Page 101 of Chasing Lyric
He doesn’t flinch, just smiles like the smug bastard he is. “I knew you’d pull some solo recon bullshit.”
“You followed me?”
“You ditched me,” he whispers with mock offense. “That hurt, man.”
I scowl, still trying to calm the racing pulse pounding in my ears. “You don’t sneak up on a guy mid-stalk!”
“I prefer to call it field intel collection,” he whispers, brushing off his knees like this is some training exercise. “Besides, I brought snacks. You want a beer?”
“Beer is not a snack. You’re lucky I didn’t swing on instinct.”
“You did squeal, though,” he whispers with a snort. “High-pitched. Delicate. Like a man who’s just seen a spider.”
“I didnotsqueal.”
Dax chuckles. “You did. It echoed.”
We both duck lower as Lyric approaches the window again, brow furrowed like she’s trying to make sense of the sound. I swear she squints directly at the bush we’re in, and my muscles lock up on instinct as we both press up against the side of her house beneath the window.
This time, a spider crawls right beside my head, making me grimace.
“Don’t… move,” Dax murmurs. “If we stay still, she can’t see us. Like velociraptors.”
I groan, dragging a hand down my face. “That’s the T. rex, you idiot. God, I hate you.”
Dax slaps my chest. “But you love that I showed up.”
I don’t answer, shooting him a glare before shifting to peek through the leaves again. Inside, Lyric has settled back on the couch, still holding the card.
Still reading.
Dax nudges me with his elbow. “Look at that. She hasn’t thrown it out yet!”
“No,” I mutter, voice low and gravelly. “But if she does, I swear I’m climbing in through that window.”
“She’ll tase you, man.”
A slow grin crosses my face as I brush a stray leaf from my suit jacket. “Worth it.”
He smirks, shaking his head. “You’re lucky I’m here to keep you from committing a felony on top of your other felony.”
“We’re already in a bush outside her house, Dax. The line’s not blurry. It’s completely gone.”
“We’re not here to stalk,” he says in a low voice. “We’re here to witness. Huge difference.”
I drag a hand down my face, scrubbing hard at the tension sitting behind my eyes. My muscles are coiled so tight my knees are locked, thighs burning from holding this damn crouch, but I don’t move. My jaw flexes, trying to bite back the sick mix of nerves and anticipation twisting through my gut. I want to laugh at the absurdity, punch a wall in frustration, and maybe throw up, all at once.
Still, a breath escapes me, low and tight, and the corner of my mouth lifts, barely. It’s stupid, but Dax is here. As much as I want to throttle him half the time, the fact that he showed up settles something in me.
At least I’m not in this shitshow alone.
He leans in to peek again through the leaves, and I follow, my entire body tensing like I’m about to charge into battle. Lyric’s sitting on the couch, holding the card in her lap, her fingers trembling. She wipes at her eyes, sniffling quietly, lips moving as she reads the words I poured my soul into.
For a second, just one fleeting heartbeat, I let myself hope.
My chest tightens when she sits a little straighter, her brows drawing together. But instead of clutching the card to her chest like in every rom-com fantasy I’ve never admitted to watching, she tears it, with the brutal ferocity of a lioness. Shredding it like it insulted her mother. Her expression is pure fire, her eyes sharp and seething as if she’s ready to burn me alive.
I don’t move.
