Page 85 of Chasing Lyric
My feet move faster than I thought possible.
“Where the fuck are you going?” Dax calls out as I take off running.
I don’t answer as I spin around and make for my car.
I need my girl.
I justneed my girl.
***
The entire drive to Lyric’s house, my head is a mess of confusion.
Why the fuck was Dad looking for me? Why did he show up there? Why am I such a monumental fuck up? How the hell am I going to fix this?
Fixus?
Upon arriving at Lyric’s house, heaviness weighs on me. I know I’m in the wrong. I know I’ve kept things from her. I’ve been living this double life, this alter ego. As Dax said, I’ve basically been catfishing Lyric this entire time, just doing it in person, which makes it so much worse. I don’t even know how to begin making this up to her.
Where do I start to make this right?
Feeling like I’m the biggest asshole in the world, I get out of my car. I told her I love her. And on the same night, I feel like I’ve lost her. I just hope like all hell whatever I do right now equates to me getting her back.
Dragging my feet to her front door, I see straight through her front bay window. The sight nearly knocks me back on my ass. Lyric’s curled up on her gray sofa, the one we always cuddle onwith Polly sitting on the sofa arm while we binge on Netflix. But that’s not what breaks me. It’s because her head is in Rory’s lap. The tears streaming down Lyric’s face make it hard for me to breathe.
I did that to her.
My lies.
My deception.
It makes me hesitate.
Should I go to her?
She’s a mess.
I don’t want to do anything to make her worse. But I don’t want to be that guy who lets this go either.She’s worth fighting for.
I need to sort this shit out.
Drawing in a deep breath, I sturdy my shoulders and move to the front door, gently knocking with my heart beating faster than it did the first time I came here. My stomach rolls, feeling unsettled, as I hear someone walking toward the door. I tense, bracing myself to see Lyric’s broken face. I know it’s going to kill me watching her so hurt, but I ready myself to fight for her.
To fight forus.
The door swings open fast. I brace, heart in my throat, expecting anything.
But it’s not Lyric.
It’s Rory.
Her eyes land on me and immediately go wide, full saucer-mode. Then they narrow, razor sharp. She doesn’t say a word at first. Just moves. She ducks low, swift and purposeful, slipping through the door like a soldier breaching enemy lines. The movement’s almost too smooth, too fast, to be funny—because it isn’t funnyat all. She’s protecting her girl. Shielding Lyric from me. Her hand stays on the doorknob as she steps out and pulls itmostly closed behind her, locking me out before I can even think about stepping inside.
I’ve never seen Rory like this.
She plants herself between me and the door, shoulders squared, one foot forward like she’s bracing for a brawl. Her whole body vibrates with fury. Her jaw ticks. Her eyes burn.
“What in the name of all things holy, do you thinkyouare doing here?” she bites out, her voice a low, lethal whisper, like she’s holding back a scream with every ounce of control she has left.
