night and discovering new ones in the process. Luca pulled his hands away from Lyric’s heat, and she whined softly. He smiled against her neck. He curled his fingers under the edge of her dress and pulled it up until he found her lacy black bra underneath.
With a roguish sort of grin, he began peppering tiny kisses along the swell of her breasts, pressing his nose against her cleavage. Her galloping heartbeat vibrated against his lips, and he pulled back to glance up at her.
“Still good?” he asked her, and she pulled her dress off fully, leaving her in just her bra and underwear on his lap.
“Still good,” she replied, kissing him once again. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” she told him matter-of-factly, and he chuckled, raising his arms so that she could take off his T-shirt. As he lowered them, he brushed his thumb over her clavicle, pecking the bottommost part of her neck with light kisses. When she leaned back, her mouth went dry at the sight of his bare chest, and she caressed his pecs and upper abdomen, noting that he grunted with pleasure when her palms briefly caught on his nipples. Maybe dry skin does have its advantages. That was the last thing she recalled thinking for the rest of the night, at least until Lyric’s phone rang.
“H-hello?” She squinted to see the time in the dark. 3:03 a.m. stared back at her. She and Luca had fallen asleep cuddling together, a fleece blanket covering them for modesty’s sake. She took a moment to marvel at how easily their bodies fit together. “Ry? What’s going on?”
“I just crossed the bridge into Jersey. You’d better be ready when I get there. We need to talk.”
“About what?” she asked, spiderwebs still clinging to her mind. She shook herself and, in doing so, jostled Luca. His hold on her waist tightened briefly, and he yawned like a lion in its den. He kissed her shoulder, and she waved him away distractedly.
“Everything.”
“Okay then, Captain Vague. How did you even get the address?”
“I asked Cadence,” he answered, and Lyric rubbed her chest at the slight stab of betrayal that poked her heart. “I won’t leak it to the press or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about. We need to keep this in the family.”
“And what is ‘this’ exactly?”
“I’ll tell you when I get there.” The phone cut off, and Lyric stared at it for a few moments. I don’t believe it. He actually hung up on me.
“What’s up?” Luca asked, voice husky with sleepiness.
“Rhythm is three-fourths of the way here to pick me up. He says we, being he and I, need to talk about something. I have no idea what he’s talking about or why it couldn’t wait until tomorrow, but I need to get dressed and be ready when he pulls up.”
“What the hell could he need to talk to you about at three in the morning?”
“That’s what I’m wondering, but I also don’t want him to break down the front door of your grandparents’ home just because he feels justified.”
“Yeah, that wouldn’t be good. Okay.” He yawned once again, and Lyric climbed out of his embrace, searching the floor for her dress and jacket. “Y’ know, you have a very pinchable butt. It’s only because I’m a gentleman that I haven’t touched it yet,” he informed her glibly.
“And they say chivalry is dead,” she replied dryly. He chuckled, clearing his throat and stretching. Don’t get distracted, she warned herself. “Ah ha!” She picked up her wrinkled T-shirt dress and slipped it over her head. “Um . . . I’ll call you?”
“I’m coming with you,” he said, and she narrowed her eyes at him, miffed that he’d forced her to bask in the awkwardness for a few too many seconds. “I wouldn’t be a good boyfriend if I didn’t walk you out, would I?” Lyric had no response to that, so she busied herself getting her few belongings together and darting up the stairs to the foyer, belatedly attempting to be quiet so that she wouldn’t wake the rest of the house.
Luca came up behind her and pulled her against his chest, which she now realized he’d covered with a shirt. Pity, she thought, even as he pushed her hair to the opposite side and kissed the juncture of her neck and shoulder, paying special attention to it and even scraping his teeth over it ever so slightly. Her breath caught in her throat, and he smirked. Familiarly bright headlights passed in front of the bay window, and Lyric reluctantly extricated herself from Luca’s arms to face her brother.
“D’ you have fun, sis?” Rhythm asked as soon as she opened the door, and she swallowed s
ome of her spit, unsure how to decipher the trepidation that skittered over her skin.
“Yeah, we went to a carnival and gorged ourselves on junk food.” She tried for casual, but it fell flat when her eyes landed on the time: 3:33 a.m. Where the hell does he get off? she thought, shifting from confused to annoyed. “Would’ve been better if it hadn’t been interrupted.” Once they were out of the neighborhood, he accelerated as fast as the speed limit would allow, at least until they reached the toll bridge that would take them back into Pennsylvania. “Are you going to tell me what the hell’s going on, or am I going to have to guess?” Rhythm muttered something, but Lyric didn’t bother asking for clarification. She probably wasn’t meant to hear it anyway.
Chapter Twelve
“I like to think that all things considered, I’ve been pretty patient,” he began as they drove past the “Welcome to Pennsylvania” sign indicating it to be the state of independence. “I get why we collectively agreed not to do music anymore; we lost our spark when Mom was diagnosed. After that, we got distracted by school, extracurriculars, and all those other life things. Cadence decided to pursue nursing, and I didn’t stop her because the world needs nurses. That said, you know the one thing that the world doesn’t need? Pottery specialists, or whatever you call yourself.”
Lyric opened her mouth to protest, but Rhythm spoke over her. “I figured that, like all of your other phases, you’d be interested in it for a while and then you’d give up when it got too hard and that you’d come back to music. That was what I was counting on, but that didn’t happen. You started working at the studio, and suddenly you were never home. Again, I let that slide because nothing was going on that needed your attention. That is, until Mom’s cancer went back into remission and she moved out—”
Find You There Page 12
